#I can just imagine how this will look on screen

[enviedear]

stay, little valentine, stay ｡𖦹° jason todd

🎧ྀི your roommate makes the fateful mistake of passing you, his roommate, off as his girlfriend to his boundary ignorant family. now the both of you are tasked with maintaining a faux romance for the entirety of a dinner at wayne manor—simple enough, right?

wc 4.2k | roommate!jason, lowercase intended, fem!reader, brief mention of booze, cursing, mutual pining, two idiots fake dating…truly what more can i say (a lot, so). please, enjoy my 'funny little valentines' day special ᯓᡣ𐭩

“there’s not enough room in the freezer for the ice trays. either move your booze or enjoy an ice free apartment,” your voice is tinged with annoyance as you stare down your long-term roommate.

he’s laid back on the shared couch, right cushion side, staring back at you with a impish grin on his face, “or, you could finally throw out that cake you bought for your ‘promotion’ party. since, the fuckin’ promotion never happened and it takes up half of my freezer.”

“our freezer.” you add. “and fuck you, i could still get that promotion any day now. i can always unfreeze it—good as new.”

jason seems to be beginning to tune you out as your eyes drift to a new letter on the fridge, stuck on with an ‘i hate gotham’ magnet. the print is fancy, cursive, bold black ink—YOU’RE INVITED—it reads.

“what are we invited to?” you ask, ice tray debacle not at all at the forefront of your mind now. not when you can tell your roommate’s got an invite from his estranged past guardian, none other than bruce wayne.

he hums a reply at first, still zeroed in to the rerun of some prison show. when he finally picks up on your question he sours, visibly, “some idiotic anniversary dinner for dick and kori. we’re not going, you weren’t even invited.”

you pout, “i want to go! why can’t we go?”

jason’s got a stern look on his face now, and you’ve always found it so unnerving how quickly he musters it up—usually so relaxed in your shared domain.

“we’re not going because i told a lie, and if we show up…everyone will know.” he groans, “just drop it, i need a little more time to ride this out.”

suddenly more intrigued, you prance over to him on the couch, flopping down beside him, “a lie?”

“don’t. just drop it.” he huffs at the obvious annoyance on your face, “it’s just stupid.”

“c’mon, we know all of each others ‘stupid’ shit. what was the lie, todd?” you’re being genuine, riddling your appeasement with a sweetly sardonic tone.

finally, after a good minute of staring at a very completive jason, he cracks, “i might have alluded to being in a relationship with you.”

your smile cracks before he even finishes his admission, oscillating between confusion and sheer giddiness—trying to halt the part of your brain that wants to imagine a life where a relationship isn’t such a laughable idea.

you curl your lips to stifle your last giggles before looking back up at him, “why?”

jason shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the question. his eyes dart away from yours, finding sudden interest in the television screen, "bruce kept...asking about my life here. if i was settling in, if i was happy." he runs a hand through his dark hair, "and then, all the others got involved, asking to set me up with people. i needed them to stop asking. and you-" he pauses, scratching the back of his neck, "you were the most believable option.”

you stare at him, unblinking, trying to process his words. "most believable option…” you repeat slowly, testing how the phrase feels on your tongue. a warmth spreads across your chest-whether from flattery or something else entirely, you're not quite sure. "so, what? think i can’t pretend to be your girlfriend for a dinner?" the idea sends an unwelcome flutter through your chest. you curse yourself.

jason's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and something else you can't quite read. "you'd do that?" he asks, his voice carrying an unusual note of vulnerability.

"of course," you reply, trying to keep your tone light and casual. "what are roommates for? plus, free fancy dinner at wayne manor? count me in." you're aiming for nonchalance, but your heart is racing at the prospect.

jason's jaw clenches, a tell-tale sign of him thinking too hard, "it's not that simple. they'll know it's fake. bruce especially—dick and tim too—they’re too observant for their own good.”

"oh please," you wave off his concern, settling deeper into the couch cushions, "we've lived together for what, two years now? we already act like an old married couple anyway. i know your coffee order, you know my work schedule. we share groceries, we fight about ice trays—“ you gesture broadly to the kitchen, "it's practically method acting at this point."

he looks at you then, really looks at you, with an expression you can't quite read. "you'd really do that? pretend to be with me in front of my entire family?"

"of course i would," you say softly, nudging his shoulder with yours. "what are friends for if not to fake date each other to avoid awkward family dinners?" you try to keep your tone light, ignoring the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you that rare, genuine smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"fine." he finally concedes, shrugging his shoulders, "but we need to get our story straight. no holes, no gaps—i figured we'd keep it close to the truth. roommates who gradually realized there was something more." he pauses, then adds, "the best lies are built on truth or some shit, right?”

you nod, and start crafting the imagined romance with jason. over the next hour, you both piece together your relationship timeline—how you first bonded over late night takeout after his patrols, the way you'd patch him up after particularly rough nights, and how somewhere between shared grocery runs and movie marathons, faux you fell for him. or him for you—the both of you can't agree on that just yet.

you try not to focus on how easy it is to imagine, how some of these made-up memories feel more like documentation rather than fabrication.

"okay, and when did we actually get together?" you ask, pulling your knees up to your chest, trying to ignore how invested you're becoming in this alternate reality.

