#And some shirts but like those are made in the US mostly

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

Requests are up, right?

If so, hiii! Could I please request a Viktor x wealthy nobleman reader angst set in s1 and during the timeskip? Maybe to do with reader’s parents are forcing him into an arranged marriage so he can’t be with Viktor but they’re still trying to make it work??? Don’t feel obligated to write this it’s up to you n e wayz have a good day thankss ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

viktor x male! wealthy nobleman! reader

angst, (implied) smut, some dialogue. an experimental little thing, really.

word count: 1,7k

author’s note: this request. it’s so scrumptious. so beautiful. so delightful. thank you for asking me to write this, i don’t think i’ve met your expectation but i certainty tried to throw in some extra angst. enjoy, my darling anon!

—

He wakes up in a sweat-slick frenzy, salt dribbling down his neck when he reaches to feel it, scrapping matted hair off pale skin. 

The sheets beneath him are crumpled into intractable waves. The detritus of his restless sleep and whatever erotic mess he’d made out of you a few hours ago. But when his arm crawls to your side of the bed, smoothing over the rippled splendour, his fist clenches around nothing. 

Heavy lids flutter with effort when his ochre eyes roam beneath the chestnut strands, fruitlessly roaming around the pompous room. All claret patches of luxurious furniture curdling into countless voids in the dim light. There’s something so inherently you and not-you-in-the-slightest all the same clashing inside this chamber. Gaudy, and tasteless, and redundantly sandalwood. Duck-feather pillows and thick mattresses. Exuberant safety. 

Viktor rests his eyes, propping his head up on a trembling hand. He could never get used to this. He could never get used to you. Your reputee. Your respectable decorum. The things he’s supposed to enjoy—or, rather, finally try getting used to.

And yet, they’re still so foreign and confusing. He swears there’s a myriad snarky insults written all over this gigantic house—on every ridiculous vintage lamp and on the mortifying softness of your carpets—hell, even the curtains sway at him sibilantly, somehow. 

But the mirrors are certainly the culprit. He always avoids those evil, gilded things at all cost. Not because he despises the reflection. It’s mostly the way he clashes with the grandeur that makes him avert his eyes. Away from the jaunty reminder that he doesn’t belong here. 

He emerges from the bed, blood rushing out of his head and thumping harder when he slips one leg off the edge, gaining precarious hold of his cane through drowsy confusion. Hides the slopes of pointy shoulders beneath his flimsy shirt but leaves it unbuttoned. Counts puce hickeys strewn across his chest and cockily runs his heavy tongue over his molars when the number exceeds ten. 

He doesn’t bother with the belt, either. He trudges out of the room with pants hanging low on hips, eerie gallus curdling into his walk when he passes Agnes, your maid, trading shrewd gazes with her judging eyes. She knows. And he knows she knows. You’re not exactly secretive with whatever blissed debaucheries happen in one of those spacious bedrooms the second your venerable parents leave the City of Progress.

Too bad he doesn’t care enough to keep you out of trouble. It’s more of an eye-for-an-eye dilemma. You’re still so skittish to address him as your partner during those numerous fancy galas. Janna, he can’t even make it to the guest list. It’s like you completely lack the balls (and the appendage is definitely there—Viktor did check, after all). But it’s okay. Viktor can be the ballsy one. He can rub it in their faces while you falter. And tonight the maid’s face falls victim to his stunt. 

He asks if she’d seen you, sickeningly glibly. Finds the audacity to address you by your first name, his head cheekily tilted to the side. She inhales through her nose, canines nervously digging into her cheek.

“He’s in the drawing room,” she mumbles, looking away. “Playing the piano.” 

Viktor hums. Of course you are. He thanks her with a snide nod and takes his leave. Thinks of just how oblivious rich people are to their antics: it’s ridiculous that the sounds of a literal keyboard instrument fail to reach every room in this enormous mansion. It makes him really ponder the size. So much space for privilege, and yet none for love. Boastful quarters built on ingenuity. He bites his tongue. 

The door makes a heavy screech when he comes in, panting hard. Finds you at the edge of your padded seat, all tense shoulders and rigid breaths, cheeks blooming a frustrated, sweaty pink as your fingers torture the keyboard, tapping out a  bluesy, messy tune. He leans on the doorframe, forehead landing against the lacquered mahogany with a light thump. Notices the expensive ruffled shirt he’d torn at earlier, lingering on the patch of skin where it swings off your clavicle. Smiles, when your melody gains a sharper edge, pitiful chords clashing into something resembling a dismissed plea—either to gods or to conniving ancestry, but that’s open to interpretation. Could be both, really.

It’s not often that he gets to admire his boy like this—tumultuous and rigid, forehead contorted with veins in your angry awe. And Viktor doesn’t want to startle you. He sneaks behind your back and hovers above your shoulders, his breath a sly tickle over your fevered temple. But his presence grounds you. Your limbs tumble, going limp as they slide off the trembling black-whites. The piano strings still vibrate when you turn to kiss him, wet lips meeting chapped. 

He glides under your tongue and hums something indistinct, but you swallow his words faster. Franticly, you cling to him, desperate fingers clasping around bony thighs, and down he goes, pulled into your lap, bubbly giggle rasping against your mouth when he straddles you. Tastes of boldness, sweat and something delirious. Runs his hands up and down your back while his own arches into the keyboard and hits one cacophonic chord. It has you leaping out of your seat, hairs on ends like a skittish cat. Viktor looks at you, mouth unraveling into a boyish smile.

“Am I interrupting?” He finds his voice, still groggy from the aftermath of his slumber. 

You offer him an apologetic wink of both tired eyes. “You startled me.”

“Ah, I see. I’m sorry. You should have kept going. I quite liked that improvisation.” You both laugh. 

He rakes his hand up your neck, fingers circling the bulge of your voice, drawing a gulp. Your face looks strained, brows knitted together in something bizarrely tic-like—and it doesn’t go away even when his lips line up with that sensitive slope, licking, kissing, biting their way down to clavicles. 

“What’s troubling you?” He whispers, leaning back. Stares at the glistening stripe of his saliva, swallowing hard, matching you when you look away, gnawing at your bottom lip. Both mouths taste iron, chewing the tension. 

“Nothing?” You try to lie, but your delivery is just a tad too quizzical. Like you’re asking him to narrow it down for you, to find the answer on your behalf. Too bad he would never do you such favors. 

He fists his hand into your hair, tugging hard. Makes you look back into his mighty eyes—oh that lovely, oxidised copper—and orders you to speak from the altitude of his posture. You shudder, seeking mercy. He doesn’t have any to give. Not tonight.

“There’s clearly something,” Viktor insists, letting go of your hair. Your scalp tingles with a delicious scorch. “I don’t appreciate the covertness. Especially when you’re hardly able to keep it up. You never play quite as… vehemently unless you’re upset.” 

“It’s Agnes,” you crack, looking at the doorway. The maid is not there, but the weight of her gaze haunts you everytime you sneak Viktor inside, no matter if she’s not there to witness you cling to him. “She, er— My parents are threatening to fire her. She told me she can no longer keep our… secret. ” 

“So be it.” Viktor shrugs. “Let her talk. She needs her income. It’s not like they’re not aware of my existence anyway.”

You scoff. “Yes, but it’s not like they’re particularly fond of you, either.”

“Since when does that distress you?” He snaps right back at you, loving hands instantly withdrawn from their hold of you, clenching hard. “You can’t possibly take their input into consideration, can you?” 

For a moment, you simply stare at each other, eyes shooting angry stardust. You can feel a dry, nervous cough tickle at your throat, blood buzzing in your temples and pressing hard. You have to tell him. Preferably, now. 

Because Viktor is oblivious to the ultimatum you were given all those months ago. Here he is, looking down at you full of puzzled devotion, smug, and sweet and so utterly soft. Unaware of the fact that you are to be married to another man. To someone meticulously picked out by your parents, all tedious meetings and insipid speeches about how you should stick to someone of your own kind, ears bleeding to the sounds of all the demeaning crap about witnessing their noble boy’s downfall. 

But the worst part is: you still haven’t grown a fraction of a backbone. You bend to their will and adhere to self-pity, painfully wary of how to break this circle. It’s just that you let your fear prevail. 

And it’s a thing to be ashamed of. Because how dare you hold him close, all limbs intertwined and eyes locking with such yearning—all the while you fail to muster the courage to offer him elopement. Hell, to even tell him the truth. You don’t deserve him—not now, not ever. Cowards are not to form bonds with those who never ask for permission. 

And so you wet your lips, anxiously staring up. Your hands bonelessly dangle at your sides, terrified of reaching for him again. You’re going to tell him, it’s right there, at the tip of your tongue, threatening to leap out your mouth like an insult one doesn’t mean. You just have to do it like he does: be bold, be brave, start talking—

“Of course, Viktor,” you mumble instead, feeling shame creep up your throat. What a spineless creature. “I don��t care what they think. I’m sorry.”

His eyes flicker with that familiar, joyful spark of his. Fawning at you so gently that your heart almost bleeds through the fancy shirt, almost crumbling right then and there when he scoots closer again, hot breath fondling your face. You’re never going to tell him, are you? 

Something inside you dies when he kisses your cheek, lean body tensing atop you as he commences an embrace you return with guilty reluctance, hiding ugly tears in the mess of his hair. 

“Good,” Viktor whispers, holding you through your shudder. “Now, could you play me that nocturne I like, please?”

You grip the piano hard enough to leave nail marks on the gorgeous instrument.

[revivify-inn]

Planning some pottery apron designs that can be embroidered and they'll be adorable!! I can use a POD service (like RedBubble) to have the orders fulfilled

BUT

Have found only ONE (SO FAR) with what looks like good quality thick fabric AND pockets. Pockets are a must.

Problem is it takes 11 to 14 days to ship to the US after its embroidered with my design.

I don't think people will be okay with buying something that takes 11 to 14 days to be made and then another however many days to ship...

I have all these ideas for such cute things but I'm so unsure

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

One Piece Fighting Game AU

this au is inpired by the song Heart Attack by Chuu

hope you enjoy the designs i created most of them in a 2 hr long manic episode of just nonstop designing.

there is more to come with this au im super excited to show you guys :)

some lore ive cooked up for it and design explainations:

preface: sorry this is so much writing and im not going to grammar check it cuz aint no body got time for that.

The world of this au is like pokemon with different gyms you can fight through and beat, there's a big league of pro fighters, and there are schools for teaching you to be a better fighter.

The school our main cast goes to is called the Doki-Doki Battle Academy and it's principle is currently Crocodile. It's previous principle was Nefertari Cobra, but maybe something nefarious happened to give crocodile the spot who knowwsssss~

Doki-Doki Battle Academy (DDBA) hosts many tournaments in their school stadium throughout the school year. The tournies act as tests for the students who are taking that field of study. There are other fields the school offers though, such as weapon crafting, medical staffing, and managing. Though, if the students in those fields with so learn fighting on the side that is also accepted.

In the Pro Fighting world, there are typically pro-league teams such as the Red Hairs and The Beasts. These teams have different levels to it such as Little Leagues (for younger fighters), Minor leagues (for adults on a regional level), and Major leagues (for profighting at a national level). You can also go solo though, much like Mihawk does.

The power system in this AU is pretty simple, different color of auras do different things, but the complexities happen when you start using the different auras in tandem. I might explain it more in depth in a different post, but i dont really know what to explain about it. mostly because i dont know everything about it, myself, yet lol

-----design talk now yippeeee-----

Luffy: i tried to make him very simple protagonist vibes, play into the genre a bit. i incorporated hearts into his design in his hat, his shirt, his arm bands, and his pants poofies. His hat was given him as a sign of love, his shirt is from his school and he loves his school, his arm bands are on his arms and he uses his arms to show his love by fighting or by hugging, and his pants arent scuffed or anything so the heart puffs on his knees protects them from getting damaged (his love protects him)

Sabo: Tried to give him a more mysterious vibe with that peacoat and hat that shadows his face. I incorporated hearts into his design in his eyepatch, his vest buttons, and his boots. His heart eyepatch covers up that nasty scar, so he's distracting himself from his past pain by focusing on his love, the buttons on his vest/hearts on his boots are more or less hidden most of the time so he tends to hide his love but when he lets his guard down (when the boot is rolled down) you can see his love plainly.

Ace: Now, i dont know if Ace will die in this au or not, but in canon, he expresses his love through his torso area, i.e. tattoo on his arm and back and also that Certain Moment, so thats where i put a big ol' heart on him. His pants are also ripped in a shape of a heart but its kinda hard to see, but its meant to symbolize how the damage he takes is his love.

Nami: All the orange in her design is in heart shapes or the shapes of tangerines, thats where her love is. I also made nami's staff a curtain rod. She uses the rod to produce wind when she summons water and then manipulates it to heat it up or cool it down. i tried to add little details like that and the bandages on her torso to show that although she's outwardly clean, she's still scrappy. Nami is in the managerial pathway at the DDBA.

Zoro: I didnt make him quite as bright or vibrant as the others, i kinda just tried to make him Just A Guy. Except for his Swords. His Swords are special, so theyre bright and saturated. I roughed him up, a bit, not too much. i made his varsity jacket be ripped open so it looks like the heart on the front was broken because zoro is very broken hearted.

Sanji: I made him look like a wannabe princely character. Very cheesy, gaudy charm. I made the hearts of his design (on his boots) look like they're sewn up. So at some point his heart was broken, but he's healing them by stitching them up with love.

Robin: The hearts in her design are hard to make out because she is hiding her love. The pink of her lacey undershirt is where the heart is and its being protected by a dark over layer. The many belts in her design, however, are meant to look like shatters in that protective layer. This is meant to represent how even though she's strongly protecting herself, that strength is still weak without any outside help. Robin uses her multiplication abilities to simply multiply the shape of her arms like how she does in canon.

Chopper: His hearts are on his viles and his hat, love was given to him when he was given that hat, and he shows his love by making his healing potions. On another note though, chopper is a Transtormationalist, which is basically the zoan fruits of this world. His model is the Reindeer and his body has naturally started morphing into that form, too. Chopper is in the medical program at the DDBA

Usopp: Usopp's hearts on his pants patches signifies the new loves he’s accepted into his once lonely life. He fights with his sling shot and his ammo is seeds he's found savaging through forests or just growing himself. the white and grey auras he commands lessen the air resistance of his projectiles and makes them go a lot faster, and once they hit their target, he makes the plant grow super quickly, like how it does in canon post-ts.

Franky: Franky's hearts are everywhere and they're bright. he doesn't hide his love and he's built love for himself to wear on his person. Franky is one of the weapon masters at the school and he's a SUUUUPER cool teacher.

Brook: the hearts in his design are his Afro and his bag. I think i read somewhere that brook has kept his Afro so that Laboon can recognize him when he sees him again and that is just so loving to me so his Afro is in the shape of a heart. His bag is also in the shape of a heart, but the bag is being weighed down by whatever he's carrying inside of it, signifying the burden of the love he carries.

Jinbei: Jinbei is a Transtormationalist, Model: Whale Shark. the heart in his design is the tattoo on his chest for his old team. He's the driver of Luffy's bus and if you do enough dialogue options with him instead of skipping the bus cut-scenes, you get the option to battle Jinbei. If you do, he takes off his jacket revealing the pro-league he used to be in and then he decimates you. it is impossible to win the battle.

Koala: the colors i used for her are peachy colors, signifying what a peach she is :)))) her goggles and the buttons on her suspenders are the hearts on her design, signifying how her love is looking out for others and how love keeps herself up.

Vivi: Her hair is a big ol heart but its upsidedow, signifying how the love she feels often makes her look at things incorrectly. Also the rips in her tights are hearts, much like ace's are. the damage she takes is how she shows her love.

Crocodile: his hook is a heart, he loves fighting. i like the idea that when a student needs a text book and and asks him for one, he gives it to them by spearing a hole through one he has in his coat and handing it to the student who has to just live with a textbook with a big-ass hole through it.

Perona: the hearts in her design are on her sleeves and on her hat. The joke about the sleeves is that she wears her heart on her sleeves. but the hat, its meant to look like more or less a cage for the heart, her love is what traps her.

Mihawk: his hearts are on his weapons, he fucking loves fighting.

Shanks: The hearts in his design are only on his torso area, the locket around his neck and the deep unbuttoned shirt makes it look like there's a heart in the negative space, and the heart patch on his jacket, the loss of his arm and the lack of something there is symbolic for the love he has given.

imma be real, i didnt put that much thought in the heart positionings for yamato buggy or law. I kinda was swept up in Hot Man, Pathetic Man, and Hot Pathetic Man.

Uta: she's based off of Cupid, so she doesn't have any hearts really in her design but her whole persona is based off of a symbol of love and how it can turn malicious.

also in general, the shines on people's hair are meant to look like a heart-rate monitor's peaks and troughs. And the shading i did just by drawing all the shading then desaturating that area

WOWEE that's a lot of designing wtf was i on when i did all this.

if you got to the end, thank you so very much for reading! i hope you enjoyed my ramblings :)

again, there is more to come with this AU so Stay Tuned, Folks!!!!!!!!!!

[callieisto]

This is Kali’s fault. @killakalx

Minors Dni- includes. Slight dirty talk? But? Loving?, marking, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, cumming inside, kind of sappy pillow talk, dom!Clark, fem!reader

Clark Kent is strong enough to pick you up and use you like a fleshlight. He doesn’t, usually, because that’s mean and he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you or anything.

But there are rare occasions, when he’s had enough of being Superman, when he’s had enough of being Clark Kent, where he lets himself tap into those desires to just… use you.

He’s got you pinned to the wall of his apartment, feet not even scraping the floor, his tongue so deep in your mouth you swear he’s trying to make you choke on it. (Doesn’t help that his is a little bit longer than a normal person’s, and his sharp little fangs don’t help much either.) He’s holding you up by your waist, his grip bruising, and when he pulls back he’s out of breath.

“I need you,” he whispers, and it’s the last semblance of a boyfriend who’s gentle or careful with you that you’re going to get for a few hours. His glasses are askew, his hair is ruffled, his shirt has already been halfway unbuttoned thanks to your wandering hands. “Please.”

When you say “okay”, he’s on you faster than he’s ever been on anything in his life. Ripping your shirt down the middle- your bra, too- he’s setting you down on unsteady feet before basically attacking your chest, biting and sucking his way down your body, coming to where the hem of your pants hugs your waist before he stops. He looks up at you, blue eyes nearly eclipsed by his pupil, blown wide with arousal.

They flash gold when they catch the light.