"three months ago." jason answers quickly, too quickly, like he's already thought about this. "after that night I came home really beaten up, remember? you were so pissed at me for being reckless."

you remember that night vividly—how he ever thinks you could forget, you’re unsure.

him stumbling through the window at three in the morning, blood seeping through his stupid jacket. how your hands shook as you stitched him up, how quiet he was, how close his blanched face was to yours. you’d attributed the racing of your heart to fear, but now…not so much.

"yeah," you say softly. "that works."

the rest of the week flies by in a blur of preparation and anxiety, until suddenly it's the night of the dinner, and you're standing in front of your mirror, wondering if you've made a terrible mistake.

you're wearing a deep red-toned dress that hits just above your knee—something you'd bought on a whim (a fifty percent off sale) months ago and never found the right occasion for. jason had given it an approving nod when you'd shown him, which somehow makes you feel more nervous than reassured as you stare yourself down.

"ready?" jason's voice comes from behind you, and you turn to find him adjusting his tie in the hallway mirror. he looks…different. good different. the suit fits him perfectly, and you wonder briefly if alfred had something to do with that. the older man has a penchant for doting over your overgrown battling ram of a roommate.

"as i'll ever be." you manage, trying to keep your voice steady. "but, um, how convincing do you think we need to be?"

jason's eyes meet yours in the mirror, "enough to fool the world's greatest detective," he sighs, "and his army of protégés." he turns to face you properly, and something in his expression softens, but he looks away too quickly for you to discern, "you look really pretty."

"thanks." you mumble, fiddling with your clutch. "so do you. very…boyfriend."

he laughs, but it sounds slightly strained. "that's the idea, isn't it?" he offers his arm to you, "shall we?"

the drive to wayne manor is muted. jason's knuckles are white on the shifter, and you find yourself reaching over to place your hand over his without thinking. he startles slightly, but he doesn't pull away—even keeps contact as he switches gears.

"hey." you start softly, "we've got this. we know each other better than anyone, we live together. besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

jason sighs, his hand tightening slightly under yours. "you clearly don’t know how bruce and tim get at these things. anniversary or not, they'll smell blood in the water if we slip up."

"relax," you assure him, glancing out at the looming trees lining the driveway. "i doubt they’ll care about your relationship timeline when they’re busy fawning over how happy dick and kori are."

jason shoots you a look that clearly says 'don't tempt fate', but his grip on the wheel loosens slightly. "just…follow my lead. and if it gets too weird, we can always fake a medical emergency."

"that...is always an option." you grin, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips when he smiles back.

the manor looms up ahead, and as jason pulls up to the gate, you feel his hand squeeze yours briefly, almost indecipherable.

"last chance to back out." he murmurs.

you intertwine your fingers with his, ignoring the voice in your head that whispers how right it feels. "not a chance, todd. you're stuck with me."

the gates open, and as you drive up the winding driveway, you're unable to shake the feeling that you're about to cross a line you can't come back from. but with jason's hand so warm and relaxed in yours, you're not sure you want to.

jason parks the car in front of the house at the partition, "in case we need a quick exit." he shrugs.

"i think you're too worried, jason. i doubt they'll even question it. you said they wanted you dating anyway, i bet they'll just be happy." your voice is quiet, hand hovering in front of the doorbell.

he sighs, "you don't know these people, they question everything."

before you can reply or try to alleviate his doubts, the double doors fly open. you grab jason's hand in your own and pull him closer, just as alfred sets eyes on the pair of you.

alfred's eyes visibly brighten at the sight of both of you, his normally reserved expression softening into something fonder, "master jason," he greets, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "and miss, how lovely for you to be joining tonight. everyone is very excited to meet you, i fear my few stories were not enough to quell them."

you smile, a real genuine one too, "it's nice to see you again alfred! i hope we're not too late—jason decided to change his tie last minute."

alfred hums and beckons you both inside, "fashionable tardiness, miss. i assure you."

jason, hand now sweaty in yours, chuckles, "he's being nice since you're with me. he's usually irate by my lateness."

you shoot jason a pointed look as alfred continues. "master richard and miss kori have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. their anniversary dinner is a rare occasion they’ve pulled out all the stops for, you see."

jason grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, overachievers.

the sound of multiple voices echos through from a room, and you feel jason's grip tighten slightly. you've heard stories about his family for years now—mostly complaints, occasionally fond remembrances, and everything in between during late night conversations over takeout.

"master bruce insisted on formal dining tonight." alfred mentions, though his tone suggests mild disapproval. you've learned over your visits that alfred much prefers when the family dines in the kitchen.

jason scoffs quietly, "because god forbid we eat somewhere comfortable." you squeeze his hand again, a silent reminder of your emergency exit strategy. two years of living together has given you an extensive library of non-verbal communications.

the dining room, when you enter, is exactly as alfred has described it countless times—grandiose in a way that speaks to old money and older traditions. the table stretches long and elegant, set with what you recognize as the ‘good china’ alfred often mentions.

your muscles tense slightly as you finally notice all of the eyes on you—staring and studying—you have to think before you step.

bruce wayne rises first, and despite all of jason's stories, despite seeing him on tv and in newspapers, you're struck by his presence. "jason." he greets, then turns his attention to you. "we've all heard quite a bit about you from alfred, though significantly less from my son."

you feel jason's posture stiffen, but you're prepared for this. "oh, you know how jason is with sharing things." you say easily, the words flowing naturally after years of defending his privacy to nosy neighbors and concerned coworkers. "though, alfred's probably told you all my embarrassing stories by now."

dick grayson—exactly as handsome as the magazines suggest—breaks into a wide grin. "actually, alfred's been surprisingly tight lipped. just kept saying we should ask jason ourselves." his eyes sparkle with mischief. "which, of course, got us nowhere."