Clark looks like a proper predator, and suddenly you understand why villains get all prickly when they’re dealing with Superman. He’s scary. Your sweet, loving boyfriend, who has never once even raised his voice at you, is downright terrifying.

“I can smell you,” he chokes out, and his voice is dark. Your pants are gone before you can even register his movements, and your underwear are also the unfortunate victims of his super strength. “Can hear your heart beating,” he breathes, a little laugh escaping him as he presses his mouth against the soft skin of your stomach. “Your blood, I can… fuck…”

Aaaaand you’re suddenly on the couch, Clark is between your legs, and he’s eating you out like he’s never had a meal before in his life. Usually he’s careful, controlled, wants to make you feel good before anything else. But right now, he’s just hungry, and he’s getting more enjoyment out of your desperate attempts to squirm away from him and the noises you’re making more than anything else. He makes you cum three times while he mutters about how you’re ‘such a good girl’, and then he’s cradling your face in his hands, cooing at you while you come back down to earth.

“You prepped? Y’ready to take my dick, sweet girl?”

(His southern accent is thick; he looks and sounds drunk on you, chin covered in your slick, big blue eyes meeting yours.)

He doesn’t let you answer, mostly because he knows you can’t. And he knows his dick is huge- he goes slow, usually, but tonight he just needs to feel you cum on his cock otherwise he’ll go insane, he’ll go crazy.

Clark feels properly awful about how you’re already squirming and whining when he presses his tip at your entrance. He wants to do something, but then the tip slips in, and he’s gone.

He pushes in the rest of the way with a wet shlck, curling his body over yours so he can see the way your pussy looks speared on his cock. “Fuck.” He rumbles. “Look at you, taking me so deep. God, it’s like you’re made for it, made for me…”

He thrusts into you, keeping his forearm above your head to brace himself- when your hands curl around his bicep and squeeze all desperate, he blacks out for a second. When he wakes up again, you’re squealing, and he’s rubbing circles against your clit with his free hand, and you have some bite marks that are stark against your skin.

“Cum for me.” He begs, and his voice doesn’t even sound like his own. “Cum for me right now, I know y’can do it, I want you t’do it, you’ve been so good f’me, so fucking good, the best, taking me so deep and hard like it’s what you were made for- please give it t’me, darlin, please.”

When you sob all high and pretty and spasm on his dick, he feels like he’s seeing stars. Actually, it’s better than stars, because he’s just looking at you, at the tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, at the red marks you leave when you dig your nails into his skin. Clark sees everything.

And then he cums, pushing deep inside, a choked gasp of your name dropping from his lips. He screws his eyes shut, his nose wrinkling in that cute way it does when he’s thinking. He moans low and just for you.

… when he comes back to his senses, you’re softly squirming under his weight, grumbling about how heavy he is. He pulls back- and out- watching with amazement as a bit of cum starts to trickle out. He barely resists the urge to follow it with his tongue, because he thinks you’d kill him.

“My sweet girl.” He croons instead, pressing soft kisses to your face. “So good, so pretty. Took me so amazingly.”

“You almost killed me,” you complain, pouting at him. “Women on this planet are not built to handle seven orgasms, Clark.”

He tilts his head. “I only remember four.” He says, raising an eyebrow. “… but I can make it seven, if you want. Really test the limits of the human body, y’know-”

You hit him in the side of the head with a throw pillow. He relents.

[reignpage]

Basketball Captain!Toji

Indiana Pacers: faking left

Contents: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, bts of a modern au!smau, cursing, mixed content (f/a/s), time reader and Toji spent as roommates, not proofread

Dear Diary,

Who would have thought that you’d be welcoming Toji into your apartment as a roommate for an indefinite amount of time?

It was weird to watch him eye your place and throw his duffel bag onto the couch before plopping himself down with a grunt. He’d been kicked out and you were both to blame. Having just gone on a run, he was surprised, and impressed he admitted to you, that Sukuna had managed to change the locks whilst he was gone. 

At least, the man had enough love in his cold, dead heart to leave a bag full of clothes — even if those clothes were mostly pyjama shirts, all the boxers in Toji’s drawer, one pair of sock (it had Gojo’s face on it and Toji explained it was a birthday gift that he has no plans of ever using), and one singular shoe.

It’d been five days since you’ve both been punished simultaneously and you’ve compiled your observations, none you’re allowed to publish, however, since apparently being made excommunicado from your own apartment is ‘humiliating’. 

So, here is a summary:

Roommate!Toji is surprisingly clean. He's insistent on certain things. Certainly not OCD about it, but he washes his plates, and yours, straight away, reasoning that since you cooked, it’s only right that he tidies up. He leaves them in the sink to soak before diligently scrubbing and drying. It’s common sense, of course, yet so shocking you just had to write it down.

But he's also messy. He leaves his gym bag, half opened, dirty towel just wallowing in sweat, on the floor. You've tripped over it so many times you've considered burning the damn bag. And his socks, oh god, his socks. He bought more since Sukuna wouldn't answer his messages and they've been scattered all over your place. Sock on the kitchen counter, sock in the crevices of the sofa, sock under the bed, sock on your desk, sock by the front door. It's like you're eat, sleep and breathing socks.

And if you have to say sock one more time you might just...

Let's leave it at that.

Roommate!Toji doesn’t like horror movies. He hates the romcoms you suggest and would much rather watch things like Transformers and Fast and Furious. Classic guy stuff. It’s been a constant battle for the remote, but if you offer something up, then you’ve found he’s a lot more receptive to your choices. 

This leads to your next observation. 

Roommate!Toji is hyper-sexual. If you want to watch 10 Things I Hate About You, then you’ll have to let him throatfuck you until you’re teary eyed and speechless. On the flip side, if he really wants to watch a basketball game, then he’s lifting you onto his lap, sliding your shorts off and pushing your panties to the side to wring orgasms out of you. One for every shot his favourite team makes. This sometimes means you’re left wet, gasping and gaping at nothing. And the other times, you’re being forced to cum and cum and cum until you’re so sure you’ve came as much as the universe could possibly allow anyone in one lifetime. 

He proves you wrong. 

Roommate!Toji isn't the only one who's got sex on their mind. That became abundantly clear on the first night when he promised to 'behave' to show his gratitude for your act of kindness. You replied with a 'good' and left it at that. However, it quickly started to gnaw at you. The way you were cuddled next to him on the sofa, all warm under the blanket, eating popcorn, watching some show you can't even remember now, and he wasn't squeezing your tit or kneading your ass like he used to before.

So, whilst he was into the show, you snuck your hand underneath, rubbing it against the bulge of his sweats and ignoring his amused huff. you felt him harden in your palm, and the promise of the stretch made your mouth and your pussy moisten. you whispered in his ear, 'can I just sit on it, please?'

He almost choked on a popcorn.

There were no other words exchanged, he just shoved his stupidly big hand down your panties and stretched you out on his fingers, taking all the time in the world, as he always did, knowing the kind of damage his even more stupidly big cock could do.

And then you were sinking down, back to his chest, as you continued to watch the show.

Despite turning out to be almost just as horny as he is, ultimately, it was the captain who just struggled to control himself. This brings you to your next point.

Roommate!Toji can’t keep his hands off of you. When you’re cooking, he comes up behinds you, grinds his already half-hard dick into your ass, groping your hip, stomach and tits like they owe him money. Then he’ll whisper ‘smell so good, ma’ or ‘am fucking starved, doll’ into your ear, and you find that dinner has to be pushed back an hour. Even if you’re passing by him to get a glass of water, he’s gripping your hip to still you, just so he can land a harsh smack that leaves your ass burning and jiggling for his viewing pleasure.

Roommate!Toji must be restrained at night. Even completely knackered from a whole day’s practice, he still finds the energy to wrestle you into his favourite position: face down, ass up. He’ll plow into you at an unforgiving pace, seeking out the shrieks of complete and utter pleasure from you, wanting to see his cock coated in your wetness. Or when you arrive late, having had an assignment to finish off in the library, and he’s already fallen asleep, you’ll lay beside him and doze off. 

And then…

Roommate!Toji has a somno kink! You figured that out a while back, when you first started sleeping together. Often waking up, with his hands on you, sucking a hickey on your neck. He never went farther, seemingly just enjoying the feel of your soft skin. Your ex was never so passionate, rarely ever even cuddled. Toji, on the other hand, seemed to seek you out even in his sleep. 

It makes your heart blush.

Roommate!Toji brings out hidden desires in you. Turns out, you also like somnophilia. You like waking up to his head between your legs, or his cock rubbing against that rubbery part of you that has you seeing stars. And you like, just as much, creeping under covers, pulling down his boxers, and waking him up with his cock down your throat. 

Of course, all that being said, it hasn’t just been pure sex. 

Roommate!Toji is a surprisingly good cook. You had expected him to be the type to order takeout, or eat ready made meals. But, and now that you think about it, you really shouldn’t have been so shocked, he’s quite rigid with his meal plans. He knows just how much protein and calories he’s taking in, he’s always snacking on fruit salads which he’ll share with you, and he shakes his head with a playful disappointment when you pop a candy instead in your mouth. 

Roommate!Toji is a great help around the apartment. He’ll grumble and call you a pussy when you shriek over a spider, cupping it in his hands and throwing it out without another word. It’s really nice not to have to do gymnastics or parkour to reach the cups at the top shelves, just have to beckon him over and he’s grabbing it for you with a lopsided grin, taking the opportunity to pin you against the counter and imposing his intimidating height, almost like a toll.

It gets you so wet when he helps you out. 

Roommate!Toji, despite being an athlete who has to wake up early for practice, is not a morning person. Sure, he’ll get up and do whatever he has to. But he won’t like it. And he makes it known. In the mornings when he needs to train or go for a run, he’s muttering curses and stretching with annoyance. But, when he’s got nothing on and his body still rouses from the routine, he’ll just lie there, sometimes on his phone, waiting for you. And other times, when he simply just cannot wait a second longer, he’ll play with your hair, enjoying the scent of your conditioner. 

You’ve caught him, a couple times, scanning your features with a small smile he didn’t realise he had. 

Roommate!Toji is shit at getting groceries. He always forgets something, whether that’s toothpaste, bread, eggs, milk, tissues and so on and so forth. It’s hilarious to think he can remember so many strategies, game plans, NBA stats, but when it comes to simple household items, he has not a clue. 

Roommate!Toji is ticklish. This is the best observation. Despite being all big and strong and oh so tough, the man squirms when your dancing fingers go anywhere near his waist or neck. He'll push you away with a string of curses, rolling his eyes at your giggles. And when you step closer for another attack, he'll twist you into a headlock. The man loves his headlocks. Says he does it all the time to his brother. In the midst of a full nelson, a 'punishment' of his, he made you promise not to do it again.

And when he's bullying his fat cock head inside your gummy walls, kissing your cervix with every thrust, it's just too hard to keep your wits about you. Which he knows very well. What he doesn't know, however, is that you had your fingers crossed.

You'll pull out your killing blow some other time, that's for sure.

Roommate!Toji doesn’t care what people think. Not really. Even though you’re a nobody and there are girls always cheering for him and waiting for him outside his classes or the court, his eyes find yours through the crowd. During an exhilarating game that converted you into a basketball tolerant (not a fan just quite yet), every time he scored, yours meet his. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

He was merely looking to see if you had seen how impressive it was. 

Or maybe there was someone behind you that caught his eye, perhaps someone flashed him. 

You don’t want to know. 

You can’t know. 

Roommate!Toji is moving back out today. He’s taken the basketball that laid around in the corner of the living room, the varsity jacket hanging on the door, and green toothbrush that stood next to your baby blue one. He’s packing up as you write this and neither of you are saying anything. 

There really isn’t anything to say. 

You both knew this would have to end eventually, in fact, you had been complaining every time he left the toilet seat up or left water marks on your coffee table or every time he wouldn’t let you get up from bed to use the toilet because he’s ‘too comfortable’ or because ‘you’re so warm’. 

Roommate!Toji points to a gift bag pushed behind some textbooks on your desk. You pause. He asks you what it is and you have nothing to say. He wasn’t supposed to ask, he should have pretended he didn’t see it, just as he had been since he first walked into your room with his bag.

The answer’s already hanging in the air, like a ball skirting around the edge of the hoop, waiting to drop, either in or out. 

Neither of you are willing to bet. 

So, you kiss Roommate!Toji goodbye, slapping his wandering hands away and he’s telling you he’ll text. 

And whether he will or will not, doesn’t really matter, because you’ve got some papers to write. 

But you hope he does. 

[beyscape]

pillow talk

Aemond Tagaryen x reader

Summary: Aemond's wife is upset when Prince Regent does not pay attention to her, so she takes the matters into her own hands.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Mostly fluff with some mild suggestive content, just something quick!! Requests are open for more Aemond—we can never have too much of Aemond, tbh.

“Are you too busy for your wife, my Prince? Or shall I say Prince Regent?” You raised an eyebrow at Aemond, the slight smirk on your lips not quite reaching your eyes.

“I must finish reading this, wife.” Aemond did not look up from the papers he was bent over, not even deigning to answer your teasing.

You rounded the bed with a disappointed hum, taking in the figure of your husband; he had already shrugged off his leathers he was fond of wearing during the day, his sword and daggers discarded around the room. Now remaining in his linen breeches and shirt, he had even thrown off his eyepatch in an annoyed huff; beneath his furrowed brows, the sapphire gleamed in the candlelight that illuminated your chambers.

Careful to not disturb the papers strewn on the bed, you sat down next to him, head tilted to the side. “Urgent matters?” You asked, though you had a feeling that you knew the answer. 

Being named Prince Regent had placed a great burden on his shoulders—those very same shoulders that were now tense as Aemond bent over the papers, the very same shoulders you loved to run your fingernails over as he made love to you.

Your husband only hummed in response. You tried not to feel hurt—you understood it, after all; how much he had waited for this moment, to finally be in charge, to finally have power over the way the Realm was ruled, and yet…

And yet.

You still felt hurt by the way his attention had shifted off of you completely—even when he shared your bed at night it was to spend couple hours in fitful sleep, he would come to the bed long after you had already fallen asleep and would often be already awake and busy with his duties long before the sunlight would break through the windows. 

“Aemond…” You sighed, lips pursed in annoyance. “Have your duties not disrupted our lives enough? Must they join us in bed also?” 

“Just a moment more,” His low voice trailed off, his focus on the papers unbroken; it was all-too-clear that your words had not even registered with the Prince Regent. 

You looked at him for another moment, watching the way his jaw tensed and the way his eye trailed the words of some war report or another from the Realm. He was bent over the documents, his long, unbound hair falling off of his shoulder like a silky curtain. 

“Fine, then.” A huff escaped your lips. “I am going to bed.” You blew off the candle by your bedside before laying down, your irritation with your husband growing rapidly as he still did not grace you with a single word or look of acknowledgement. 

You laid there for a moment, listening to the crackling of the fire and the occasional shifting of papers.Any other night the sounds, accompanied by the deep, steady breathing of Aemond, would have lulled you to sleep—but not this time. Not this night, certainly not after having been all but ignored by your husband for days on end. 

Unable to stand the silence and Aemond’s treatment of you any longer, you knew you had to do something, anything to finally snap him out of his deep focus. Quietly, your hand trailed to Aemond’s side of the bed, your fingers gripping the edge of his pillow. You held your breath for a moment, a silent debate ongoing within you, trying to estimate his potential anger and your chances of finally getting some quality time with your husband.

Your desire for the latter greatly exceeded your fear of the former—so you did what you had to do. You smacked Aemond’s tense shoulders with his pillow. 

Aemond’s hands stilled as a moment stretched between the two of you. His head turned towards you ever-so-slightly, brows still furrowed. “Did you just… hit me? With a pillow?” He asked, incredulous. 

You shrugged at him. “Whatever else was a displeased wife to do? Seemed like the tamest of the options I considered.” You raised an eyebrow, a gesture of a slight challenge. 

Aemond let the paper clutched in his hands fall back onto the bed, blending in with the rest of the documents. In a flash his slender hand was wrapped around your ankle, you let out a shriek as Aemond pulled you towards himself; suddenly the previously monumental duties were forgotten as his hands travelled the length of your body rapidly, teasing and tickling at every turn and moment. 

A wicked glint was in his eye as he rendered you a breathless mess—laughter came out of your lips in gasps as you tried to hold onto his arms in a vain attempt to stop him. “Aemond—I,” you breathed, “Stop, I’m sorry, stop!”

Accepting your retreat Aemond stopped, pinning your hands above your head, a slight smirk still playing on his lips. “You cheeky, insolent thing,” he chastised, leaning in as he hovered over your figure on the bed. “However shall you pay for this, wife?”

“I think I already have,” your chest heaved beneath him, still smiling as you tried to catch your breath.

He looked at you for a moment, his eye tracing your face with a careful look—one that was hungry to take in every little breath you take, every little expression on your face. His smirk faded, leaving its place to a look that seemed…apologetic, almost.

It was such an unfamiliar look on the handsome face of your husband, it sent a sudden pang of ache through you. You tilted your head a little to the side, taking in his pensive expression, the way you could practically see him process his thoughts and figure out the best way to express them. Such an intimate knowledge this was—to know Aemond so well was a privilege no one else had… Not a single soul in the Realm but you.

“I suppose,” He began, tentatively. “I suppose I have not had much time for you, as of late.” His thumb rubbed the skin of your pinned up wrist; it was still unbelievable, how the smallest of Aemond’s touches managed to affect you so monumentally. 

“Any time, more like,” You offered with a pout, his gaze immediately falling to your lips.

He hummed, a low and guttural sound—his sombre air tinged with desire set a flame burning in the pit of your stomach. “Then I am the one who should make it up to you.” 

Aemond’s head dipped down, pressing a long kiss to your lips. He let go of your pinned wrists in favour of his hand cupping your cheek, his other hand running down your side to tighten on your waist. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, his weight pressing down on you. One of your hands sneaked into his hair while the other wrapped around his shoulder—you held onto him as though if you let go, the world would shift from underneath you. 

He pulled back slightly, reluctantly, to inhale, his eye never leaving your face. “Are you truly displeased with me?” He asked, his voice tainted with a vulnerable insecurity that never surfaced outside of the confines of your chambers. 

“Aemond,” you sighed, raising your face to press a kiss to his jaw, then to the corner of his mouth. His eyes fluttered close at the contact, your name tumbled out of his lips as a plea, as a prayer. “I have missed you is all. I am not vexed with you.” 

He looked into your eyes deeply, looking for any signs of insincerity or deception; he nodded once, twice, when he only found unwavering affection. Aemond dipped down to kiss you again and again, the first one being heart-achingly tender. 

“There was…” You said in between kisses, “a matter of making it up to me?” 

“Indeed,” His kisses trailed down your skin, his lips finding the spot connecting your neck to your shoulder. “I am in your service, dear wife.”

Your head tilted back almost instinctively, overcome with the desire to give him more access to you—to give him everything and anything he asked for. 

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed as his kisses continued to trail down, his gravelly voice reverberating against your skin.

“You,” a small gasp escaped your lips as his hand caressed the length of your leg, travelling up, up, up until he reached his destination and squeezed in triumph. “No more teasing. I just want you.”

Aemond pulled back with a satisfied little smirk that widened when you whined at the absence of his touch and his kisses. “As my dear wife wishes.” 

He looked down at your figure sprawled on the bed with a distinct hunger in his eye—like his appetite would never be sated, no matter how much he devoured you, like he would never be able to get enough of you. 

As he took off his white shirt, revealing the toned slender figure beneath, you knew one thing: Prince Aemond was going to take his sweet time giving you all the attention you desired and demanded from him—that is, at least, until the morning rays brought back to the mind the weight of duty and Crown alike, until your new reality returned.

You pulled Aemond down for another kiss, letting the taste of his lips ground you to the moment—you felt aflame, your skin flush and fingers tingling with longing to touch, to feel, to hold. It was magic; it was a blessing, a curse—to want someone so much, to be rendered half-mad with just a look, a touch, a gasp. 

Damn duty and the Crown, you thought hazily as Aemond pressed a kiss to the spot above your heart—they could wait their turn. In this moment, Aemond was all yours, unburdened by the troubles of ruling the Realm, by the waging war. 

In this moment, Aemond was all yours—and you would cherish every second of it.

[say-al0e]

What Are Friends For

Rating: M | This is smut, no one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: A conversation with friends reminds you that you're about to begin college as a virgin. It bothers you more than you care to admit so you consult your best friend, Eddie; is virginity really that much of a turn off? (Or, best friend!Eddie takes your virginity) Warnings: virgin!reader, PinV, some nerves about virginity and first times. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.2k

Eddie sat on his bedroom floor, one knee bent with an elbow resting atop it, in a rare display of quiet contemplation. With his back pressed to the dresser, cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, he scribbled in the notebook he used to write lyrics and, occasionally, plan campaigns. 

Rain pattered against the roof of the trailer, heavy and loud and easily drowning out the tape Eddie had playing to fill the quiet. From your perch on his bed, yellowed paperback held open in your hands, you could see it falling in sheets outside the window. With the weather so dreary, there was little you could do other than sit inside - bored, miserable, rereading a book borrowed from Eddie’s shelf that you could practically recite in your sleep - and with him otherwise occupied, you were left alone with thoughts you preferred not to dwell on.

Though you’d read the book in hand a dozen times, could recite the notes Eddie’d scribbled in the margins by heart, if he asked, it would be impossible to relay where in the plot you’d stopped. The words that usually captivated you blurred into one, a mess of nonsensical characters in fading ink, so you dropped it into the sheets with a quiet sigh and rolled onto your side to glance at Eddie in hopes of finding a distraction.

The dark curls you loved were tamed into a low bun, hair swept away from his neck to provide some sort of relief from the oppressive summer heat, with a few strands framing his face. The plush of his lips were swollen, bitten in concentration over the course of the day as he stared intently at the paper. Those dark eyes were narrowed in concentration as he scribbled relentlessly and you could see the tip of his tongue as he pressed it between his lips.

Eddie’s leather jacket and battle vest were replaced by a cutoff Metallica shirt, cropped at the bottom to expose his lower stomach - the band of his shorts, the missing band of his underwear, the dark smattering of hair just beneath his navel between splotches of ink trailing into the band of his shorts - every time he shifted. Most of his tattoos were on display, save for the ones near his collarbones, and you wondered if he realized you could draw most of them from memory.

It would’ve been nice to be able to say that you were struck, just in that moment, by how attractive Eddie was. To confess that you’d never noticed how achingly beautiful your best friend was would’ve been a lie as his beauty was something you’d always seen.

Few things baffled you more than how people - closed-minded classmates, shallow girls who sought out pigheaded jocks - saw Eddie as anything other than breathtakingly beautiful. His personality was enough, a kind heart and a brilliant mind, but personality aside, you always thought he looked like someone out of a magazine. He was a rockstar stuck in tiny little Hawkins, a figure from your wildest fantasies brought to life.

The wild curl of his hair, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the bright glimmer of his eyes; it all made you giddy, a little lovesick in a way only Nikki Sixx had so far managed. With every glimpse of Eddie that you stole, you grew a little more enamored and as a conversation you’d had earlier that morning simmered at the forefront of your mind, you wondered if that was part of the problem.

A conversation with friends, the majority of whom rarely pressed about your love life - mostly because they knew there was nothing to share, in part due to your feelings for Eddie - that began as excited chatter about college, classes, and, ultimately, boys, sent you spiraling.

Somehow, the conversation went from playful fun to pressing for details about your lack of dates and, finally, a shared certainty that college would change things for you. However, an off-handed comment about inexperience being a turn-off made you question whether college would change anything at all.

Pulling yourself back to reality, reminding yourself that the only opinion that mattered was your own, proved impossible. Every thought that crossed your mind centered on your inexperience, a trait your friends acknowledged and giggled at, and you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out.

“Eddie?”

If he noticed the tremor in your voice - and, this time, he likely didn’t - he said nothing. Instead, he hummed his acknowledgement. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

The pet name was casual, something that slipped off his tongue easily, just as it had done a thousand times before without a second thought, but it never failed to set fire to your skin. There was something about the way his voice wrapped around the word, a little rough around the edges but dripping honey - a little darker, a little deeper - in a tone you’d never been privy to, that had your heart hammering in your chest. The thud of it was loud, drowned out the music and the rain, and you wondered if Eddie could hear it, too, as he glanced up at you for the first time in an hour.

Whatever expression you thought you’d hidden, however careful you imagined you’d been, Eddie saw right through you. With only a tentative glance at your face, his lips pulled into a frown as he dropped his composition book into a pile of laundry before shuffling closer to you. When he sat with his back pressed to the bed, arm lifting to rest on the mattress as his hand sought yours, you could see the concern clouding his eyes. “You alright?”

A brief thought of brushing him off, of pretending that you were fine - bored, or maybe tired, just for an excuse to have sought his attention - but Eddie knew you well. He’d seen your face, caught the glimpse of upset in your eyes, and wouldn’t settle for anything less than a real answer.

With a sigh, you wrapped your arms around your knees and spared him a sideways glance. “I… You know how I’ve never…”

An annoyed huff, bothered by how difficult it seemed to be just to say the words, escaped as you shook your head. Eddie tipped his to get a better look at your face and the weight of his gaze burning into your skin made it difficult to concentrate. Regardless of the knowledge that this was Eddie - someone who loved you, someone who wouldn’t judge you or laugh at you, despite how objectively stupid you imagined you were being - it was still difficult to string together a coherent sentence.

“Can you not look at me, please? I can’t think with you looking at me.”

Eddie was unfazed by your request. It was one he’d grown used to over the years, one you threw at him every time you wanted to discuss something serious - or embarrassing or simply vulnerable - and couldn’t find the nerve. So, instead of questioning you, he simply pushed himself up and climbed onto the bed to join you. He shifted his body to press his back to the wall, stretched his legs across the mattress, and held out a hand.

“Alright, c’mere.”

When you placed your hand in his, shifted onto your knees to shuffle a little closer, Eddie twined his fingers with yours and tugged. With little effort, he hauled you onto his lap. A soft hand pressed to the back of your head and guided your face to hide in the crook of his neck - a position you’d been in a thousand times before, a position that made you feel safe to bare your soul.

This time, however, you felt your heart begin to hammer against your ribcage as you grew overwhelmingly aware of the heat of Eddie’s body pressed to yours. Everything seemed too clear, too loud, too real; the green apple scent of his shampoo, the herbal hint of weed that always seemed to linger, the softness of his skin as your hand rested against his bicep, the firm press of his body as he held you in place, the callous of his fingers as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to brush at the bare skin of your back.

It was almost too much.

Rather than comforting, you felt Eddie’s touch set your skin alight. It needled at your nerve endings, hastened the pace of your already spiraling thoughts, and you nearly lost your train of thought as he hummed to regain your attention.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

The rasp of his voice in your ear, warm and soft and concerned in a way he only ever seemed to be for you, cut clear through the hammering of your heart. It filled your chest with a sticky warmth and you inhaled as deep as you could in an effort to steel yourself for the conversation you weren’t certain you wanted to have.

“You know how I had breakfast with my friends this morning?” Eddie hummed, acknowledging the plans you’d had before the day devolved into rain and quiet. “We were talking and I know it’s stupid, but I just… I started thinking about it and I couldn’t stop.”

Eddie hummed, acknowledging and encouraging you to continue, as he waited patiently. “I’ve never really been on a date and guys don’t really like me. That’s fine, I guess. I mean, it’s not,” you amended, huffing slightly as you traced his tattoo idly. “But there’s not a lot I can do to change it. Anyway, they were kind of laughing about it. They were talking about college changing things and then Amanda said it would be a major turnoff and I… Well, she’s right. I don’t want to go to college a virgin who’s never even held hands with someone romantically. It’s not a major deal but I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I really don’t want to have some cute college guy ask me to make out and have to tell him that I’ve never done that and him think I’m a total loser and lose interest in me.”

The entire confession spilled past your lips in a rushed whisper, mumbled against Eddie’s skin in a hurried huff as you wasted no time thinking. Thinking about it, agonizing over how to express your concern, would only make it harder and you knew that getting it all out in the open would be the easiest option.

Still, that did little to calm your racing heart as Eddie’s hands stilled against your skin.

“Sweetheart.” He sighed, understanding and just a little gentler than you were accustomed to, as he lifted one hand to cup your cheek. “Look at me, please.” With great effort, you allowed him to tip your head so that he could search your face. After a beat of silence, he assured you. “There’s nothing wrong with still being a virgin and it’s not a turnoff. If some asshole college guy thinks any different of you, that’s his loss. Just means he’s not the one for you.”

Rationally, you knew that.

That was something you’d told yourself a thousand times over, a reminder repeated every time the topic arose. But rationality had little place in the whirlwind of emotion the conversation drudged up.

“I know,” you promised him, dipping your head to focus on the fading letters of his t-shirt. Tracing the nearly destroyed ink, you hummed. “I just… I don’t want to be pressured into it and I don’t want it to be a bad memory. I know it’s not going to be perfect but I just want it to be good. I want it to be like something from a movie.” Though you didn’t really want to know, though you knew it would only curdle the already sour thoughts in the pit of your stomach, you allowed yourself to ask. “How was yours?”

Eddie laughed quietly as he resumed his soft stroking of your skin. “Nothing is like the movies,” he declared, pausing only when you huffed. “Not to rain on your parade or anything,” he teased. “But all of my firsts were pretty shitty. My first kiss was under the bleachers in junior high and she laughed at me after because it was just a dare. And my first time was over in, like, three seconds. I was high and horny and came the second she let me inside. I’m just glad she never told anyone. But shit happens, sweetheart. It gets better, easier. Just find someone you trust.”

Without thinking, you said, “I trust you.” For a split second, it felt as if the world stopped spinning. You willed a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole as you immediately lifted your hand to cover your mouth. “I don’t… I don’t know why I just said that. Fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie. I-“

Instead of allowing you to pull away, to put a considerable amount of space between you both, Eddie held you tight to his chest as he tipped your head once more. “It’s okay,” he assured you, dipping his head to meet your eyes. There was no hint of anger - no disgust or annoyance, no amusement; none of the negativity you imagined you’d see - and you swallowed your rising panic as he urged, “Calm down, sweetheart. Take a breath.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you repeated.

“For what?” Eddie’s question was honest, uncertain as to why you were apologizing, and you could only shrug as you withered beneath the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t know. I just… felt like I needed to?”

A beat of silence passed as Eddie studied your face. You weren’t quite sure what he was looking for but he seemed to find it as his thumb brushed your cheekbone.

“Complete honesty, alright?” It was a request Eddie made rarely as he always trusted you to be honest. It was only made in moments like this - moments of unrivaled vulnerability, moments that saw you both struggling to speak normally - and you granted it readily.

“Alright.”

“Is this… Do you want me to be your first?” The question was blunt - maybe more so than Eddie intended - but you appreciated his directness even as you inhaled sharply.

“I think so,” you admitted, unable to shift your gaze even as his warm brown eyes set your skin alight. “I mean, I trust you, more than anyone else. You’re… You’re Eddie,” you pointed out, smiling softly. “You’re my best friend. I don’t think there’s anyone better.”

“This isn’t something you have to do, sweetheart. You don’t have to lose it right now,” he reminded you, soft but certain. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Whoever you end up choosing, if they’re the right person, they won’t mind. I know you trust me but you don’t have to choose me just because you want to get it over with.”

“That’s not why I’m choosing you.” Eddie tipped his head, an uncertainty few others were allowed to see flickering across his face as he awaited your elaboration. “I know that this will change everything,” you admitted, voice a whisper behind the rain.

“It doesn’t have to,” Eddie interjected, voice as quiet as you’d ever heard it. “Whatever happens, or doesn’t, is entirely up to you.”

“But I want it to!” He blinked, surprised by the conviction in your voice, but kept quiet as you continued. “The reason I’ve had so much trouble finding someone else, someone I want, is because I want you. I have for a long time.”

Though you’d known how you felt about Eddie for a long while - swallowed it down, hid it for fear of ruining the best friendship you’d ever had - admitting the words aloud felt final. It felt heavy, sinking to the pit of your stomach like a stone, but you knew that the only way out was through.

There were only two options. The first, Eddie would reject you - never harshly, soft and sweet in the way he seemed to only be with you - seemed most likely to you. But the second, that was the option you wished for.

Eddie returning your feelings, wanting you just as you wanted him, seemed plausible some days. When he held your hand in crowds, when he lounged in his bed and spent hours discussing books and movies and music with you, when he threw an arm around your shoulders and grinned brighter than the sun every time you made it to one of his shows; you saw a future in which he loved you, too.

But insecurity, irrational and loud, told you that you were imagining the softness of his touch or the gentle tone of his voice. It made you uneasy, kept you from admitting your feelings for fear of the worst, and you nearly wished you’d allowed the insecurity to win as silence stretched around you.

Until Eddie spoke and destroyed any remaining shred of insecurity.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while, sweetheart.”

Soft fingers brushed across your cheek, tracing the slope lightly as Eddie watched you blink owlishly. There was a moment of stunned silence, a beat in which you wondered if your dalliances with the supernatural had damaged your hearing more significantly than you’d realized, before you inhaled deeply.

“Are you… are you sure?”

The soft smile on Eddie’s face was reassuring. “Very sure. Remember when we first met?” A spark of memory - a flash of the past, the moment you nearly bowled him over on your way to find Steve before facing yet another supernatural threat - as your brows furrowed. “I started going to history after that, just ‘cause I knew you were in that class.”

“That’s been a while.” It hadn’t, not really - not in the grand scheme of the misery of Hawkins - but it felt like forever as Eddie shrugged.

“Time flies,” he declared with a half-shrug. The soft brush of Eddie’s fingers across your rapidly heating skin continued, easily mapping the features you occasionally caught him studying with an intensity you now recognized as love, and he smiled as you inhaled a shaking breath.

“I don’t know if I remember a time before falling in love with you.”

The admission was quiet, a whisper in the still of Eddie’s room, but it felt as if you’d shouted it. Vulnerability was not new, not with Eddie, though baring your soul so completely was terrifying. He accepted it easily, however, and smiled as he cradled your jaw.

“You don’t have to butter me up, sweetheart,” he teased - an effort to lighten the mood, not downplay your emotions, and ease the deafening thundering of your heart. “I’m already yours.”

With that, he leaned in and bumped your nose with his own. He waited, giving you the final choice - whether you truly wanted to take that step or not - and allowed you to make the first move.

Though you knew Eddie would never make fun of you - not for something serious, something that meant so much to you, anyway - there was still a sense of hesitance as you studied him. Up close, you could see the tiny imperfections, the little lines and freckles and spots that made him, him, and you knew that this was what you wanted.

Before he could reassure you, tell you that it was fine if you weren’t sure, if you needed more time, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss itself was not perfect. It was not something out of a film, with fireworks and an immediate, instinctual understanding of what to do. It was clumsy, a little tentative, and curious, but it was good. The warmth of Eddie’s palm bleeding into your skin, the brush of his curls as his bangs tickled your forehead, the soft exhale he released as you pressed closer, just a touch relieved you felt comfortable enough to trust him with this; all elements you would’ve never considered important before the moment at hand.

But all too soon, it was over.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, Eddie broke the embrace, pulled away just enough to allow you to draw in a deep breath, and smiled. “You gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he teased, thumb brushing your cheekbone as he took in the sight of you - glazed eyes, parted lips. “Don’t want you passing out on me.”

With anyone else, it would’ve felt like a slight - a jab, rude and mean-spirited - but you knew Eddie. You knew that it was light, fond, and rolled your eyes in response. “Breathe, got it,” you nodded, serious in your study. “Any other notes?”

“Nah. For a first kiss, it wasn’t too bad,” he hummed, after pausing a moment in faux thought. There was a dramatic air of seriousness, though you could tell he was still teasing. “Technique could use a little work, though.”

There was a twinkle in his eyes, a glittering mirth that told you he wasn’t poking fun at you - not really, not maliciously - and you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded. “I suppose someone will have to teach me,” you reasoned, fingers twisting in his curls when he hummed as if it was the most rational thought. “I learn through experience.”

That grin returned, bright - pleased that you seemed to have relaxed; and, truly, you had, as there was nothing to fear in Eddie’s embrace. He’d proven that time and time again. “Lucky for you,” he hummed, tipping his head to brush your lips with his own, “I’m an excellent teacher. Very committed. Willing to spend all night here, if that’s what it takes.”

Then, his lips were on yours once again.

This kiss was more certain, a little more eager, as Eddie took the reins and guided you. He used the hand cradling your jaw to tip your head, to turn it just the way he wanted, and hummed encouragingly as you melted into him. It was still a little clumsy, still exploratory in a way you’d never experienced, but to you, it was perfect. 

And as Eddie’s free hand began to drift down your shoulder, careful not to move too fast, you broke from him just long enough to speak.