"some things don't need to be broadcast to the whole family." jason grumbles, but his thumb is mindlessly drawing small circles on your hand, a gesture you've learned means he's more comfortable than he's letting on. 

"oh, but this is so wonderful!" a melodic, cheerful voice chimes in, and you glance up to see koriand’r—kori to most—seated beside dick, her vibrant curly red hair catching the light as she smiles radiantly. "you must forgive us for prying, but jason does not often share such…delightful surprises."

"by 'us,' she means her." dick cuts in with a smirk, earning a playful nudge from kori.

"yes, and what of it?" she replies lightly, turning her attention fully to you. "you see, jason is like a tamaranian grisnek—so fierce and protective on the outside, but underneath, he is all kindness and loyalty. how could we not be curious about the person who has captured his heart?"

"great. glad we're all analyzing my personal life at the dinner table." jason mutters, though his hand stays on yours, his grip steady.

"do not be fooled," kori says in a whisper that is anything but subtle, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "jason pretends to be irritated, but inside, i know he is glowing with happiness."

your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself, and jason sighs heavily, his shoulders sagging with mock defeat. "i think i'm gonna need another drink."

kori leans back, laughing softly, the sound warm and lilting, as she looks between you and jason once more. "you are lovely." she adds sincerely, her tone softening. "and jason could not have chosen better."

tim drake, who you've only seen in passing when he's stopped by your apartment to drop off miscellaneous ‘private’ documents, raises an eyebrow. "yes, it's all very sweet." he hums it almost, tone carefully neutral but eyes sharp, studying you.

"sweet indeed." you agree, letting some of your genuine fondness for jason color your voice. it's not hard to fake being in love with someone when you've spent two years memorizing their coffee order, patching up their wounds, and falling asleep on their shoulder during movie marathons. the hard part, you're starting to realize, might be pretending it's all pretend.

bruce barely looks up from his plate as he speaks again, cutting through your blissful thoughts of jason, “a shame i wasn’t aware you two were involved.”

jason tenses beside you, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “yeah, well. guess you don’t know everything, old man.”

bruce sets his fork down with deliberate slowness. his gaze flicks between the two of you, assessing, “i never said i did.” his voice is even, unreadable. “but you don’t bring people around often. that’s worth noting.”

jason scoffs, like he couldn’t care less, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—annoyance, unease, probably both.

jason’s hand finds yours under the table. it’s definitely not a calculated move, not a necessary nor obvious display for the act you’re putting on. it’s just—there. warm and solid, his fingers curling around yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you don’t let go.

dinner progresses with a strange mix of tension and ease. You find yourself falling into natural conversation with dick about your work, while jason maintains a careful distance from bruce's attempts at engagement. still, his hand hasn't left yours, and you're starting to wonder if he's forgotten it's all for show.

"so—how did you two finally get together?" dick asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

you exchange a quick glance with jason, settling into the story you've rehearsed. "it wasn't really some big dramatic moment," you say, the lie feeling uncomfortably close to the truth. "we just...realized we work."

jason picks up the thread smoothly, his thumb still tracing patterns on your hand. "she was patching me up after a rough night, mad at me for being so bruised," he says, and you can hear the genuine emotion in his voice. "and i just...i dont know—knew, i guess."

tim's watching you both with analytical eyes, and you wonder if he can see through the charade. "that tracks." he says finally. "you two have always been...close."

"speaking of close," dick interjects with a grin, "i think it's hilarious jason used to insist you were 'just roommates', and yet never went on any of the dates i set him up on. i should have known, really." there's a pout on his face, humourous.

you laugh, perhaps a bit too nervously, "well, we were. for a while." the irony of the statement isn't lost on you. you can see jason watching you from your peripheral, face stoic—but his eyes are soft. the way they watch over you, simply affectionate.

bruce, who's been quietly observing, finally speaks. "i'm glad jason has someone looking out for him," he says, and there's something in his tone that makes your heart ache. "he's always been...independent."

jason's grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. "yeah, well, some things change." he mutters, but there's less bite in his words than usual.

the conversation shifts to safer topics—work, current events, alfred's latest culinary experiments. you find yourself relaxing despite the pretense, falling into familiar patterns of banter with jason, finishing his sentences, and sharing knowing looks.

it's during dessert that damian, who's been suspiciously quiet, finally speaks up. "you're good for him," he declares with all the authority of a youngest sibling. "he's less annoying when you're around."

jason chokes on his tiramisu, and you pat his back automatically, the gesture so natural you don't even think about it. "thanks, damian!" you say, fighting back a smile. "i think."

as the evening winds down and dinner ends, you find yourself in the manor's vast library, having wandered away from the group for a moment of quiet. besides, you feel somewhat redundant against their coded phrases and stories. jason finds you, as he always does.

"hey." he speaks softly, coming to stand beside you. "you doing okay?"

you turn to face him, suddenly very aware of how close he is. "yeah, i'm good. your family's...intense, but nice. just like you said."

he laughs quietly, but there's something different in his eyes. "you're amazing, you know that? playing along with all this. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to." you admit, and it feels dangerous how true those words are. "besides, what are fake girlfriends for?"

jason's looking at you with an expression you can't quite read, and for a moment, you think he might say something more. but then dick's voice calls from somewhere far off in the house and the moment gaps.