“It’s okay,” you promised him, breathless - chest heaving, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. “You can touch me. I want you to.”

With that, you returned your mouth to his.

Every press of Eddie’s mouth to yours, every swipe of his fingers over your heated skin, should’ve made you more nervous. This was farther than you’d ever gone, a complete deviation from the norm in which you were overlooked - only heard about experiences such as this from friends - and you worried there would be an overwhelming anxiety in the pit of your stomach as you attempted to gain some of that experience. 

However, as Eddie’s hands began to wander and his tongue traced the seam of your lips, you found that it was the exact opposite.

Eddie made you comfortable, set you completely at ease.

The idea that this would be the culmination of every experience you’d dreamt of having didn’t make you nervous. The rapid thundering of your heart was not from fear but an excitement, a gratitude that your firsts were being taken by someone you’d loved for so long.

There was an eagerness, not to get it over with but to experience it - to understand you’d been missing. And Eddie seemed to realize that as his hands began to dip beneath the hem of your shirt.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he urged, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes - grinning when you blinked slowly, attempting to regain your sense of reality. “How’d you imagine your first time? Bet it was romantic, maybe some candles or something. Not here, with Metallica playing in the background.”

“Sometimes,” you admitted, fingers playing with the strands fallen from his low bun. “But other times it was quick, in someone’s backseat with the radio playing, just to get it over with, I think. But, lately…” Eddie hummed, urging you to continue, as his hands drifted higher - fingers brushing the underside of your breasts, dragging back down your stomach and stealing your focus. “Lately, it’s been you and it’s been here and Metallica’s been playing in the background. You’re in my head but you’re prettier in real life.”

“Flattery, sweetheart,” he teased, grin bright as he tipped his head to nose at your jaw, though you could see the emotion glittering in his eyes. “You know, I’ve thought about this,” he admitted, hands lifting higher - cupping your breasts, earning a gasp from you at the warmth of his palms against your skin. “‘Bout you, here. What you’d look like, what you’d sound like,” he hummed, appreciative when you sighed contentedly as he began to knead the soft flesh. “Think I like the real thing more.”

From your position on his lap, you could feel him growing harder, pressed to your thigh as you shifted. He hid it well, his own desire, but you heard the sharp inhale he released as you reached for the scrunchie holding his hair back and brushed the tent in his shorts. 

“Can I take this off?” The question was breathed against your skin, nearly lost to the heavy thud of your heart, but you managed to nod as Eddie’s hands fell to the hem of your top.

Eddie had seen you in a bathing suit before, had seen you in just a bra after a torrential downpour left you both soaked and shivering, but this was different. Soon, he would see you completely and though you felt a bit of nerves, you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t judge. So, you shifted and worked to get rid of the soft fabric.

When your shirt joined a handful of others on his floor, he made no effort to ogle you - though you imagined that would come later, when he knew you were well and truly relaxed. Instead, he returned his mouth to yours and his hands to cup your breasts.

With you sufficiently distracted, Eddie easily maneuvered the pair of you so that you were on your back, lying pliant beneath him. When you hummed, laughed slightly at the bounce as you both settled into the mattress, he broke the kiss and pressed his mouth to your rapidly overheating skin. He started at the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, before beginning to trail a path down your throat. 

“If you change your mind,” he hummed, voice muffled against your skin, “just tell me. Tell me everything, okay? Don’t worry about being too loud. No such thing.”

“Not gonna change my mind,” you assured him, voice pitching higher as his teeth scraped over the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “Want this, want you.”

At that, Eddie continued his descent. His lips left a trail of fire in their wake and you gave in to his urging to not worry about your volume. With each brush of his mouth, each tickle of his hair against your skin, you made no effort to hide the soft noises of pleasure. And with each one, Eddie seemed to grow more and more eager.

Those wide eyes lifted to meet yours as he reached your chest, one hand kneading soft flesh as he nipped at the sensitive skin of the opposite breast. He sucked a bruise into the skin, shooting you a wink as he did so, before dipping lower and capturing your nipple between his lips. And when you gasped, hands flying to his hair, he hummed in approval.

Eddie spent a few moments focusing on your breasts, moments in which you realized you couldn’t have chosen a better first partner - someone who loved you, someone who was more interested in making the moment good for you than he was in the act itself - before he began to dip lower.

“I’m totally down to eat you out,” he offered, glancing up at you with those wide eyes, “but if you’re not up for it yet, that’s okay. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”

For a moment, you considered his offer. The press of his body to yours, the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his hands and mouth; it was all overwhelming, in the most beautiful way. Still, you weren’t sure if that was something you wanted in that moment. It sounded fun, and he seemed very serious about his offer, but you weren’t sure how much you wanted so soon. So, you decided to decline his offer, for the time being.

“Next time,” you promised, fingers carding through his curls as he pressed soft kisses to your stomach. “I… Sounds nice, but feels like too much this time,” you admitted, not ashamed but almost.

Eddie, however, easily accepted your answer. “Might be,” he agreed, with an easy grin. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.” It was teasing, accompanied by another wink, and made you roll your eyes.

“You’re pretty good at never closing it,” you countered, squealing when he nipped your skin. 

“We’ll revisit this conversation when you’re comfortable,” he teased, grinning as he shifted up and pressed his mouth to yours once more.

As he distracted you with a kiss - this one messier, more eager than the last - his hands continued to wander. They trailed down your stomach, traced the same path as his lips, before dipping beneath the band of your shorts. His fingers brushed the warm skin, earning a sharp gasp.

“Still okay?” The question was breathed against your lips, and you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you assured him, though your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest. “Still okay.”

Calloused fingers dipped lower, brushed over the fabric of your panties, and slipped between your spread thighs. There wasn’t a ton of room for him to move, and you realized that he was at least trying to get you used to the sensation as his fingers brushed the fabric covering your folds. If he felt the damp patch - he did, you could tell by the pleased grin he wore - he said nothing. He would tease you for it later. This time, he simply returned his mouth to yours.

Eddie gave you a few moments to adjust to his touch, his fingers brushing the fabric - teasing, soft - before he nudged the now soaked fabric aside and allowed his fingers to drag through the slick gathered there. His touch was light, not hesitant but conscious, careful, waiting in case you changed your mind.

It should’ve made you nervous, should’ve set you on edge, but there was only pleasure as you melted into his embrace and tugged at the curls framing his face as his thumb found your clit.

The touch was electric, filled your veins with a blistering warmth that seemed all encompassing, and you began to understand why your friends made such a big deal of it all. The touch itself was good, better than your own fingers, but knowing that it was Eddie, with his wide eyes and pretty smile, made it that much better.

Every press of his fingers grew more experimental, dragging through your folds and coating his fingers in slick. He teased, brushed lightly and swallowed every sigh and soft moan you released. And after a few long, torturous moments, he finally pressed a finger to your entrance and pulled away just enough to catch sight of your face.

“I’m okay,” you promised him, before he could ask. He hummed, acknowledging, and slowly began to pump his finger, getting you used to the motion. “I kinda get it,” you hummed, gasping as his thumb brushed your clit.

“Mm, get what?”

Eddie pressed a second finger in, then, and his fingers were larger than yours. It was a bit of a stretch, a little more than you were used to, but it was nice and you told him as much as you leaned in to nip his jaw. “Why people like this, why my friends talk about it all the time.”

A quiet laugh filled your ears as he began to work you open, careful to prepare you. “Good. Glad this hasn’t put you totally off sex forever,” he teased, before he brushed his thumb over your clit and earned himself another moan. “Glad you’re not totally questioning why the fuck you thought trusting me with this was a good idea,” he laughed.

“I trust you with everything,” you promised, gasping as he began to work his fingers a touch faster and pressed a spot that made your head spin. “Oh, fuck.”

“There?” Eddie grinned, pleased to have found that spot, and made certain to pay special attention to it as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “C’mon,” he urged, “make some noise for me, sweetheart.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, and with the quickening press of his fingers into you, you found it easier and easier to make the noise he was hoping to hear. Though his space was limited, he made the most of it. He paid close attention to what made you gasp, what made you sigh, what made you moan. And with each swipe of his fingers, with every brush of his thumb over your clit, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into him as the fire burning in your veins threatened to consume you entirely.

Though your friends warned you that much of it was over quick, you hadn’t quite anticipated just how fast Edie would be able to push you over the edge. But after only a few moments of his eager ministrations, the press of his fingers and his thumb and the brush of his mouth over your heated skin, you found yourself falling over the edge with a cry of his name.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice tight as he lifted his head to watch you - the part of your lips, the flutter of your lashes, the heave of your chest. “Look pretty, coming for me. Wanna make you do it again.”

The gravel in his voice, a rasp you’d never heard, made your head spin and your chest ache in a pleasant way as his fingers continued pressing, pushing you through the aftershocks. All that existed in your mind was him; Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Despite the difficulty you felt in catching your breath, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was pulling him close and pressing your mouth to his.

Eddie easily gave in, allowed you to take your fill of him, and only removed his hand from between your thighs when you grasped his forearm. However, he didn’t pull away entirely. He simply slipped his fingers beneath the band on either side and began to nudge the fabric down.

Without breaking the kiss, you shimmied out of the fabric - no longer caring about being entirely exposed, only caring about having him closer. In the midst of the kiss, Eddie shifted, arm reaching out blindly and swiping at his nightstand. He caught a few stray items, knocked them from the table with a clatter, and you laughed as you broke the kiss.

“What’re you looking for, Eds?”

With a bit of space between you, he eagerly pulled away just enough to tug his own shirt off - up, over his head, joining the fabric on the floor - before shoving his shorts down his thighs. He wasn’t wearing any boxers and you felt hesitant to glance down, despite the permission he gave you. No matter how comfortable he made you, some things still felt like too much for the first time, especially when you’d been half-certain you would lose your virginity in some dark room and now you could see Eddie all too well.

“Condom,” he answered, grinning when you flustered. “Don’t suppose you have one in your bag, sweetheart?”

“Can’t say I do. Wasn’t exactly expecting… this.” In fact, it was the last thing you’d been expecting from your visit to Eddie’s. However, you weren’t going to complain.

“Good unexpected?” He turned his full attention to the nightstand, then, shuffling through drawers and you laughed as you hummed your agreement.

“Totally.” 

A metallic jingle caught your attention and as Eddie shuffled through the items in the nightstand in search of a condom, you searched for the source of the sound. A pair of silver hoops, hanging on a hook near the bed, caught your eye and you inhaled a shaking breath.

“…are those handcuffs?”

Eddie laughed, the noise quickly covered with a triumphant hum as he found the foil packet, before his full attention returned to you. There was an easy amusement in his eyes, warm and bright, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry about those right now, sweetheart,” he urged. “Eyes on me, yeah?"

“Can I worry about them later?” The question was teasing, tinged with only a touch of nerves as Eddie settled between your spread thighs and allowed one large hand to softly grip the plush flesh.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already thinking about next time,” he teased with a grin. “I’m creating a monster.”

“Your monster.”

That brilliant smile remained, bright and wide, as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. “My monster,” he agreed, words mumbled against your lips. He kissed you, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you boneless beneath him, before he breathed a gentle reminder. Those soft eyes met yours as he said, “We don’t have to do this. If you’ve changed your mind, if you wanna wait, that’s okay.”

“I want this. No one I’d rather do this with.”

Eddie shifted closer, then, rested more of his weight atop you and shifted so that the tip of his cock bumped your aching clit. When you inhaled sharply, fingers pressing harshly into his shoulders, Eddie shifted his hips and notched the head of his cock at your entrance. And with a final nod of your head, he pressed forward.

The immediate experience was almost expected - your friends told you that it would hurt, that the first time wasn’t much fun. Only, it wasn’t so much pain as it was discomfort. There was no blinding pain, no tears, just an odd sensation that made you squirm. There was a sharp pinch, a sensation you’d never felt before, but it was bearable.

And you told Eddie as much when he lifted a hand to your cheek and asked, “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” you assured him, still a touch breathless as he pressed closer. “Doesn’t feel good yet but it doesn’t hurt.”

Eddie leaned in, pressed a kiss to your cheek - to your nose, to your jaw, to your forehead - before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound very sorry at all. “It’ll feel good in a minute, when you get used to it.”

As difficult as it seemed, you believed him. You knew that he was right, and that he would do his best to make sure you were comfortable, so you simply tangled your fingers in his hair and buried your face in the crook of his neck to leave soft, open-mouthed kisses against the heated skin.

After a moment, Eddie was fully sheathed inside, body pressed to yours as he waited for you to give him the okay to move. As you adjusted, the kiss grew more heated and his hands wandered, returning to your core as his thumb found your aching clit.

When you jolted, clenched around him, Eddie broke the kiss. “Fuck me,” he laughed, tipping his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “Promise I’m not always ready to blow this quick. You’re just so fucking tight.”

“Flattery,” you teased, breathless as you tugged playfully at his hair. “’S’okay. You can move.”

With your permission, Eddie began to experimentally shift his hips. He moved slowly at first, pulling out only an inch or two, before he began to move in earnest. 

The pace was slow, easy, but with every shift of his hips, the better it got. The discomfort began to fade, giving way to a fullness that was more pleasant than you expected. And with his thumb brushing your clit, gathering the slick, you felt yourself enjoying it more and more.

“You know,” he hummed, lips brushing your skin as he continued shifting his hips almost experimentally, “it’s kinda hot, how much you trust me. ’S’like you’re in love with me or something.”

“Unfortunately, I am.” It was so soft, so fond, that Eddie couldn’t seem to find a teasing reply. The words were accompanied by a sticky warmth in your chest, so glad to have your feelings out in the open and returned.

The way Eddie treated you made the warmth that much more pleasant. He made your enjoyment a priority, eyes on your face as he watched for any signs of discomfort. Even as his pace grew faster, hips snapping into yours - driving deeper, pulling out farther - now that you’d adjusted, he still kept his full attention on you.

And when you felt yourself beginning to fall over the edge for the second time, he hummed in encouragement. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed, only just beginning to show how affected he was, voice wavering and breath a little labored. “Come for me. Sound so pretty when you do.”

After a few more snaps of his hips, you fell over the edge and Eddie was quick to follow with a low curse.

The high was unlike any you’d ever felt. It flooded your veins with fire, scorched you from within, and you swore you saw stars as you rode out your high. Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck to catch his breath and, after a moment of desperately attempting to catch your own, you carded your fingers through his disheveled curls. He remained atop you - weight not quite fully pressed into you but enough for you to feel - for a few long moments before pulling out and tying off the condom. He stood, disappeared into the bathroom to toss it into the trash, before he returned and fell back into bed beside you.

“So,” he hummed, bouncing onto the mattress with a laugh and tugging you into his side. “First time. Not some frat guy in the backseat of some fancy car, or in some shitty dorm room but, not bad?”

“No,” you agreed, tipping your head to press a kiss to his collarbone. “Not bad. Not some frat guy but I think this was better.”

“You think?” Eddie scoffed with faux outrage. “Okay, well, clearly we’re gonna have to do this again and again and again until you know that this was better.”

Though the night began with an insecurity, in that wonderful way of his, Eddie managed to turn it into a beautiful moment. And though you were starting college in the fall, you knew that you wouldn’t be starting a virgin or searching for some frat boy to help you gain the experiences your friends so often spoke of. You would be starting college with a boyfriend and the knowledge that your love was requited. And you loved the idea that Eddie would be with you for every next step.

After all, what are boyfriends for?

__________________________________________________________

Author's Note: Slowly but surely going through the WIPs I have had for months. :)

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[larcenywrites]

For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Warnings: 18+ | no pronouns or assignments used for reader | unprotected sex | sex in a church | kinda public sex? | an established relationship of some kind ;) | sad | but happy ending! sort of | lots of plot with some porn | comfort/fluff | a little foreplay, a little aftercare | light bondage? sorry I really love his tail

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you. 

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself. 

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly. 

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon. 

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest. 

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead. 

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church. 

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor. 

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven. 

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire. 

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say. 

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments. 

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word. 

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof. 

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding. 

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.  

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled. 

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin." 

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough. 

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you. 

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight. 

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in. 

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going. 

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs. 

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another. 

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember. 

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude. 

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs. 

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist. 

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines. 

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin. 

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure. 

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot. 

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you. 

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh. 

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead. 

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant. 

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear." 

[heavensoutofsight]

i want you to see (how you look to me) | b.e.

pairing: billie eilish x reader

synopsis: you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, billie, and you're unsure if she feels the same, choosing to keep your distance -- until one fateful night in the studio where your feelings finally boil over.

word count: 3,506

tags/warnings: angst if you squint, mostly fluffy, love confessions, mutual pining, best friends to lovers

author's note: GIFT FOR YOUUUU. sorry i took so long to write something LMAO. this was very quickly proofread at 3am. any mistakes are mine! hope you enjoy :) comments/tags/reblogs are always appreciated! (credit for the divider goes to @/cafekitsune)

In the dim light of your bedroom, you scrolled through your phone's photo gallery, feeling your heart constrict at all of the pictures you had with Billie. Some were taken directly after shows, some after particular interviews, and some during a random outing the two of you decided to go on. In many of the pictures, Billie left little to no personal space, her face squished against yours and her arms completely wrapped around you. You missed the times when Billie could touch you like that and it didn't set you aflame – when it didn't make your head spin as you took in her perfume and felt her soft body underneath your hands, her ocean eyes bright and full of mirth as she looked at you.

There was no denying that there was some distance between you and Billie now. And you hated it.

You weren't sure when it happened; when you first started feeling those stupid butterflies around her. When even just the sound of her laugh made your heart soar. If somebody asked you to pinpoint the exact moment you started falling in love with your best friend, you wouldn't be able to – it was all so fuzzy and frankly you didn't think it could be attributed to a single moment anyway. It might have been that one night she slept over and you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder as she sung you to sleep. Or the time the two of you were at her place, making some vegan recipe together, playing loud music and using spoons and forks as microphones, performing for no one but yourselves and giggling profusely at Billie giving you the performance of a lifetime in the comfort of her own kitchen. Or perhaps it was the time she comforted you all night after a breakup, holding you closely and never letting go, her ring-clad hands petting you gently, as if you were made of glass.

Your heart had always belonged to Billie, long before you truly understood your feelings. And now that they were more apparent to you than ever, you simply didn't know what to do.

You knew Bille loved you just as much as you loved her. But did she feel the same fire within her whenever your hands brushed together? Did she feel those same butterflies whenever you laughed at a dumb joke or gave her a bright smile? You couldn't bear even just the thought of pouring your heart out to this woman only for the feeling to not be mutual.

You glanced at the time on your phone screen. It was late. You should've been sleeping but you were just riddled with anxiety instead, too busy imagining up a million hypothetical situations in which you would dramatically confess your feelings. You wish you had the same confidence you had in your daydreams in your real life.

You sighed, scrolling to the very last thing you had in your gallery. It was the most recent video of you and Billie, taken only a few weeks ago. The both of you were in Billie's living room. You couldn't stop the smile that tugged the corners of your lips when Billie came into view as you secretly recorded her in all of her casual glory. Her long hair was down, falling in front of her face in a way that made the breath leave your lungs. She was in an oversized t-shirt, wearing a pair of simple black shorts. She was very focused; her lips forming a pout as she stared down at the notebook in her lap, a pencil in hand.

What started as a small grin evolved into a wide, lovesick smile as you watched Billie look at the camera in the video, finally having caught on to you filming her.

“What the hell are you doing?” Past Billie had asked, a smirk slowly appearing on her face as she eyed you suspiciously. You heard yourself giggle, suddenly aiming your phone camera away from her and poorly trying to appear innocent.

“Nothing.”

“You are a fucking liar,” Billie said playfully, barely able to get the words out through her own series of chuckles.

“I'm not!” Past you exclaimed. Billie just shook her head, scrambling over to you to grab your phone, the both of you erupting into whole-hearted laughter. The last blurry frame of the video was of Billie's smiling face looking at you. You admired her perfect teeth and lips, the shape of her nose, and those damn ocean eyes, far more beautiful than any body of water you'd ever seen.

That familiar fluttery feeling returned to your stomach again.

You shut off your phone and quickly placed it on your bedside table. You rolled over in your bed, still thinking of that video. You were beginning to feel something in your chest. Your heart felt like it was constricting again. You tried to ignore, instead attempting to shift the focus of your thoughts on the weight of your blanket encompassing you, or the gentle sound of whatever random sitcom you had playing on your television for background noise; but your mind always wandered back to Billie. Her smile, her laugh, her touch.

You were deeply, madly in love with Billie Eilish, your best friend, and it was starting to drive you insane. This was not a crush, no, it was more than a crush – it was like a craving, a desire so strong it entirely consumed you.

You were so fucked.

You closed your eyes, desperately just wanting to sleep. You weren't even necessarily physically tired. Just tired of your brain going a thousand miles a minute and constantly thinking about her.

After a few long minutes of battling complete and utter restlessness, you had mentally exhausted yourself enough to the point where you were finally starting to drift off – until you heard your phone go off, which abruptly pulled you away from the brink of sleep. Normally, you would ignore it, but you recognized that notification tone. It was a tone that you specifically gave to Billie, and whenever she texted, you had to answer.

You opened your messaging app, squinting a bit at the brightness of your screen in the dark room.

heyyyy u up

i'm in the studio by myself

feeling lonely as hell

You heard the messages in her voice. You found yourself smiling again, imagining her in her little swivel chair, maybe playing a melody on the piano or strumming a tune on the guitar.

Without wasting a second, you replied.

you: of course i'm up

you: god you can't do anything without me huh?

You chuckled to yourself, watching those three little dots disappear and reappear.

billie: you are absolutely correct

billie: you just really inspire me what can i say

billie: i'm not even joking you really do

You ignored the warmth in your cheeks at her words, opting to play around some more.

you: ew

you: cheesy ass

To that, Billie replied almost instantly:

billie: shut your mouth

billie: ARE YOU COMINGGG

bille: seriously tho i know it's late but we haven't hung out in a while and i kinda miss youuuu or whateverrrr

You didn't respond right away, staring up at your plain white ceiling, releasing a sigh. Your smile faltered a bit.

She missed you. And you missed her. And even though being around her made you feel like you were gonna lose your mind, she didn't deserve to be pushed away.

“You are going to get over your feelings, starting now.” you said to yourself encouragingly, getting out of your bed to meet Billie at her place. You finally threw her a reply back.

you: i'm omw :))))))

______

You didn't knock when you finally arrived since you had the key, but you did make your presence known.

“Bil,” you shouted out. You didn't get a response, but you shrugged it off. She was probably deeply concentrated on whatever lyric or melody she was trying to create. You made your way to the studio, feeling your heart race inside of your chest. As you walked down the stairs and down a hallway, getting closer to the studio door, you felt more and more anxious.

You were going to open the door, your hand resting on the doorknob, but you froze when you heard the soft sound of humming. You leaned in closer, honing in on the gentle sound of Billie's voice, muffled and just barely audible.

“I want you to stay… til I'm in the…” She trailed off. You heard her let out a heavy sigh. That’s when you decided to make your presence known.

You slowly opened the door, quietly enough that Billie hadn’t even turned around in her chair, looking up at the large television screen in front of her, messing around with some music production software that you could never understand. You continued to stand in the doorway, watching as Billie made some small edits within the current song she seemed to be working on. She hit play after making some miniscule changes, the unfinished song softly playing out of the large speakers. As soon as the instrumental filled the room, you felt chills on every inch of your body; it sounded beautiful despite the fact that it wasn’t even done. You’d never get over how lucky you were to be able to hear the early versions of Billie’s songs – it was like being let into a secret world, and it made you feel special that you, alongside her family, got to witness every step of the process.

Eventually, the short snippet of the song had stopped, and Billie leaned back in her seat. Just from her posture you could tell that she seemed defeated, like something about the song just wasn’t right to her. She began humming again, mumbling out some lyrics here and there. You found yourself grinning as you admired Billie in her element, but then you remembered that you still hadn’t announced your presence and that you were just creepily ogling at her from the doorway. You audibly chuckled at yourself which, of course, finally grabbed Billie’s attention.

She spun around in her chair, seemingly startled at first before she realized it was you.

“Jesus Christ,” she started, her adorable laugh filling the quiet studio. “Did you just get here?”

You shook your head, heading over to the couch and making yourself comfortable. “I was standing there for a good few minutes.” You replied with a grin.

“Don't ever do that again – my heart fell into my ass.” She exclaimed, and you let out a loud cackle at that. You grabbed one of the throw pillows next to you and held it in your arms, reclining back into the familiar cushions.

“Okay, won't happen again. Maybe. No promises.” You joked, to which Bille just rolled her eyes playfully.

“Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?” You asked curiously, your eyes going back to the music software she had on the screen.

“The album, obviously.” Billie said with a smirk. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, not being able to fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Shut up,” you said with mirth. “Which track?”

“It's called Birds of a Feather, it's track 4. It's… pretty shit, right now.”

Your eyes widened in complete and utter bewilderment, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.

“Billie, what? I just heard the little snippet you played and it sounded incredible.”

“You say everything I make sounds incredible.”

“Because it's true.” You replied sincerely. To that, Billie gave you a gentle smile, looking down at her lap as if shy at the sudden praise. You felt the sensation of warmth throughout your body at just how endearing she was.

“All you do is gas me up.” Billie replied through a series of chuckles.

“Of course I'm gonna gas up my amazingly talented super star best friend,” You responded. “But… can I ask why you think it's bad?”

Billie sighed, leaning back in her chair again, twiddling her thumbs. “It's just… the lyrics are giving me a hard time. And the instrumental is missing something but I don't know what it is.”

“Can I read the lyrics?” You asked.

At that, Billie looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. She seemed hesitant, which was definitely unusual–she always let you read her lyrics and never felt shy about sharing stuff with you.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Bille said after a few long seconds of pondering, but you could still hear the uncertainty in her voice. Curious, your brows furrowed.

“Bil, I understand if it's something you don't wanna share with me yet–”

“No, please,” she said, quickly handing you her journal, already having opened it to the pages that contained the lyrics in question. “You can read it.”

You glanced at her expression one more time as you took the journal, and noticed that this time – she was holding back a smile, biting her bottom lip.

You were equal parts confused and eager to see what Billie seemed a little hesitant to share. You silently began reading what she had written, taking in her adorable, albeit messy handwriting. There were all kinds of scribbles on the page, certain words were crossed out. It was fascinating to you to see her thought process on the page. You loved just how deeply she thought about every word, every sentence.

Eventually, you stopped admiring her crooked letters and side notes and finally began analyzing the lyrics themselves – and when you did, you honestly wanted to cry at how lovely they were.

I want you to stay

Till I'm in the grave

Till I rot away, dead and buried

Till I'm in the casket you carry

If you go, I'm going too

‘Cause it was always you

And if I'm turning blue

Please don't save me

Nothing left to lose

Without my baby

“Billie, these are…” you paused, searching for the right words. “These are so sweet.” You said with a smile, meeting her warm blue eyes that were still trained on your face.

“Thanks.” She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

As you read some more, a question had crossed your mind. Your eyes trailed off the page as you internally debated with yourself whether or not you should even ask because you were little afraid of what the answer would be.

It was clear to you these lyrics were about someone– they had to be. And the very thought of this song being about someone else in Billie's life made you feel as if there was a heavy weight in your stomach. For a second, you foolishly thought that you'd be able to overcome the feelings you had for Billie. All it took was imagining her with someone else that made those feelings rush back all at once.

You must've been quiet for longer than intended, because Billie spoke up. “Are they actually terrible? Do you hate them and you're trying to figure out how to break it to me?” Billie asked, that playful tone creeping back into her voice.

You chuckled. “They are far from terrible, Bil, it's just…”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“I was just wondering… who's it about?” You asked, feeling unreasonably nervous about her response. You don't even know why, because you had long accepted that there was a possibility she didn't like you like that. You were prepared to be heartbroken – but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt any less.

But all Billie did was just… laugh.

“Guess.” She said, crossing her arms.

Oh, God. So there is someone else, you thought.

With a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, you said, “How the hell am I supposed to guess? But I'm happy for you, regardless.” You said, trying to be lighthearted, but your voice dropped a bit, possibly revealing your true feelings.

“Okay, do you want a hint?”

You stared at her incredulously. “You seriously want me to guess?”

“Do you want a hint or no?” Billie asked again, ignoring your question. She was smiling widely now, and you were still feeling that pang of sadness that you couldn't quite shake, but you continued to play along anyway.

“Sure. I'll take a hint.” You said.

“Okay,” Billie started. “She's my best friend in the entire world.”

“You have a lot of best friends-”

“Girl, let me finish.” Billie said with a laugh. “She's my best friend in the entire world who's known me my entire life. She's come with me to almost every show, every interview, and has supported me through everything.”

Billie had come a little closer to you now, her tone becoming more sincere with every word.

“When I'm lonely, she comes and visits me in the studio, even when it's ridiculously late. And she always compliments me and never lets me feel bad about anything I make.”

Slowly, but surely, you were beginning to realize something. Her descriptions were becoming more and more specific. Were you being delusional?

“Billie, I… what are you saying?” You asked. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, hard enough you were sure they'd be bruised.

“Still don't know?” She asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.

You shook your head.

“Okay, I'll just tell you then.”

Billie gently cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch almost instantly. She was close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips.

“She's right in front of me.” She said with a grin.

You couldn't even process the sentence that just came out of her mouth, frozen in shock and disbelief.

“This song is about me?” You asked quietly, your voice breaking slightly. You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, all of the emotion brewing within you threatening to spill.

“Do you remember the last time we hung out and you were filming me writing? I was writing this. I was writing this and thinking about you and how much I love you. I realized it as I was just… sitting there. You were laughing at some dumb meme on your phone and I just remember thinking how much I wanted you all to myself.”

You didn't realize you were crying until Billie had wiped away a tear.

“Hey, hey,” Billie said ever so softly, opting to hold both of your hands now. “Why are you crying?”

You laughed a bit through the tears, sniffling a few times before answering. “Because I… can't believe you felt this way the whole fucking time. I was going crazy, Billie.”

Billie let out a loud laugh of her own. It was your favorite sound in the world.

“Sorry. Honestly, I was trying to figure out my own feelings and how to tell you.”

“No, I'm sorry. For pushing you away.” you replied. Billie shook her head.

“Oh my god, stop. You don't have to apologize. It all worked out in the end, right?” She asked.

You smiled. “Yeah. It did.”

For several long seconds, there was a comfortable silence that stretched between the two of you. The both of you were smiling at each other, completely lost in the other's eyes. You didn't miss the way Billie's eyes glanced at your lips.

“Billie.” You spoke.

“Yeah, baby?”

The pet name made your heart soar.

“If you don't fucking kiss me right now–”

Billie didn't even let you finish your sentence, her lips colliding with your eyes in an explosion of pent up feelings and passion. She held both sides of your face in your hands, while yours snaked around her waist. You held onto her like she was gonna disappear any second and kissed her like you were starving.

The kiss started off innocent– but it quickly delved into something a bit more intense when Billie just slightly bit your lip, not enough to cause pain but enough to make you gasp. She introduced her tongue hesitantly, silently asking for your permission, which you granted without a second thought.

At some point, Billie finally got out of her swivel chair and moved to sit down on the couch with you. The two of you had pulled apart briefly for that, and when Billie was seated, her eyes were hooded and she was gazing at you like you were sex on longs. She patted her lap, and liked an obedient dog, you wasted no time crawling into her lap.

“I've dreamt about this.” You said, completely breathless and warm in the face.

“Oh, yeah?” Billie asked with a smirk that had your insides flipping upside down. “What else have you dreamt about?”

“Being able to call you mine.”

At that, Billie smiled. “That's all?”

“No, that's not all, but… I'd rather show than tell…” you trailed off, but it was obvious what you were referring to.

“We are getting out of my brother's basement, right fucking now.” Billie said.

The two of you snuck out of Finneas’ house, hand-in-hand and giggling like little kids in love.

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ YOUNG AND INNOCENT

𝝑𝝔 cw : virgin reader, daddy!minho, p in v, mentions of oral, shower sex, overall pretty vanilla!

𝝑𝝔 a/n : miss mocha @yongbun wanted me to @ her !! And also holy shat guys i'm at 900 followers??? that's so insane to me!! I love you all so much :3

It was no secret, you were Lee Know's favorite member. He was never crude to you, mostly because you were one of the only members who never annoyed him.

And you were sweet, the second youngest member in the group who without fail remembered every birthday and anniversary and planned accordingly.

And you were innocent, the fact drove him crazy.

It drove him crazy how you sang Red Lights on stage and you would get embarrassed over it, how you would walk around the dorms in the flimsiest pair of sleep shorts and camisole ever made, how you would blush and get all embarrassed when fans would call you hot or sexy.

It drove him up the walls insane, your innocence. He was patient, for the most part, unless it came to you. He was protective, especially when it came to you.

You always assumed boys never asked you out because of your looks, but little did you know it was really because Lee Know would stare down any man with romantic or sexual intentions who came within a five meter radius of you.

After years of living with men, you had become quite accustomed to seeing male anatomy. Whether it was because the leader of your group was comfortable walking around shirtless, or because you had accidentally walked in on someone in the shower a few times, you became pretty desensitized to seeing naked men.

At first it would embarrass you, but after a while it just became part of life. But these men were your friends and coworkers, so when you would see them without their shirt on honestly it just started to feel like seeing your friends in a bathing suit.

And although you had gotten used to seeing male anatomy, your group mates would gawk and stare every time you showed even the slightest bit of skin. "What are you wearing?" Seungmin gawks when he sees you in your regular pajama shorts and cropped tank top, cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie.

"Pajamas?" you retort, not knowing why exactly it would cause him to freak out.

"God, y/n," Seungmin gaffs, "you need to get laid."

You can't help the blush that creeps up onto your face, "w-what?"

"You heard me!" Seungmin persists, "listen, I'm not trying to be rude but you're the only member of the team who is still a virgin."

"So?" you cross your arms, "why is that such a bad thing? And what does this have to do with my pajamas!"

"Because you're twenty-something-years-old and you've never had your first kiss," he explains, "listen, we need to find you a boyfriend or something, only your boyfriend should see you in those kinds of pajamas, half your ass is practically hanging out!"

"I d-don't need a boyfriend," you huff, turning away from him, refocusing on the television.

"Then what is stopping you from y'know getting some?" Seungmin poses.

"W-well g-guys aren't really that y'know, into me?"

"Oh bullshit, I could set you up with someone, one of my friends," Seungmin proposes, "only if you want to."

"I-I mean y-yeah that's fine," you can't help but stutter.

"Good, I'll give him your phone number," Seungmin promises.

You couldn't help but get excited with the idea of going out with a boy. A thought that terrified you as much as it exhilarated you. "Pixie?" you call out to the boy who is currently playing League of Legends on his PC, the glow of his pink and purple LED lights illuminating his features as his fingers rapidly click against the keyboard.

"Hm," his head shoots up, looking to where you stood in his doorway, "hey, what's up?"

"I need to talk to you, and I hoped it would stay between us?"

"O-oh okay, yeah come in, shut the door," he says, he watches you flop down on his bed after shutting his door, "so what's wrong?"

"Okay well Seungmin is setting me up with one of his friends and I d'know - I'm just really awkward, I don't know how to talk to guys, like at all, and I d'know what to do," you confess to the blonde freckled boy who is swivelling around in his gaming chair that you bought him for Christmas, his right leg bouncing up and down.

"You're good at talking to me, how different can another guy be?"

"Pixie, you know it's different," you huff, sitting up, "please, I just need your help."

"Maybe you should go to Chan, or maybe Minho, I think they could help you more," Felix tells you, "but I think you should just y'know, be yourself, you're pretty and you've got a good personality and any guy worth anything is gonna see that."

"But w-what ab-about s-" you pause, hiding your face in your hands,"sex."

"What about it?"

"Well I haven't y'know?"

"Trust me, that much is obvious," Felix teases, "but really, most guys don't care much about virginity, some guys even find it hot when girls are still virgins, they get off on the fact that they're a girl's first," he informs you, you're hands moving away from your face, staring at him, "I know you may think that's weird, but it's the truth."

"But I don't know what to do."

"That's fine, some guys also find that hot, like with blowjobs you just need to make sure you take it slow at first, get used to it, then after that speed up, and don't be afraid to take deep breaths and breaks. And as far as sex goes the guy is mostly the one doing the work, you just lay back and relax," Felix explains, "unless you're riding him, but I wouldn't recommend doing that during your first time. Sex isn't that scary y/n, just think of it as two people just wanting to help the other feel good."

"T-thank you Lix," you smile at the boy, "t-that helped me feel a bit better."

"Anytime," he smiles that pretty smile of his, "oh, later do you want to get dinner with Jeongin and me?"