"we should head back." jason says, but he doesn't move. "before they send a search party."

you nod, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. "yeah, we should."

but neither of you moves, caught in this strange liminal space where pretend and reality blur, and you're no longer sure which is which. even less sure if you hunger for dreams or waking existence—which is which? for a split second, you want to reach out. you desperately want to feel him—to possibly transfer the devotion you’re still too afraid to admit you harbor.

jason’s breath is staggered, coming out forced and shallow. his eyes, darker in the dim light, are flitting between you and the door—until he focuses in on you, fully. you’re too confused as to why he’s getting closer to you to react accordingly when his lips brush yours.

your first instinct is to furrow your brows, still confused. then, you kiss back. hungrily. confusion still fogs your mind, but nowhere near the way jason does. his lips are chapped, plump, and still tasting faintly of expensive dark liquor. his body cages you close him, hands respectfully at your shoulders. of course the only thing you can recognize is jason.

you err on the side respectfulness—opting to tug him closer by the tie. there’s a flash of the memory of him putting it on, and you can’t fight a small smirk from slipping onto your lips. jason must notice, because he finally breaks away to peer down at you.

“what?” he whispers, panting and staring down at your lips.

“what do you mean, what? we kissed.” you still feel giddy from his kiss, but reality begins to settle into you like a winter chill.

jason watches you closely, his expression a mix of smugness and unease, “hmmm—playing it dangerous.” he finally murmurs, shaking his head.

you arch a brow, feigning derision. “you say that to all the girls, todd?”

he exhales a laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “yeah,” he huffs. “that grand number of...you.”

before you can say anything, footsteps echo just outside the library's door. jason instinctively steps back, widening the space between you just as dick pokes his head in. “there you two are! we were about to send out a search party.”

you smile, pushing down the lingering tension. “sorry. just taking a little tour.”

dick’s gaze flickers between you and jason, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “right. well, come on. we're playing charades—and bruce is actually smiling. you don’t want to miss that.”

jason groans, but he follows you and dick back back toward the others. his hand brushes against yours in the hallway, and for a second, you think he’s going to take it again. but he doesn’t. 

charades is winding down by the time you return, alfred putting away various dry erase boards and markers with the kind of efficiency only a butler can possesses.

kori beams when she sees you, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “lovebrids! you have returned!" she gestures to herself and grayson, "thank you for coming—we would like to extend our support to your relationship.”

jason lets out a little breath, like he wasn’t expecting that—like he isn’t sure what to do with the sincerity. “thanks, kori.”

bruce, too, seems slightly less intimidating now. “thank you for coming—you’re welcome here anytime, both of you.” he tells you, and it sounds like a rare offering.

something about it all settles in your chest, warm and unexpected. you’ve spent so much time being jason’s person in private—patching him up, watching his back, making sure he gets home in one piece—that it’s almost startling to have it acknowledged in front of everyone else.

goodnights and goodbyes come soon after, and tim catches jason by the elbow before the pair of you can walk out the door, pulling him aside for a hushed conversation. you linger near the doorway, talking with kori and dick, but you can’t help the way your attention keeps flickering back to jason.

when he finally returns to your side, his expression is unreadable. “ready to go?”

you nod, murmuring your goodbyes as you both step back into the night air. jason doesn’t say anything as he leads you back to the car, but his hands flex at his sides.

the drive back is quieter than before, the easy banter from earlier replaced with something heavier, something neither of you seems willing to touch just yet. jason’s grip is tight on the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed on the road.

it isn’t until you’re pulling into the familiar streets near your apartment that he finally speaks. “they bought it.”

you huff a quiet laugh. “yeah? i told you so.”

jason’s eyes flick to you for a fraction of a second before he exhales. “thank you, seriously. you were great.”

you glance at him, something warm curling in your chest. “we just make a good team.”

something glints in his expression, something hesitant, something aching. “yeah,” he agrees, voice quieter. “we do.”

the silence stretches between you as he parks the car. you unbuckle your seatbelt, but neither of you make a move to get out. stuck stagnant.

“so, this is was fake...” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

jason’s fingers drum against the steering wheel, knuckles red. “yeah.”

you should leave it at that. you should forget the kiss. you should revert back to just his roommate. you should laugh it off, make some joke about how convincing you both were—but you don't—instead you say, “does it still feel fake to you? us...tonight?”

jason’s breath catches. for a long moment, he doesn’t answer. you almost let doubt seep in.

then, he turns, his eyes dark and searching. “god, no.”

your heart stutters in your chest, and you swallow hard, pulse roaring in your ears. “good. me neither.”

for a second, he just looks at you, like he’s waiting for you to take it back, to laugh it off. but you don’t, you won't. and when he leans in—slow, hesitant, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away—you don’t.

you decide to meet him halfway, instead.

writer’s note .☘︎ ݁˖ all of my thanks to the helpful, @sunnie-angel for being my beta reader for this fic! thank you again for your services—and your sweet comments on this little story, very very happy to have a moot like you !!!

🖇️ masterlist | askbox | recent works

[cheyisagirlkisser]

sevika.com..

➜┆ ↻ 𝙇𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜... ⟳ sevika x fem! camgirl reader

possible warnings on your browser: unofficial sugar mommy sevika who would go nuts over camgirl websites these days (as opposed to brothels in zaun), mechanic! sevika(who bffr is probably getting dirty cash from silco at his auto shop), 18+ content, masturbation (both), lingerie and vibrators, dirty talk.