"Oh, no thanks, Minho is making me dinner tonight," you smile, you stand up from his bed and walk to the door, "thank you Lix, I owe you."

"Don't mention it," Lix smiles, refocusing on his monitor.

You were going to lose your virginity, you were dead set on it. And that was truly terrifying, but you tried to ignore that feeling of fear that pooled in your abdomen. It was just sex. At least that's what Felix said.

"Hi hi," Minho greets you when you walk into the kitchen, he was standing over a pot of water on the stove waiting for it to boil.

"Hi Min," you hum, taking a seat on the couch, "so what are you making? Do you need any help?"

"We have the rule to not let you in the kitchen for a reason, but thank you for the thought, I'm making your favorite," he says it like it isn't a truly heart warming gesture.

"Thank you Minho," you thank him.

"Mhm," he simply hums, refocusing on the stove, "so what was your day like? Do anything interesting?"

The words leave your mouth before you can even register what you're saying, "virginity."

This makes Minho's face turn to look at you, his eyebrows knit together with a look of utter confusion, "virginity?" he questions.

You hide your face in your hands, a rosy blush on your face, "y-yeah," you squeak, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity," you confess.

"Like today?"

"W-well no, but someday soon," you inform him, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity."

That was not okay for Minho, not at all, but you couldn't know that, you sounded scared enough. And that was when Minho got the best worst idea he has ever had. You could lose your virginity to him.

"Who is going to take your virginity?" he asks.

"Well I haven't exactly worked t-that part out yet," you confide, "but to someone, someone soon."

"It should be someone you trust," Minho advises you, "it shouldn't just be a random hookup, maybe it should be a friend, someone you already know, in a no strings attached kind of way."

"Maybe you're right," you ponder for a moment before shooting your head up, "do you think Felix would have sex with me?"

Minho can't help but choke on pure air, doubling over, "e-excuse me?"

"Minho! I'm being serious!" you whine, "Felix is my best friend an-and I trust him!"

Minho eventually regains his composure, "you shouldn't fuck your best friend, that always ends up messy."

"You're right," you agree, another idea coming to your mind, "I should ask Chan if he'll have sex with me."

"That's also a terrible idea, did you forget that he's already seeing someone?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, fuck," you groan, "what should I do, because if I don't lose it to someone else, I'll end up losing it to one of Kim Seungmin's friends."

"You could just fuck me," Minho proposes.

You can't help the way your jaw practically hits the fucking floor, "wh-what? You'd do that- w-well technically me?"

"I mean yeah, you're my friend, and I just want what's best for you," he reassures you of his intentions, "I'll teach you everything you want to know."

"Oh, well when c-can we?" you watch as he adds the noodles to the boiling water, "you know-"

"How about tonight? If you want to, I'm in no rush, you can choose when and where," he cuts you off.

"Tonight," you affirm, "tonight."

"Okay, tonight," Minho agrees, "you decide what we're doing."

"I want you to decide," you confess, "I just want this to be nice and y'know intimate?"

"Okay," Minho hums, moving to strain the water after the noodles had boiled for their needed time.

Minho eats with you, and cleans up the mess afterwards, you were on edge the whole time, not knowing what to do or what to expect. Practically vibrating with nerves and excitement all mixed into one.

"Y/n," Minho calls out to you.

You practically jump out of your chair, looking up at the man, "listen, you need to relax, let's take a shower," he proposes.

"O-okay," you agree.

You follow him into you and his shared bathroom, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin having their own bathroom. Minho was the first one to completely strip and that's when you saw it. His cock. That big thing was supposed to fit in you, there was no fucking way.

"Minho th-y-your cock," you gawk, if it looked this big and this intimidating like this you could only imagine what it looked like when he was actually hard.

"Don't worry," he grins, "I'll get you nice and prepped before I put it in."

His cock was nothing to joke about, big and fat with a slight curve, so meaty and girthy it was intimidating just to look at and he wasn't even hard yet.

Minho watches as you strip your clothes off, and you search his face for a reaction to your nudeness, you get one, "no wonder you have so many fanboys and fangirls," Minho grins.

He's offering you a hand, which you take, now standing under the water of the shower with him, becoming soaked from head to toe. He is quick to sink to his knees and start lapping at your cunt until you're painting his face with your cum before he's holding you still, making you give him another orgasm.

It hurts when he puts it in, you're whining and whimpering and falling apart, feeling like you're being ripped open by his fat length. He's gentle with you though, holding you delicately, kissing the back of your neck, stilling inside you and letting you adjust to his length.

"Jagi, that's only the tip," he hums, rubbing soft circles on your hips, "tell me when I can move, jagi."

It takes a few minutes before you're comfortable with him moving even more, but eventually you give him the go ahead. You're having to bite down on your tongue so you don't scream, "there you go, kitty cat, bigggg stretch," Minho coos, his hips stilling, "there now you're halfway done."

Your legs feel so wobbly like they could give out as Minho takes your virginity in the shower, "Min-daddy please move!" you gulp.

"Oh, I'm going to ruin you," Minho groans, pushing his cock in until his fat mushroom tip is pressed against your cervix, "gonna stretch you out all good and nice, no other cock is gonna fill you up quite right."

"Daddy!" you're practically screaming when he starts moving.

He's slow and delicate with you, taking his time, savoring every stroke in your tight virgin cunt. It hurt, it hurt so fucking good. You felt the ripples of pleasure shooting down your spine, the sound of skin slapping on skin being all that resonated around the shower room. "Oh my fucking God!" you yelp when his cock presses against that spongy spot inside you over and over and over again.

His cock has you seeing stars, and you're thoroughly convinced this is the best you've ever felt. No wonder people always talked about sex when it felt like this.

With every thrust of his hips he's bringing you closer and closer making you feel hotter and hotter. Your body is writhing around, he keeps a firm grasp on you, holding you still for him. "Atta girl," he hums, "you're taking my cock so well, jagi, like your little cunt was made for it."

"Daddy!" you're basically wailing, tears of pleasure streaming down your face, it just feels oh so good, you never want it to end.

When his hand wraps around your body to rub rub rub your clit you're doubling over, pleasure racking your body.

And that's when the band building up in your stomach finally snaps. Glancing down to watch the stream of clear liquid drip out of your pussy onto the tile of the shower. "Daddy!" you whimper over and over as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"That's it, jagi," Minho groans his cock slipping out of you before you feel hot ropes of his cum painting your ass followed by Minho's groans.

"Minho-" you whine.

"Oh, jagi," Minho is mumbling before he's turning you around and pulling you close to him, "I think I'll have to keep you, your cunt is just too sweet," he plants a kiss on your hairline as water from the shower hits your back.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Sergei Kravinoff x fem!reader

Summary: After being taken by his father, you find comfort in each other in an unconventional way.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: rough quickie sex, dom!sergei, sub!reader, unprotected sex, penetration, riding, no foreplay, passionate, degradation, praise, reader cries, pain kink kinda? spanking, scratching, bleeding, blood, violence, insecurities, break down.

~ thank you @princesssunderworld for all the wonderful prompts as always!! hope you like this! ~

SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST

His dad had crossed a line this time.

Sergei's dealt with so much bullshit from his dad as a kid and a teenager but this—capturing you? Hurting you? The one thing in his life that actually made sense? It was too much. His dad had crossed a line.

He didn't have any hesitation when he found the van, using all his strength to rip the driver in half. 

Literally. 

He could kill his father for this. He thinks he will. It wasn't helping that with every bullet that grazes his skin, he just becomes angrier. He throws one of the men to the side, snarling like an animal as his shoulders rise and fall rapidly.

That's when he sees you, curled up in the corner of the van, a chain bound to your ankle as you stare at him.  

"Малышка (Babygirl)," he grumbles, his voice husky and thick as he halts his movements. He drops the man he'd had in a chokehold. Sergei's body aches as blood drips down his arms and seeps through his shirt from the multiple bullet grazes and wounds. He stalks closer and when he sees you visibly flinch, his heart shatters. 

Luckily for anyone involved, you aren't hurt in significant any way just shaken up. His father hadn't gotten far with his plan, considering Sergei had found you almost immediately after he learned of your disappearance. 

You don't talk for a few hours as you're simply huddled on one of the armchairs in your shared living room, a warm blanket draped across thighs and a glass of Kissel, your favorite Russian drink Sergei makes so well, sits in your lap.

It isn't until your boyfriend finally walks in from the bathroom, shirtless and still dripping blood, that you snap into reality. He's grunting as he wraps a bandage around his arm, sitting down on the second armchair, and spreading his legs automatically. He sinks down and shuts his eyes, unaware of your disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. 

"You never take care of yourself," you whisper, causing him to open his eyes again and meet your gaze. You've come back and now you're examining the bruises on his hands. He yanks them away from you.

"Sit down, Y/n. You're hurt," he says harshly, shifting and then groaning in pain once more. 

You frown. It almost feels like all those walls you'd broken down over the last year had instantly built themselves back up, even stronger this time. Your heart sinks. You have minimal aches, mostly from the chains, and he's sitting here bleeding from bullet wounds and he insists you're the one who is hurt?

"Sergei," you whisper and lean over him, trying to see the new wounds mixed in with the old scars. "Please let me clean you up. You're hurt, not me," you say and bend over to dip some cotton balls in rubbing alcohol you'd found in the bathroom.

He stares at you, his eyes dark as you lean over and clean the blood from his face and his torso. He keeps grunting, thesounds deep from inside him. He isn't hissing in pain. No, he's grunting in anger, making almost animalistic sounds that cause a burning in your stomach.

You don't know how to help him when he's like this so you do the next best thing you can think of — you fall to your knees in front of him, your hands resting on his thighs.

"Stop," he warns as soon as he sees you do this, shaking his head. "Stand up."

You feel desperate as you run your hands up and down his jeans. 

"Малышка (Babygirl)," another warning, but this time he's leaning closer and grabbing your chin in his rough hand, squeezing. "You think dropping to your knees like a whore is going to make all this okay again? Make this normal? You could have died. I could have lost you," his voice wavers and he shuts his eyes, his chest heaves as he drops your chin and leans back.

"Stand up. Now," he orders again.

"I wanna make you feel better. You saved me," you say, reaching for the thick leather belt of his jeans, and that's when Sergei snaps.

His hand tightens in your hair suddenly, pulling you onto his lap as the dress you'd worn from last night, when his dad's men had taken you, still hugs your frame and the straps fall from your shoulders.

Sergei groans and grips your hips.

"You want me to fill you up? Is that what you want?" he accuses, unzipping his jeans in a frenzy now. He's achingly hard and he knows he shouldn't be but in his defense, all his emotions have had to build up somewhere. Your mind is fuzzy from desperate want and you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands become rougher on your skin.

You moan, feeling his hard cock underneath your ass. 

"You fuckin' slut," he grunts, dipping his hand underneath you, pulling aside your panties as he snaps them. He checks you. He wants to make sure you're wet so he won't hurt you. As much as he needs this and he wants to use you until you're a broken mess, it won't be fun for him if you're crying for all the wrong reasons. 

He grins and nips at your neck. "Your pussy is drenched, шлюха (whore)."

You whimper against his shoulder he sinks into you without any prior warning, his hands rough as he squeezes your ass and spanks you a few times. You bounce on him, your dress riding up your thighs as it bunches up at your hips, panties torn on the floor, as your eyes water.

It's overwhelming in the best way. Your pussy clenches around him, gripping his cock as his groans turn into moans.

"Shit, Sergei, please," you gasp as he fucks into you, his rhythm faster and harder than yours. You try and keep up. You cry out as he uses you, tears fall down your cheeks, and the room around you spins. Your eyes flutter. Your head drops onto his shoulders, your breathing becomes harder as he ruts into you.

"Черт, я люблю тебя. Я чертовски сильно люблю тебя, детка. (Fuck, I love you. I love you so damn much, baby)" he groans in your ear, chasing his high as his hands tighten on your skin and he presses harsh kisses on your cheeks to keep you staring up at him with that broken look in your eyes. You're making small whines from being unable to understand him when he speaks Russian and because he's making you feel so good. "Always so obedient, so willing to please me."

"Mhm, please," you groan, needing him. "Please, Sergei," you sob his name, clenching around him. "Can I come now? Need to come," you whimper. 

"No," he growls and you sob harder. He's enjoying your pain, relishing in your whines as you lose yourself in him. His movements become harsher, almost bruising as he takes you just the way he wants. 

"Please," your voice sounds weak and your moans have turned more painful. He hears the crying but he's too lost in his haze to stop now as he shakes his head and his nails dig into your skin.

"No." 

You squeal when he thrusts particularly hard and with a small, shit, he's coming inside you, spilling himself to the brim as his body tightens. You're whining, small lines of blood trickling from your arms where he'd scratched you as you follow his orgasm, experiencing yours as well even without his permission.

Sergei is panting now, his eyes bleary as he removes his hand from your skin, his palms tainted in your blood. His eyes widen as some control returns and he pushes away from you much too violently, causing a his of pain as that emptiness overwhelms you and you look at him with tear stained cheeks.  

"Дорогой (Sweetheart)," he whispers and reaches for you after he tucks himself back into his jeans, stumbling back when he sees the mess he'd made of you. He falls to his knees, all these sensations he's feeling finally overwhelm him and he sobs quickly, his head bent to the floor. 

Your heart clenches at the sight. Your legs feel shaky and you wince from your soreness as you walk over to him. You hate seeing him like this; so broken.

You adjust your dress and wipe your tears as you kneel beside him. "Baby," you whisper, "hey."

He flinches as looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and he shakes his head. "Run. Run away from me, love, please," his hoarse voice sounds shaky as his eyes flicker to your arm and he sees the blood again. He clenches his jaw.

"It's only a scratch," you tell him honestly and wipe the blood away, showing him that he didn't leave any permanent scars. You reach for him and take him into your arms. Surprisingly, he lets you, and his arms wrap around your waist, holding you close as his sobs shake your body. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry they took you," Sergei says, eyes softer than you've ever seen them. "You're so goddamn precious to me and–and goddamnit, I hurt you too— I'm just as bad as them." He holds you closer and sobs into your shoulder. "I'm a monster."

You shake your head and hold your hand in his hair, sinking further onto your heels as his weight overwhelms you. "No, no, you are not a monster. And you didn't hurt me. I'm okay. I promise. Sergei, I I love you," you say honestly.

He pulls away and cups your cheek so gently his touch is almost non-existent. "I love you too, Малышка (Babygirl), more than I've ever loved anyone." His hand smoothes down to the scratch marks he'd made in the heat of the passion and he bends down to kiss them better.

"My good girl," he breathes, relaxing a little, "even when she comes without permission."    

He looks up and holds your chin in his hand. "I mean what I said. You should run away from me, Y/n. Run so far and never look back. I need that for you, but even more, I want you to stay with me," he swallows thickly and after a pause he says, "Please. Don't leave me." 

Your stomach flutters at his words and you nod. "I won't leave you, Sergei. Never."

He growls that familiar animalistic growl and kisses your lips so gently, holding you in his arms as he vows to himself he'll keep you safe. 

Always.

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Naruto boys random headcanons──☆*:・ﾟ

Sfw

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

Hes lazy at home. Not because he’s tired he just wants you to take care of him, but when you call him a baby for all these requests he gets mad “I AM NOT A BABY! I AM A GROWN MAN! NOW SPOON FEED ME!”

He tries to prank you but fails, your too smart to fall for it. He always tries to trip you in public while walking and every time he is the one on the floor and your the one laughing some how-

He likes the idea of drawing and being an artist he just can’t draw. He can only draw stick people with different hair, one time he tried to draw you, gave up and instead gave you a picture of a stick person with your hair. It’s now on the fridge LOL

He tries to act cool around his friend with you but just makes a fool of himself. “Yeah this my bae so what?” “Yeah I’m his bae and he’s my baby, my big, soft, smiley baby!” His soul is now crushed and his friends all laughing

He sleeps like a ANIMAL. he full on can’t sleep normally, You both go to bed the same time, one of you is always gunna wake up on the floor, mostly you. Then he wakes up like “why you on the floor?”

Sasuke🗡️-*

He may seem cool but he gets very flustered. He doesn’t cover his face though he just closes his eyes so he doesn’t get more flustered and so he can ignore the fact that he is red

He CANT Dance, don’t EVER take him dancing. It’s not because he’s bad at dancing he just never learn. If there is music he will bop his head to the beat though, if you try to get him to dance he will freak out and freeze. He just doesn’t like it ok!

His waist is weirdly sensitive, you could barely touch his waist and he will start giggling. He isn’t ticklish anywhere else but if you take a feather to his waist he will start LAUGHING

He will kick your feet when he wants attention. If you guys are out to dinner with friends he will kick you under the table to get your attention, he thinks it’s funny until you fight back and stomp on his foot. He made you kiss his pain away at home, atleast he got attention LOL

He forgets the silliest things one time he forgot how to tie a knot so anything he needs to tie like his clothes or shoes you had to do for him. You don’t know if he actually forgot or if he just wanted to be babied-

Itachi🥀-*

He can’t handle heatwaves. If it’s over 90 degrees he’s gone for. One time you woke up on a heat wave morning waiting for him to wake up and walk out but he never did, you went to find him and he was in bed, sprawled out, shirt and covers off soaked in sweat. You had to rub ice on him to get him conscious -

Unlike naruto, he likes drawing and can ACTUALLY DRAW, although he can only draw plants but he doesn’t mind he likes plants! He will draw you flowers instead of buying you some which is like equally as cute~

He has very sensitive eyes. Like how he can’t handle heat he cant handle the sun either. If it isn’t cloudy he will have to squint to keep his eyes from hurting. When you told him to wear sun glasses he said “I still want to see you clearly though love…”

He’s not a big fan of skin care but he likes those face roller things. He bought one just so you could use it on him, he likes that it’s cold but also massaging!

He sneezes like a girl- he has the cutest, most petite sneeze you’ve ever heard out of a man which is cute and very funny. He doesn’t even realize it either “a-choo!” “That was crazy out of character” “huh?”

Kakashi🍃-*

He’s allergic to cats, he likes cats sure but he never hangs around them because he’s allergic. You didn’t know that and one day you brought a stray inside and he instantly turned puffy (poor thing)

Once he gets home and discards the mask he puts lip tint on. He has pink lips for that reason. When he first puts it on he will find you and kiss you just to leave a mark before waiting 10 minutes then whipping it off

He needs reading glasses but never uses them, then complains to you when he gets a headache as if you didn’t tell him to put them on

He takes a lot of baths. If he showers it bound to end up a bath. And he doesn’t care if your using the bathroom if he wants a bath he’s gunna make a god Danm bath. One time You were just washing your face and he busted in the door and ran to the bathtub, You washed your face as fast as you could-

He is EXTREMELY tired when he first wakes up, he doesn’t move for like 20 minutes so if he needs to get up and do stuff your gunna have to make him, like actually you’ll have the carry him out of bed.