Sevika is the type of person to make fun of the guys who actually think the stripper likes them. That is just who she is.

However, camgirls? Totally different story.

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Imagine it—Sevika walking through the door after a long day at work. Her muscles are aching, and she just wants to take a shower, collapse on her ratty couch, and send her hard-earned income to her favorite camgirl, you. With two fingers in her aching cunt, of course.

Meanwhile, you are in your comfy bedroom. You've got a mountain of pillows pushed back out of your iphone camera's view so you can be the main focus, and your cheeks are visibly dark with desire. You look right into the camera and lean forward, your tits nearly spilling out of the pretty, pink Victoria's Secret lingerie set you were able to buy with money that Sevika donated to you. Only slightly can the hundreds, if not thousands of viewers see a hint of pebbled skin, your nipple peeking out of the bra. You're a fucking tease, and your fans love it.

slipknot_slut commented: take off the bra for us, baby.

You squint your eyes to read the influx of comments, but that one stands out in particular. You huff out a teasing laugh, leaning slightly out of frame on purpose.

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onomatopoeiabitch22 commented: GIRL? WE LITERALLY PAY TO SEE THIS. SHOW US UR TITTIES.

ambessahub commented: i could eat you for protein

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And then, practically godsent, you see your favorite username.

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Sevika is already pumping her cunt tightly with her fingers, eyes transfixed on the way you begin to unclasp your bra, already knowing that she's got you. It nearly makes her laugh at the thought that you're such a huge slut for her, and you don't even know what she looks like. She knows it's the money, she isn't stupid. But you get so desperate, it makes both her heart and pussy warm from inside her cheap apartment, laid out on the couch with her phone tight in her grip. With shaky hands, she begins the bidding.

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Your eyes widen, and you finally throw your bra behind you haphazardly. You don't make Sevika wait like you do your other fans, grabbing the string attached to your panties around your hips and sliding the fabric down the wide expanse of your thighs.

"Fuuck.." Sevika curses underneath her breath when she is able to see the glistening wetness on your panties, simply because it catches on the light and the camera just barely picks it up. Regardless, she finds herself fucking herself at a harsher pace.

Your center your naked body back into frame, and your hand slides a vibrator right between your legs. Suddenly, Sevika isn't feeling good alone. Your clit pulses with each vibration, your moans exaggerated but real. Sevika wonders if you've been pent up. It may sound creepy, but Sevika has a knack for distinguishing your real moans from the dramatic, pornographic sounds that are truly from pleasuring yourself, but obviously aren't fully realistic.

The thought that you struggled to get off without Sevika on the livestream sends a pang of heat throughout her lower abdomen, and she tries to find a pace that matches yours. She can't help herself from wanting to talk to you, however.

iluvgamblingngirls commented: wish you could ride me into the mattress

iluvgamblingngirls has sent a donation of $500!

When you read Sevika's message, you let out a soft moan, allowing yourself to fall back onto the bed and spread your legs wider, growing desperate.

You don't know what it is about Sevika's messages and financial support, but it has an effect on you. It's the countless donations that go towards rent/groceries, lingerie for live streams, and expensive lotions to keep your skin smooth. It's the comments that do not hesitate to inform you of the filthy things Sevika wants to do to you. Ride her into the mattress. You shouldn't get yourself so heated over someone who is practically faceless to you, but you can't help it. You always react to her comments, and she knows it.

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You get no answer, but do not think much of it. You can only imagine a faceless, bodiless woman, cunt stuffed with herself as she struggles to type out her reply because she is on the edge of a cliff. Cute.

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At the same time, Sevika's body arches and her back stretches. She feels the hot pangs of pleasure pulse until it is her own heartbeat that she feels, still rapidly racing, but trying its hardest to come down. She nearly laughs at how carried away you were able to bring her.

iluvgamblingngirls has left a donation of $1,000.

You nearly fall off the bed when you read that. Sevika surely likes to take care of you, huh?

You manage to compose yourself and sit up, turning off the live stream. Sevika almost lets herself feel disappointed before ultimately freezing. An email about a friend request on the camgirl website. A friend request from you.

Sevika is in over her head.

[gaylovefish]

Practically all of the icons on the left are still used in many places, and not just obscure forums or outdated apps. All gacha games I've played use the funnel one. Firefox and Tumblr and my phone's default UI use the network one. The "send" ones are used for different things in different contexts (the one on the left is specifically for sending by email, the one on the right is more general). Saving and uploading to the cloud are also different things, so they usually have different symbols, and even then the cloud one showed here sucks ass wtf. I have never seen an entire smartphone used as a symbol for anything anywhere. The hamburger menu is like everywhere in websites. The wishlist ones are interchangeable. The speaker is used in every volume control I have ever seen. Why are people lamenting a tragedy they've merely imagined? Do you not have eyes? Do you not look at screens with your eyes? How can anyone miss this?

[pastlivesxpastlie]

Get Below Me vol 3 🖤

you and everyone’s baby boy, simp!roommate!Vessel spend some quality time on his bed after making out in the living room. and whatever you have saved to your phone DEFINITELY has his attention

simp!roommate!Vessel x virgin!fem!reader

Head’s up: consent checks, watching porn together, teasing, reader finally asks for what she wants, someone else finally strokes vessel’s cock other than himself

A/N: what will be finished first this weekend? The actual smut chapter or my sourdough?