Kiba🐺-*

He bites his nails from stress so you have made it a habit to smack his hand away when he does. It worked since all you have to do is tap him softly and he will stop. He’s so glad you help him get over bad habits

He decorated akamarus ears when he’s bored, one time you walk in on him giggling like a little girl and akamarus ears were pulled together in a little ponytail! You joined in on the fun🤞

He comes back from a casual walk along a complete mess, you have no idea how but one day he came back with half a bush stuck on his leg. He always cleans up though!

He sometimes transforms akamaru into himself to prank his friends or you, mostly you. One time akamaru came up to you as Kiba and started licking your face “EW OH MY GOD?!” “AUUFF AUF!” “KIBA YOUR NOT FUNNY”

He always has tan cheeks and nose. Compared to the rest of his face, his cheeks are cute and golden!

Shikamaru🀄️-*

He lets you win at intelligents based games to make you feel better. Except one time he actually tried and lost. He’s convinced you cheated

His hair is straight but gets very frizzy if not cared for. (You care for it since he’s lazyy)

He draws on himself when bored, mostly just trippy designs like swirls and stuff. Will also let you draw on him, only if your good tho he doesn’t want “bad drawing” on him😔

He has a box FULL of hair ties and will notice if you take one. “This one you literally stole from me?” “Don’t care put it back!!!”

He gets Freezingly cold at night, like really really cold. When he snuggles up to you to warm up you could feel how cold he really is and you don’t understand how since you are both under covers-

Shino🪲-*

He keeps bugs in the house so they can watch over anything, they are basically his security cameras-

His hair is so cute and wavy! Also gets very frizzy because of the texture like Shika. He also makes you take care of it, he just really likes you touching his hair

He gives you bugs as gifts, not like freaky beetles but cute little bugs like lady bugs or fuzzy green caterpillars. You find it cute that he gives you things that mean so much to him

He shockingly has a sensitive neck, only to you though. Bugs can crawl all over it and he doesn’t move but if you try to kiss it he gets chills. Also shockingly he has really soft skin idk maybe he sheds skin (IM JOKING)

When he gets home and can finally undress he lets you take his glasses off since you love his eyes and he loves that you love them. He gets insecure about it sometimes!

Neji🎋-*

He speak really highly and intelligently but he’s honestly a little dumb sometimes, or maybe he’s just dumb with you to be silly we don’t know

The only jewelry he really wears is an ankle bracelet you got him

He loves hair charms, he likes decorating his hair! He likes putting clips and braids in it, sometimes even put color streaks in it if he wants to be festive

He really likes pottery and making things out of clay, he’s very creative and he finds clay the perfect outlet. He even makes pots for you!

He has a flower garden that NO ONE is allowed in. He treats them like they’re his baby’s, because they are! He’s favorite plant he has is his cactuses.

Lee🥋-*

He’s extremely energetic and powerful yet he has asthma, he denies it. But if it’s really hot outside he runs out of breath REALLY fast which makes you worry

He’s scared of spiders you kill the spiders for him or he runs! If you trap a spider and chase him with it he will almost start crying (he will start crying) he’s ashamed to admit spiders are his weakness

He wears mascara, he gotta make them lashes voluminous yk. He stole his mascara from tenten too. You made him give it back to her and bought him his own

It’s pretty obvious but he is FLEXIBLE! Backbend, splits anything he can do. You thought he broke his spine onces-

He’s not much of a plant guy but he has the TINIEST succulent in your room that he cares for, every other plant he has had died but not that one~

Choji🍥-*

He loves finger painting and is actually really good at it, you’d think it was made by a professional and an actual paint brush but no it was Choji and his finger paint😭

His hair is so thick most hair ties he uses break. He has to use hair needles instead because it’s the only thing that holds if he wants his hair up for a while

He thinks pillow fights are actually entertaining he could have a pillow fight with you all day and never get bored. He goes crazy if he’s over at someone’s house and they suggest pillow fights!

He loves bath bombs!!! He basically died when you run him a bath and put bath bombs in it, his favorite scent it lavender. Even if you didn’t add a bath bomb he loves when you make him baths he thinks its adorable

He paints your cheeks like his in your sleep, that’s his idea of a prank even though it’s basically him just being a cutie “look now your like me y/n!!”

Gaara⏳-*

He turns the black rings around his eyes to cat eyes sometimes. He looks ADORABLE with cat eyes. He sometimes even uses eye shadow too, if he can’t change it he thought might as well make it look cutee

He’s scared of mosquitos, he just doesn’t like bugs that can fly and go after human blood it freaks him out

He wears one of those scent bracelets and puts your signature scent in it so he always smells like you~

He gifts you plants all the time

He collect the silliest things, there are these cute little cat charms at a near by store and he’s working on collecting them all!

Kankuro🪆-*

Shockingly he really likes reading. He likes fiction books the most, he asks you for suggestions

He asks you what new make up design he should try, sometimes he just gives you the brush and lets you go wild. But you always make him look cute~

He fidgets with the ears on his hat when he’s bored. It rubbed off on you so now if he’s around you with his hat on you start messing with them-

He steals your clothes and hides them so you have no choice but to ask to use his for the day. After the day is over he comes up to you smiling and hands you your missing clothes “found em!” “By found em do you mean took them out of the hiding spot?” “Yeah-”

He paints his nails either black, pink or purple. He also lets you paint them, it honestly just ends up a mess. He would totally whip nail polishes on your nose~

[risuola]

THANK YOU, MOM — F. READER x MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, who calls you mom for the first time

Megumi was used to handle things on his own, taking care of himself and barely asked for help, but this time he couldn’t deal with the damage alone and you were the first person he thought about.

cw: fluff, brief description of an injury, blood; reader is Satoru Gojo's wife — 1k words

a/n: I rarely write for Megumi in a sense of romantic topics, but I absolutely a d o r e the concept of him being Gojo's son. sorry not sorry, I'm in a desperate need for some fluffs

Happiness. A state, that psychologists define as a subjective well-being that a person experience. Happiness is as fickle as the wind. It comes and goes, sometimes in a rush of joy and sometimes in a lull of melancholy. Sometimes it’s as simple as a hot cup of coffee or a kind word from a stranger, but true happiness is a feeling that you couldn’t describe, even if you’d try. The warm, comforting sensation in the pit of your stomach, as if everything in the world was right where it should be.

Up until that point, you thought you were in that specific state many times. When Satoru asked for your hand, you were happy. You’re almost ecstatic every time you see your students’ successes. You tend to be overjoyed by the littlest things and if anyone asked you if you ever felt happiness, you’d most likely say yes.

But that day you realized that you never had a chance to experience the true, heart-clenching, tear inducing happiness before. Though you had shed some tears when at the altar you were staring into those beautiful blue eyes of your now husband, but not even once before you had an urge to ugly cry because you were so happy. Not before Megumi called you mom.

It happened in the privacy of your home, late into the night, when after a mission particularly roughed him up, he showed up at your doorstep late at night. Once you swung the door open, the sight of his bloodied uniform and the red gushing out of a wound on the side of his stomach made you forget how to breathe, your heart skipped a beat and time seemed to fade away. Quickly you led him inside onto the couch and gathered supplies to aid him. He should go to Shoko, both of you knew it, but you were also able to use reversed curse technique to some extent.

“What happened?” You asked him, carefully taking off his uniform jacket and lifting his shirt to assess the damage. You knew he’ll make it, you knew you won’t let him go, and yet you felt the terror inside your veins when his pale skin was right in front of your eyes, stained in fresh blood.

“Just a scratch,” he mumbled, his voice was out of breath, it was saturated in pain that you knew he tried to hide with the soft shrug he did. “A curse was stronger than it was supposed to be, and uh…”

You were going to confront Satoru with that information. It wouldn’t be the first time he pushed his own mission onto his students. Tough love, as he used to call it, learning through challenge and it worked, mostly, but seeing your boy struggling still made your heart clench and your eyes swell with tears.

Megumi was used to handle things on his own, taking care of himself and barely asked for help, but this time he couldn’t deal with the damage alone and you were the first person he thought about. He had always thought of you as the strongest person he knew, even though you were a wife to Satoru Gojo, but to Megumi, it was you who had given him the closest thing he had ever had to a parent. He felt small and vulnerable, heavy underneath your gaze so full of love and concern that and at the same time, light as a feather because somehow, your soft voice and caring hands had the ability to take the weight of any burden off his shoulders. He sat still while your cursed energy was healing his injuries, silently admiring the effort and compassion.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you sighed once the adrenaline in your system began to wear off. Megumi was fine. Injured, but fine, nothing threatened his life anymore. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

“I’m okay,” he reassured, leaning his head back. The blood loss was getting to him, he was paler than usually, his forehead covered in sweat and he was panting slightly. Once done with the wound, you cleaned the blood as much as you could and quickly grabbed a clean, wet towel, a fresh t-shirt from Satoru’s closet and a blanket.

Sitting next to the boy, you pulled him gently onto yourself so he could lean against your chest, with the compress on his head and a cover over his body to keep him warm. Only then, feeling the steady beat of your heart and the warmth around him, he began to relax.

That was something Megumi remembered from his youngest years. When Satoru took him and his sister underneath his wing, you were there also and as much as Gojo had no paternal instincts towards them, you were always full of love. Countless times he was falling asleep cuddled to you, you were the safest place on earth for him and even now, as he’s already almost an adult, your embrace is something he’s always happy to come back to. Though he wouldn’t say it out loud, of course. But now, he could feel his body releasing the tension, his fight-or-flight mode slowly turning off because there was no need for him to stay alarmed when you were next to him. When your arms were around him, protecting him from the world itself. And hence why his mouth formulated these words without him thinking much of it.

“Thank you, mom.” Oh. The word left his mouth despite the fear he felt. Megumi had always been afraid to call you his mother, even though he thought of you as such. He was worried it would feel too close, too intimate and though he wished to let you know how much you meant to him, he was worried you’ll get angry. He realized what he said when it was already too late. “I’m s-sorr—”

“Don’t thank me, Megumi,” you cut his apologies, gently tightening the hug. You couldn’t describe the way you felt in this moment. It was such a simple thing, but it meant everything to you. That had to be the real happiness. “I'm always here for you, whenever you need me. And I love you too, you know?”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Midnight Rain

Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night to a storm raging outside, you find Javi outside on the porch, deciding to have him right then and there.

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Rating: E

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: oblivious idiots, mentions of divorced reader, reader in her mid thirties, smoking (both Javi and reader), alcohol, thunder storms, smut (unprotected sex, semi public sex), kissing, one ass slap, dirty talk, the word slut is used, some fluff at the end

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Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist

You couldn’t sleep.

Well, you couldn’t fall back asleep. 

When you got back to the ranch earlier that evening you had eaten a sandwich, taken a shower and fallen asleep as soon as your head had fallen against your pillow. 

It had been a long day of taking care of all the horses and making sure the barn was secured for the night. 

The heavy rain outside must have woken you up, the storm that had been forecasted for earlier that day now raging outside. You sat yourself up on your tiny single bed, parting the curtains so you could look into the darkness outside. 

Sometimes, when you were sitting in the small room Chucho Peña had provided you after you had shown up on his ranch out of the blue, asking if he needed any help with the animals you asked yourself how your life had ended up like this.

In your mid thirties, divorced, without any money, working as a ranch hand (though you were more of a all around hand, mostly tasked with taking care of the house, food and garden).

Chucho had seen something in you and he had quickly become the father you never had. 

And then his son Javier had come home. 

It was instant, at least for you, the attraction you felt towards him. 

He was tall, dark and handsome and there was something in his eyes familiar to you. It was the same hurt you saw in yours every time you looked into the mirror. 

And it took a while for him to warm up to you, the past years he had spent in Colombia haunting his every thought.

Getting used to that strange woman that was now living in his childhood home, laughing with his father in the kitchen. 

The woman that was sleeping in the tiny guest bedroom next to his childhood bedroom that he lived in yet again, because he had not idea what to do with his life. 

The woman he fucked for the first time after a fourth of July celebration almost two years ago, fireworks going off while he was balls deep inside of you on the backseat of his truck in the parking lot of the already closed gas station he had stopped at on your way home. 

You hadn’t really stopped since then. 

For more than two years you had been sleeping with Javier whenever you both felt like it. 

But that was all it was. 

Sex. 

Because you both weren’t ready for more. Or to name these… feelings you had whenever you were in each other’s arms. 

Thunder outside made you jump on the bed and you grabbed one of Javier’s flannel shirts you had stolen the week before, pulling it over your naked body. 

You would tell him you were scared of thunder when he would wake up to you in his bed the next morning. 

Because you could not tell him that the only way you found yourself sleeping lately, was in his arms. 

Not yet.

He did not hear you as you opened the door, the heavy rain continuing to fall. 

You had looked for him in his room, finding the bed still made. But there was a light on in the kitchen so you followed you intuition, finding him outside. 

Javier was sitting in the far left corner of the porch, legs spread wide, a cigarette between his fingers, a tumbler of what would probably be whiskey in his other hand. 

He was only wearing some sweatpants, the very same sweatpants that would make you forget what you wanted to say mid sentence when he had them on, or more like what was hiding beneath them. 

You let the door fall shut behind you and he looked up, those dark brown eyes wandering up from your feet all over your body towards your eyes before he looked away again, bringing his cigarette back to his lips, inhaling the smoke deeply. 

You both just stared out, the rain seemingly getting heavier before you heard him set his glass down on the ground. He spread his legs wider and you bit your lip before you slowly walked over to him, stopping as you stood between his legs for only a moment, before you climbed into his lap, the hand that had been holding his glass moments ago, coming down to rest on your ass immediately, making you shiver. 

You reached for the cigarette between his lips, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion until you slipped it between yours so you could take a puff, his eyes softening in amusement. You felt his other hand slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing the underside of your tits. 

„Was wondering where this shirt went,“ he hummed and your lips twitched into a small smile as you took another puff of his cigarette before you threw it outside into the rain. He was about to complain when you crossed your arms behind his neck and brought you lips against his, his mouth opening against your as you exhaled the smoke from your lungs. 

Closing your eyes as he kissed you, you brought one hand up to slip through his hair while his hands both now rested on your ass, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer against him, his hips thrusting up against yours, his cock hardening beneath you. 

He spread your cheeks before one of his hands slipped further down and you felt him chuckle against you.

„No panties and a half buttoned shirt. What a little slut you are,“ he said, his voice hoarse and you gasped when you felt two of his fingers enter you, your slick coating your his fingers as he played with you. 

„Says Mr. No shirt and no boxers, sitting outside with his legs spread like a who…. Fuck Javi right there,“ you moaned, biting your lip as he moved his fingers inside of you.

„Right there?“ He asked with a smirk and you nodded, looking down at him as you arched your back. 

„Touched myself but couldn’t… fuck… couldn’t finish. Needed, needed…“ you whimpered.

„Your pussy needed me, huh?“ He teased and you whined. 

He made quick work of the few buttons that kept his shirt on you, his lips closing around one of your nipples, as soon as he had slipped his shirt down your shoulders, revealing your naked chest to him. 

„Javi… Please…“ you moaned, one of your hands on his shoulders, holding on while your other hand was still in his hair, now pulling him against your tits as he sucked on one of them. 

„What do you need, princess?“ He mumbled. 

„Need your cock. Wanna cum on your cock. Please,“ you begged and you felt his teeth pull at you nipple, making you hiss before he let go. His dark eyes looked up at you, before his fingers pulled out of you and he pushed his sweatpants down just so he could release his cock. 

Before he could do anything you had him lined up with you and slowly sank down on him, both of you releasing a long moan. 

Lightening made you jump before you sank down on his cock completely and Javier hissed, his arms coming around you to pull you closer, both of you breathing heavily before you both laughed. 

„Maybe we should take this inside,“ he said as he looked up at you, one of his hands brushing up and down your spine. You shook your head before you brushed your lips against his. 

„No. I want you just like this,“ you whispered against his lips before you began to move your hips. He hummed, his hand now on the back of your head, pulling you against his lips so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips to part them. 

You rode him slowly. 

One arm wrapped around his shoulders while your other hand rested on his chest. 

Javi’s hand was on your ass, guiding the way you moved on top of him while his lips kissed whatever part of your skin he could reach. 

The rain and the fact that you were out in the open were forgotten as he began to meet your hips, thrusting up into you. You wrapped both of your arms around him, moving on top of him so you could ride him deeper, your chest now in perfect height so he could suck on your tits. 

„Oh fuck Javi,“ you moaned and he slapped your ass, fucking up into you, meeting your hips in audible smacks every time you skin collided. 

You could feel the familiar tingles of your orgasm approaching. 

„I’m close,“ he warned and you whimpered. 

„Me too,“ you gasped, crying out when he bit into the soft flesh over your right nipple, marking you yet again. 

„Cum for me,“ he grunted and you looked down at him. 

„Cum for me so I can take you inside and have you sit on my face until you pass out,“ he continued and you let him take over, letting him fuck into you in quick hard thrusts as you orgasm took over, making you shake against him your fingers digging into his skin on his broad back as you held on to him. 

„Such a good slut for me,“ he praised you, now chasing his own high, fucking into you a couple more times until you felt him spill himself inside of you, your name a deep rumble against you neck as he hugged you against his body. 

You stayed just like this for a moment. In each others arms, out of breath, the rain still coming down heavy just outside the porch. 

It was when he felt you shiver that you both came out of your post orgasm bliss. He pulled his shirt that you somehow still were half wearing back up over your shoulders, kissing you softly, a tired smile on his lips. 

„We should get inside,“ he hummed against your lips. You nodded, yet none of you moved, being content just like this, close, in each others arms, deep in the night when nobody was awake to see you like this. 

You could feel him drip of of you, his softening cock still inside of you. 

„Javi?“ You asked, your head resting against his shoulder. 

„Hm?“ He kissed your temple. 

„Can I sleep in your bed tonight?“ You whispered. He was quiet for a moment and you were about to get up from him when his arms around you tightened and you looked at him. 

„I… I suck at this,“ he sighed and you tilted your head. 

„Suck at what?“

„Relationships,“ he mumbled and your eyes softened. 

„Is that what this is?“ You asked quietly and his eyes were big and he looked so so scared. 

„It could be, if you want that,“ he finally said and you smiled. You reached one hand up so you could touch his cheek before you leaned in and kissed him softly. 

„I do want that,“ you mumbled and you felt him smile against your lips.

„Yeah?“ Javi asked and you nodded. 

„Good, cause I am not letting you go ever,“ he whispered, before kissed you again. 

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Shouldn't Talk to Strangers

|| biker sevika x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader's exhausted/starving, Sevika helps out reader, Sevika struggles with the idea of liking reader, Sevika teasing reader, timid reader, cliffhanger

|| Summary; when Sevika's out on Piltover's backroads, she comes across reader.

Requests closed!

Started; November 25th

Finished; November 25th

Request; sevika biker x freader

~~~

Usually, Sevika had her gang with her. Not today. Today she decided to go on a lone ride, like old times. Venturing through the backroads of Piltover. She loved the backroads. Nobody ever used them. It was calm. Peaceful. A nice get away from Zaun's chaos. As much as she loved it. Sometimes even she needed a break.

She'd been on the roads for a while when she came across you. Why was some girl out inthe middle of nowhere? You looked pretty beat up, exhausted. Possibly even hungry. It looked like you'd been walking for some time. Sevika wondered where you'd walked from to look as worn out as you did. Curiosity got the better of her and she pulled her bike up to a stop beside you. Jumping off.

"Hey," Sevika called. Getting your attention. You flinched and looked at her, clearly a bit startled by the stranger's appearance. Obviously you had heard the bike. It wasn't quiet. You just never expected her to stop and talk to you. She was tall, muscular and overall pretty intimidating compared to you. If she wanted a fight you would sure as hell lose. You hoped she didn't want a fight. Despite all that, part of you did find her pretty hot. Only you didn't focus on those thoughts. More worried about staying alive and alert.

You stayed quiet. After all, you shouldn't talk to strangers. Sevika picked up on how intimidated you felt by her and sighed," look, I'm not gonna hurt you. It's my day off, anyway." She tried for a joke, that just made your eyes widen and clearly didn't help. Why'd she even bother? " you want a ride or not?"

You glanced to her bike, then back at Sevika. You figured, if she wanted to hurt you by now then she would have. You nod and follow her to the bike. Getting on between her and the handles. Sevika glanced down at you. She would never admit it, but a small part of her was worried for you.

She took you back to her place. The ride was long, filled with awkward silence. You'd nearly fallen asleep. What you didn't know is that you could've, Sevika would have made sure you didn't fall. After all, even she was finding an attraction to you. She just didn't recognize it.

Once there, Sevika brought you inside and let you shower up while she gave your clothes a quick wash and made some food. You certainly took your time in the shower. Feeling relieved by the water hitting your skin. It was a nice change compared to the cool fall breeze from before. When you're done, Sevika let you borrow some of her clothes. But her shirt on you looked more like a dress. She had to fight the urge to laugh when you cams stumbling out of her room. She does scoff, though. As the food finishes, she hands you a plate of it and you wolf it down. Clearly starving.

"So, where you coming from?" Sevika asks. Sitting down at the table across from you. Interest behind her eyes.

You tell her you're from another country, you'd wanted a change of scenery and decided to try and check out Piltover. The City of Progress. "I've always wanted to see it. When I was a kid, my parents would tell me stories. They're from Piltover." You explained, Sevika nodded. Listening to your every word. So your parents were from Piltover, huh? She did recognize some Piltover features in you. Mostly the eyes. You had that look they all did.

Silence filled the room again and it wasn't long before you were done eating. It was getting late, so Sevika let you stay. Setting up a space in her living room for you before heading off to her own room.

You had the best sleep of your life.

It's been about a month since you met Sevika. The two of you had warmed up to each other. Sevika let you stay at her place. She didn't want you out on the streets and she knew how harsh Piltover could be if you went alone. Staying with her seemed like the best option. That way.. she knew you were safe. She could protect you. Wait. What? Why does she care about that? You... well- you were sort of her friend. She did tolerate you. Sevika sighed, shaking away those thoughts as she made the two of you warm beverages. She made you your preferred, while she got a black coffee for herself. Taking them over to the couch where you were curled up. She handed you your mug and you smiled at her.

"Thanks, Sev." You murmured, taking a sip. Secika nodded and sat down beside you. Leaving some space between. Though you quickly filled it. Moving closer and snuggling right up against her. She glanced down at you and raised an eyebrow. But didn't complain. She was used to this. You were pretty much the only one allowed to touch her and get away with it, anyway.

The night was calm, peaceful. It was getting colder outside with winter approaching. Snow hasn't fallen yet but there's been a lot of rain. You weren't a fan of the winter. You didn't like being cold. But Sevika kept you warm. And you were grateful to her.

You and her have shared many little moments like this over the last month as you grew more comfortable with each other. Sevika was basically your best friend. You wouldn't have it any other way. Well, you would if you could. But you didn't know where she stood on that. You've developed quite the crush on her. To anyone who saw the two of you together, it was pretty obvious. You were glad Sevika didn't seem to pick up on that stuff. You couldn't help but bite your lip, wondering if you should finally say something about it. It seemed like a good time... right? The atmosphere was calm, relaxed. The two of you were snuggled up. Enjoying warm beverages. You swallowed and tensed up. Maybe you shouldn't.. but if not now, then when?

"Hey, Sevika?" Your tone came out quieter than usual. But Sevika was used to you being quiet and timid. She looked down at you. Giving you a nod to continue. Your cheeks flushed, she didn't know if that was because of the cold or another reason. "I... can I tell you something?"

"Spit it out, Y/N." She teased, her tone was lighthearted despite her words. She would never intentionally be mean to you. Sevika did often tease you, though.

"I like you." You muttered. Speaking quickly but she caught what you said and scoffed.

"I know you do, idiot. You never leave me alone." Sevika didn't catch on to what you meant. She thought you just said you liked her in general. Not in a romantic way.

You grimaced and sighed, sipping your drink for a moment to collect your thoughts. Should you even correct her? You decided to push past the growing nervousness," no- Sevika. Like- crush. I have a crush on you." Your words came out a stutter, fumbling over each other. Sevika went quiet. You had a crush on her? That's when everything clicked for her. How she had been feeling about you. She realized that she too, liked you. More than she had ever liked anyone. Her jaw clenched at the thought. Sevika had never been a big fan of relationships, they honestly scared her a bit. The thought of someone caring for her, she knew they would only get hurt. She wasn't made for relationships. But the way you looked at her just now... you didn't seem to care about all that. You who had snuck into her heart without her even noticing. Were you worth the shot?

[loggiepj]

illicit affairs

part 2 | part 3

YOU'D be a fool trying to convince yourself that Wanda was just some old hag sleeping on your bed that night. But god, she had never looked so peaceful and gorgeous than that very moment, as she was ten years ago. You didn't even know it was possible for someone to look so beautiful, it looked like a crime. As if the gods above blessed only those who were cruel. And cursed those who worshipped them.

Her creamy white legs were exposed from the blanket wrapped around her body. Her tiny soft snores filled the room as she buried herself deep into the pillows. It would take days before her scent would be gone from your sanctuary.

It tore you apart to look at her and feel these forbidden emotions, mad at yourself for feeling this way towards the old woman. You should hate her. You should have kicked her out for what she did.

You decided to go to the kitchen and make something for breakfast instead, preoccupying yourself from worrying too much, that the one nightmare you had always have had come true.

Even your hands were shaking as you beat down the eggs into a bowl, it was a miracle you had managed to cook food. The bacon almost ended up burnt when you jumped from her sudden presence in the kitchen.

"You're awake," you said, ignoring Wanda's gaze on you, her eyes glistening with a recognizable look. You knew that look. She used to look at you that way when you were wearing nothing but her white button down shirt as you made her a quick midnight snack whenever the twins weren't around. But that was ten years ago.

You don't feel anything for the woman anymore, right?

"I made us breakfast," you said before she opened her mouth to speak, stopping her. "You should eat first before you leave."

Wanda took small steps towards the dining table, looking at the food you made her. You wondered if she was touched, remembering how Wanda preferred scrambled eggs more than sunny side ups. But you convinced yourself you didn't do it for her. Because that would make you a martyr.

"This is good," Wanda softly said as you two began to eat in silence. You forced a small smile her way and went back eating.

"I haven't had breakfast like this for ages," she admitted, chuckling. "The boys mostly want cereals for breakfast, I ended up liking them, especially those colorful sweet ones, the . . . I forgot what they were called."

"Froot Loops?"

The skin around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Yes, Froot Loops. I swear I'd end up having diabetes one day."

You nodded, chugging down what remained of your coffee as you avoided the woman's gaze.

"What are your plans today? It's a Saturday," the brunette added. "The twins are planning to shop around Chinatown before the classes start. You might even have ideas where to-"

"I can't," you answered, "sorry, I am meeting someone today."

"Oh," she went on, a teasing smirk on her face, "a girlfriend?"

Your fork made a noise as you let it fall down your plate. "What do you want, Miss Maximoff?"

Wanda's smile immediately vanished as she stopped eating. "I . . . I'm sorry if I said something wrong. I didn't mean to pry if you have someone special-"

"No, I mean, what do you want? Why are you here? What were you thinking looking for me, for you to end up inside a sketchy bar?"

Wanda bit back a sob as she looked at you, her hand slipping to hold yours across the table. You tensed and abruptly took it away, ended up with her curling hers into a fist.

"I am so sorry, Y/n," she began, "I'm so sorry for what I did all those years ago, for what I said to you, for being so cruel. I . . . I have to live everyday regretting everything I have said to you. You didn't deserve those things. You were nothing but good to me, and I took you for granted. I . . . I just . . . miss you. I miss you, Y/n. There isn't a day in my life since you left that I haven't thought of you."

You scoffed, standing up as you began cleaning the dishes.

You heard the scraping of her chair against the floor as she stood. "I looked for you. After your graduation, I looked for you. I wanted to take back everything I said. I didn't mean those things. If I could only turn back time, I'd go back to that very day and I should've kissed you and chose you-"

"But you can't," you butted in as you turned to glance at the hysteric woman before you, "turn back the time, I mean."

Wanda was panting softly as her teary eyes stared right at you. She shook her head as she said, "No, I can't."

"That's unfortunate, then," you said back coldly.

Wanda swallowed, still frozen on her spot, and before she'd burst into more tears in your apartment, you went towards the doorway, grabbed your coat and keys. "I'm just gonna grab some coffee. Your clothes are freshly laundered in the bathroom if you want to freshen up before leaving. Please don't forget to lock the door when you leave."

"Y/n—" But you haven't heard the end of it as you closed the door.

Luckily, Wanda wasn't there when you went back home two hours after. But once you had ensured the whole apartment was empty, you broke down and cried.

TIME and absence would surely heal a wound. A couple of months had passed since that dreary encounter and you swore there were a few days when you had completely forgotten about Wanda. That was until you received a call late Friday night when you had only just arrived in your apartment.

It was a nurse from a nearby private hospital, saying that Tommy got into an accident. Before you argued why you were in his contacts in the first place, you drove to the hospital to visit.

Apparently, Tommy got into a fight in one of the fraternity parties he and his friends attended. With broken nose, cut lip and fractured arm, Tommy almost looked unrecognizable.

"Sorry, Y/n," Tommy said when he saw you enter the emergency room, "I didn't know who else to call. And I don't want to worry Mom-"

"It's okay, Tommy. Are you okay? What happened?"

And as you listened to Tommy and the nurse who attended to him, your breathing quickened, your hand hovering over the phone in your jean's pocket. Hesitant to call his mother, even if you knew you had to. Seeing the brunette was the last thing you wanted to do. But this was her son. Your feelings should come last.

Instead of calling the woman, you ended up sending her a short text message, to which she replied instantly, saying that she was already on her way.

You were getting a cup of coffee from a vending machine outside the hospital when Wanda arrived, hearing her voice inside the emergency room.

You decided to sit on the bench by the waiting area, thinking whether you should leave them or stay. You must have fallen asleep on your seat for a few minutes when you felt someone sit beside you.

"Thank you for being there for him," Wanda said.

"How's Tommy?"

"He's under some meds right now for the pain, but the doctor says he's going to be fine."

"That's good," you said.

"There's no available private room at the moment, so he has no choice but to stay in a ward with other patients," she went on, massaging her head. "Doctor said he'll likely be discharged tomorrow or the day after that."

"If you want, you can sleep in my apartment, take a bath or such, while waiting for him to get discharged," you offered. And you had no idea where such sympathy came from.

There was even a short moment where her eyes were at your mouth before she looked back at you.

"I don't want to impose—"

"Wanda, it's fine," you insisted. "For Tommy."

She nodded. "Thank you."

YOU VISITED Tommy in the ward first before leaving, while waiting for Wanda to finish filling up the papers in the hospital's admission room.

"You going to be fine alone?"

"I can manage," he replied, chuckling, showing off his cast.

"Will your father visit?"

The smile on his face disappeared, his fingers playing on the tape around his wrist. "Dad does not visit us often anymore. And I hardly believe he cared for us anyway, now that he has another family of his own."

That was news to you.

"I always tell Mom to find someone so she wouldn't end up alone," he went on, his eyes at the window where you two could see Wanda busy writing. "But she never remarried after Dad, maybe it was because she never trusts men like Dad anymore. But it's been years, you know. I know she's too scared to admit it, but I know she's lonely at home now that me and Billy are in college."

Your eyes were on Wanda as she talked to the Doctor. "I'm sure she'll find someone in the right time."

He laughed softly, making you look at him. "Come to think of it, they got divorced years ago, months after we didn't see you at the house anymore. There was one time Billy thought you were the other woman Dad has been cheating with. But I know you're not that bad of a person."

You stiffened. "You mean, they'd been divorced that long?"

Tommy hummed. "Yes, ten years ago, I guess. We eventually found out who the other woman was. Good thing we didn't curse you by mistake."

You forced to laugh at his joke, but your mind was running in deep circles wondering if the divorce really had something to do with you.

"COME on, don't be shy," your friend Steve invited Wanda, who looked as shocked as you were. "Any friend of Y/n is a friend of ours."

Somehow, when Wanda was returning the clothes you lent to her that time Tommy was hospitalized, there you were in your apartment with your friends, who held a surprised farewell party for Bucky, who was leaving for London the next day. As if Wanda knew perfect timing.

Kate hadn't left your side, even sitting between you just to eradicate any weirdness. The group's conversation went from talking about everyone's jobs, making Wanda let out her plans she was starting a flower shop business in New York and that she had just bought a spot particularly two blocks from the university. You tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and convinced yourself she was only doing that to be closer to her boys. But you knew better.

Even Kate faked a laugh as she held another toast for the woman. "What about a special someone, Miss Maximoff? I heard you were divorced. Anyone you're meeting at the moment?"

Wanda's eyes met yours for a second before you looked away and drank whatever was left from your bottle of beer.

"No," she answered, chuckling. "I think I'm too old for that stuff anyway."

Bucky chortled. "No way you're old, Miss. If you want, I can set you up with people I know from work. I might even be successful on setting you up than Y/n here, whom I've failed a number of times."

"Why?" Wanda asked curiously.

Kate tried to stop Bucky. "Bucky, just give it a rest—"

"Oh, Y/n here has unknown high standards," Bucky enthusiastically added. "Believe me when dozens had gone down on their knees and Y/n has respectfully refused any advances."

"Shut up," you said, laughing, although you could tell Wanda's eyes never left yours all night long.

WHEN the party ended, all of the attendees slowly started to leave the apartment until there was only you and Wanda. Wanda helped you clean up the place, starting with throwing the empty boxes of pizza and bottles of beers into the trash bag.

"Y/n." Wanda broke the silence. Chappell Roan's casual was playing through the speakers.

"Mm?"

"Is it true?"

You stopped putting the dishes into the dishwasher to look at her. "Is what true?"

There was a small pause before she went on. "Have I ruined you for anyone else?"

You straighten your posture, frustrated as you glared back at her. "How dare you?"

"Then tell me," she challenged, approaching you with a sly smile on her face. "It's an easy question answerable by yes or no. Tell me."

"You infuriate me!"

"That's not a no—"

"You're nothing but a pathetic old slut who craves attention from someone who doesn't want her anymore!"

"Admit it then!" She leaned forward, closer to your face, her nostrils flaring. "Say it to my face that you don't feel anything for me anymore and I'll leave you alone for good! Tell me—"

You pushed your mouth against hers, effectively stopping Wanda from talking. She gasped upon the impact, with her back hitting the wall behind her from the force. And she welcomed you with as much aggression, her hands cupping your face to hold you.

With your arms on each side of her head, you pressed your bodies together, molding against each other. Her tongue played with yours, tasting what had been missed, wondering if each one of you were still as desperate as you were ten years ago.

"Y/N!" she moaned loudly a couple of minutes later as you pulled her hair, while roughly pistoning your strap into her from behind.

You had never thought you'd be able to do it. But there you were in your own bedroom with the woman you both loathed and loved so much on all fours before you. And it was driving you insane.

Mind filled with rage and lust, you tried to forget that this woman before you was the cause of your downfall. You tried to forget she hurt you, broke your heart to pieces as if you were nothing. Basking in the moment, you harshly grabbed the skin of her hips, nails digging, as you repeatedly and relentlessly pushed into her warm dripping entrance.

The tip of your strap hit your clit at the right angle, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. And when you heard Wanda's whimpers before you, your hand slipped through her back then held her shoulder as you fastened the pace.

The brunette screamed as her body convulsed in waves, shuddering as she came. If it weren't for you holding her upright, she would've fallen straight face down on the sheets.

But her cumming didn't stop you from chasing your relief. The sweet nectar from her release dripping down both your thighs only made the action slippery and noisy.

"Y/n. . . ," Wanda moaned, her hand attempting to hold you back but you slapped her hand away before leaning forward as you held both of her hands behind her back. This rendered Wanda's face flat against the pillow before her, muffling her moans.

"Is this what you want, huh?" you demanded, eyes almost in tears seeing Wanda and pretending you weren't just loving every moment that was happening right now. "Is this what you want from me?"

"Yes!" she screamed, gasping when you spanked one of her butt cheeks. "Yes! Y/n! You're all I want! You're all I've ever wanted!"

And that snapped something inside you. The coil in your stomach exploded, making you press your front into her back as you lay on top of her.

"Wanda," you moaned into her neck, your hips stuttering as you came. She held your face behind her as your body shook.

"I got you, Y/n," she cooed softly as you panted, still trembling above her. "I got you."

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