🎀taglist: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @evisnotok @cheomain @chaosandchaos @sage-m-sepia @dreamer-lost-in-wonderland

You sat between Vessel’s legs on his bed, your hand shaking softly as you unlock your phone. His wide hands stroked your tummy as he placed little kisses behind your ear. “It’s ok to be shy.”

“I know…” you sigh. “But I’ve never…shown anyone what I’m into.”

Vessel chuckles softly, his breath tickling your neck. “And like I said, love, we can just talk…”

You start scrolling and breathing a little heavier. Obviously you’re turned on from making out with Ves but now you’re showing him your secret little “Fun Time” folder and it’s having a Pavlovian effect on you. “If I try to talk about it, I’ll start giggling again.”

But Vessel doesn’t respond, at least verbally. His cock throbbed against your lower back. You had already begun mindlessly scrolling through your folder, not realizing his eyes were glued to the screen. “That’s what you want, sweetheart,” he asks as you hover for a moment over a clip showing a girl getting bent over and playfully spanked by…whoever this guy was. But Ves did notice the man was quite tall and slender, not too dissimilar from him. Even in the next clip, which was just the close up of a guy fingering his very receptive, squirmy plaything, Vessel noticed how wide the man’s hands were. Spidery. Like his. “What excited you first…boys with big hands or just ones that look like me? Hmm?” He’s so turned on just knowing you get off to these videos but the idea that you could have saved them because the guys look like HIM…he could cum just from grinding against your lower back right now.

“Uhm,” you lay your head back on his shoulder, “hard to say I guess but…I can say for certain you’re my type. Definitely my type.”

“Hmm. Interesting…” he whispers as his breath catches. The next clip shows a girl with a body like yours getting folded in half and eaten out. The man in this one isn’t quite enough like Vessel for his liking before he remembers he has the real thing tucked up against him ready to eat out of his hand. “Such a shy little thing. I’ve been here the whole time,” he coos and tickles your sides. You toss your phone down and start giggling again. Giggling so hard your lungs feel like they’re on fire.

“Ves, that’s not fair!”

He finally stops and holds you close against him like a teddy bear. You both breathe heavily between small laughs. Vessel’s hand gently brushes your cheek, encouraging you to look back at him. When you do, your lips meet in soft little kisses. He leaves you breathless ever…single…time. “Y’have to remember, darling. You’re in control. It’s your night. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.” Vessel breathes heavily against your lips and moans softly. “And…if it’s too much or you don’t want something stop me. Please…”

“Can I suck you off?”

Vessel’s face heats up. “You up for that…?”

You’re already on your knees by the bed, gazing up at him. “I’m a visual learner,” you chuckle. You’re trying to be carefree and sexy but you’re so nervous. You want to do good for him…to make him happy. Make him cum the way you’ve imagined you could.

Ves sits on the edge of the bed in front of you and undoes his pants. “That’s so naughty, babe. You like watching your little videos, huh? Imagining that’s us?” He tsks and chuckles softly as he watches your mouth drop open and your eyes soften a little. “What’s the matter,” he teases. He drags his hand up the underside of his cock, letting your eyes trail from his heavy balls up to where his fingers now delicately rub at his leaking head.

“I’ve never…” you steel your nerves and come closer. You gingerly put out your hand touch Vessel’s cock. The warmth and weight of it in your fist causes a thick heat to spread from your pussy up to your stomach. This was so totally different from feeling him up over his pants. “This…this is so fucking cool.” As your hand moves up you take in Vessel’s reaction.

“Oh…sweetheart…” he bites his lip and grins as you stroke him. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You’re so lost in this new experience that you just want to experiment and see what you can do. Vessel is like a new, perfect toy.

[kathlare]

so american

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando experience an unforgettable night at the Super Bowl in New Orleans.

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

February 9th, 2025 - New Orleans, LA

liked by ln4nation, lanelieshippers, and others

ameliedaymandaily: Amelie was seen at the Super Bowl in New Orleans tonight, and according to people there, she’s with Lando, some of her friends, and her family! 👀🏈

View all 839 comments

jazzyn07: Lando and Amelie at the SUPER BOWL?! 😍💘 The vibes are unmatched

instaqueen22: Lando’s so obsessed with her, he literally can’t stop staring at her. 🔥🔥 → fanoflife25: @instaqueen22 She’s literally glowing. I get it, Lan. 😏 → instaqueen22: @instaqueen22 Their energy is literally unreal, I’m obsessed with them! 😩💘

musicfan4ever: Is it just me or are they lowkey always touching each other? Like every pic, every event. 🤔 → itsabreezey: @musicfan4ever It's not lowkey, babe, it's HIGHKEY. 😂🔥 They're inseparable.

theo_lover: Honestly, Amelie and Lando have been giving "it" for YEARS. They just needed the right time. 🥹🔥 → blondeboi: @theo_lover Literally. They’re out here making all of us believe in true love again. 😩

georgefan_34: Amelie lowkey makes Lando look like he’s on cloud 9 all the time. ☁️

lando4life: It’s the way they STILL flirt like they’re in the beginning stages of their relationship. 🥺💘 → livelaughlove33: @lando4life They’re so cute, it makes me believe in love again!! 😩💖

writergirl98: Lando’s literally glowing when he’s around Amelie. Like, he’s SO into her. 🔥 → driverfan94: @driverfan94 He’s been into her since DAY ONE, sis. We all knew it. 😌

sundayswithgeorge: Lando and Amelie really made us wait for this relationship, huh? But damn, was it worth it. 💯 → f1fanatic101: @sundayswithgeorge We waited YEARS for this. And now they're living their best life. 😭✨

sportsbabe_22: He’s literally obsessed with her. It’s adorable. 💖

-------------

The Super Bowl.

The pinnacle of American sports culture, the grand spectacle that blended athleticism with pure, unfiltered entertainment. And for the first time, Lando Norris was right in the middle of it.

He had always understood the hype, of course. Even back home, the Super Bowl was an event. People threw parties, pubs filled up, and he’d even watched a few games over the years—especially when Max dragged him into betting pools. But this? Actually being there, in the heart of New Orleans, inside a massive stadium packed with screaming fans? This was something else entirely.

Lando was sitting comfortably in the plush seats of a private suite, his arm lazily draped around Amelie’s shoulders as she snuggled into him, her legs tucked up underneath her. It was everything Lando had imagined, and yet, it felt surreal. New Orleans was buzzing with energy. The sound of the crowd outside reverberated through the walls, but the suite was an oasis of luxury and exclusivity.

Amelie’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of her chair as she watched the pre-game show on the large screen, her eyes flicking to Lando every now and then. He was looking around the suite, clearly soaking it all in, but with his usual touch of British reserve. He tried to look casual, but there was something in the way he kept shifting, like he couldn’t quite believe he was here.

—Don’t tell me you’re nervous,— Amelie teased, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

Lando shot her a sideways glance, smirking. —Nervous? Who’s nervous?— he scoffed. —I just don’t understand how you Americans can make a sport so dramatic.—

Amelie let out a laugh, her voice a soft melody. —It’s not just a sport, Lan, it’s the sport.— She nudged him with her shoulder playfully. —You’ll get into it. You just need the right energy.—

Lando grinned, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. —I’m just here for the halftime show and to watch you enjoy yourself. I’ll leave the play-by-play to you.—

—Oh, baby, you are so American,— Lando hummed, lips brushing against the side of her head as he quoted the song that had been playing in the car on their way to the stadium.

Amelie scoffed, tilting her head up to look at him, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. —Excuse me? You do realize I’m Mexican, right? And last time I checked, I still have my Mexican passport.—

—Sure, sure,— Lando drawled, his fingers playing with the delicate bracelet on her wrist. —But look at you, sitting here all hyped for the Super Bowl, explaining plays to me like an ESPN commentator, drinking some... what even is that?— He gestured at the drink in her other hand.

—It’s a margarita, Lan. Jesus.—

—Right, of course it is,— Lando chuckled, shaking his head. —So American of you.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, but the grin on her lips betrayed her amusement. —You’re the worst.—

—And yet, you love me,— he shot back smoothly, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

Amelie exhaled dramatically, as if he was exhausting, but her fingers absentmindedly traced circles on his thigh, a silent admission of just how much she did, in fact, love him.

—Unfortunately,— she sighed with exaggerated defeat, —I do.—

Lando laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest, and he squeezed her closer. Their relationship had always been this—playful, effortless, like the years of tension and miscommunication had never existed. They were friends first, and even now, with the weight of love between them, that foundation remained solid.

The suite was lively, filled with Amelie’s family and a handful of close friends. Her dad, Elias, had arranged everything, as he always did, ensuring that each of his children had enough seats to bring whoever they wanted. It was an unspoken rule that no matter where they were in the world, if the Eagles made it to the Super Bowl, the Dayman family showed up.

—Okay, let’s be clear on one thing,— Amelie said, turning in her seat to fully face Lando. —I’m not a die-hard football fan or anything, but the Eagles are my team. Our team. Family tradition. So you, as my very loving boyfriend, are also supporting the Eagles tonight.—

Lando raised an amused brow. —That so? And what happens if I don’t?—

She narrowed her eyes. —Then you can find your own way back to Monaco.—

—Oh, harsh.— He grinned, but he still pulled her in closer, dropping a kiss to her lips, slow and teasing. —Fine, fine. Go Eagles, or whatever.—

—Good boy,— she murmured against his lips before pulling away with a smirk.

They didn’t notice Elysia staring at them from across the suite, arms crossed, a knowing look on her face.

—You two are disgustingly in love,— she commented, wrinkling her nose. —It’s painful to witness.—

Jack, seated beside her, nodded in agreement. —Seriously, can you go like… ten minutes without making out? Just an idea.—

Amelie only smirked, stealing another kiss from Lando in defiance. —Absolutely not.—

Lando, ever the instigator, grinned and pulled Amelie onto his lap, making her laugh as she straddled him slightly. —Sorry, Jack, but your sister’s a menace, what can I do?—

Jack groaned. —I fucking hate this guy.—

Elysia only sighed. —Unfortunately, he’s growing on me.—

—Thank you, Elysia. That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received from you,— Lando said, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.

Before they could continue their bickering, the game finally kicked off. The stadium roared with life, the energy electric. Amelie immediately perked up, her eyes flickering between the field and the massive screen above. Lando, though not nearly as invested, found himself watching her more than the game.

She was enthralled, her lips parted slightly as she muttered things under her breath, her hand gripping his thigh whenever a play got too intense. It was adorable.

—You’re really into this, huh?— he teased, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear.

—Shut up, it’s the adrenaline,— she whispered back, not taking her eyes off the field.

Lando chuckled, but his hand found its way under the hem of her sweater, resting warm against her skin.

As the game went on, Amelie’s reactions got bigger—groans when the Eagles messed up, loud cheers when they scored. At one point, when the Eagles pulled off a particularly incredible play, she turned to Lando with wide eyes, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him, excitement overriding any sense of self-restraint.

Lando hummed against her lips, his hand instinctively gripping her waist as he kissed her back. —Are we celebrating, or is this just an excuse to snog me?— he murmured.

—Both.— She grinned, stealing another peck before turning back to the game.

—Fuck, I love American football.—

Jack groaned again. —Jesus Christ, get a room.—

The game continued, the night unfolding in a perfect mixture of sport, teasing, and stolen kisses. By the time the halftime show began, Amelie was curled up into Lando’s side again, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her arm.

—Alright, I’ll admit it,— Lando said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. —This is kinda fun.—

Amelie smiled, looking up at him. —Told you.—

And as the music boomed through the stadium, lights flashing, the crowd alive with energy, Lando realized something—he didn’t care much for the game, but he’d go to a hundred Super Bowls if it meant spending nights like this with Amelie.

-------------

-------------

The energy in the Superdome was electric as the final whistle blew. The Eagles had done it. 40-22. A dominant win. Amelie’s family erupted into cheers, her dad clapping so hard it echoed through the suite, her brothers shouting, and Stella jumping up and down with Elysia.

Amelie?

Well, Amelie was in Lando’s arms, screaming at the top of her lungs.

—WE FUCKING WON!— she yelled, her voice hoarse from hours of screaming, but the victory had only fueled her enthusiasm. She grabbed Lando’s face, pressing a hard, sloppy kiss against his lips before pulling away and shaking his shoulders. —Did you see that?! Did you see how we fucking destroyed them?!—

Lando, who had seen every second of the game but had spent a good portion of it distracted by his girlfriend being all over him, chuckled. —Yeah, baby, I saw.—

—My family team, Lan. Since I was a baby. A baby!— Amelie gushed, throwing her arms around his neck again. The alcohol was hitting her hard now, and Lando could feel her weight pressing against him. She smelled like margaritas and expensive perfume, her warm body molding against his like she had no bones.

—Alright, drunkie, let’s get you out of here before you embarrass yourself,— Lando murmured into her ear, but she ignored him completely, turning to Callum instead.

—CALLUM! LET'S GO TO PHILLY! WE HAVE TO GO CELEBRATE IN THE STREETS!— she practically screamed.

Callum, who was also drunk but far more composed, smirked. —You’d be dead in five minutes.—

—Oh please, they’d love me,— Amelie dismissed with a wave of her hand, her other still gripping Lando’s shirt like she needed him to stay upright.

Lando sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. She was so cute like this, all wild energy and bright smiles, but fuck, she was going to be a menace.

He let her celebrate with her family for a few more minutes before gently tugging her towards the exit. —Come on, princesa, time to go.—

—But, Lan—

—No buts.— He slung an arm around her waist, guiding her toward the suite exit, nodding at her family as they laughed knowingly. They’d seen Amelie like this before. Lando, however, was about to experience the full force of drunk Amelie in public for the first time.

The hallway was crowded with VIP guests, security, and event staff, and Amelie was talking. A lot.

—Oh my God, babe, do you know what we should do?— she suddenly gasped, gripping his bicep dramatically.

Lando braced himself. —What, baby?—

—Have sex in the car.—

Lando nearly choked on air.

—Jesus Christ, Amelie,— he hissed, looking around to make sure no one had heard.

Unfortunately, Hayes Grier had just stepped out of another suite nearby and was now grinning like an absolute menace.

—Oh, please continue,— Hayes said, amused.

—Shut the fuck up, Hayes,— Lando groaned, shifting Amelie closer to him in an attempt to shut her up.

—No, but listen, Lan,— Amelie insisted, completely oblivious to Hayes presence as she leaned up, whispering (way too loudly) in his ear. —It would be so hot. Like, imagine, I’m wearing this little dress, and you’re all over me—

Lando slapped a hand over her mouth. —Okay! We’re done here.—

Amelie wiggled in his grasp, mumbling something against his palm.

—You’re going to regret this when you’re sober,— he muttered into her ear as he all but dragged her toward the elevators.

—Lan, let me go, I need to tell you something—

—Nope.—

—Lando, I swear to God—

—You’re drunk, Ames, let’s get you out of here before you end up on the internet saying something insane.—

As if on cue, a few guests and staff members were sneaking glances at them. Some had their phones out.

Lando pulled his cap lower over his face and tightened his grip on her waist. Amelie, however, was still on a mission.

—Oh my God, look at that guy... he’s totally checking me out,— she suddenly whispered, giggling.

Lando stiffened immediately. —Who?—

—There, in the blue jacket,— she whispered, pressing closer against him. —Should I wink at him?—

—Amelie, I swear to fuck...— Lando turned, ready to burn holes into this mystery man, but there was no one there.

—Oh my God, I got you so good!— Amelie cackled, leaning against him for support.

Lando groaned. —You are insufferable.—

—And yet, you love me,— she grinned, echoing his words from earlier.

He sighed, unable to stop himself from smiling as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. —Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you in the car before you start stripping or something.—

Amelie gasped. —You think I’d strip in public?! I have class, Lando.—

Lando opened the door to the private exit, leading them outside where their cars were waiting. He looked down at her with an unimpressed expression. —Amelie, last week, you tried to take your shirt off in a restaurant because you got hot from eating spicy wings.—

She blinked up at him. —That was different.—

Lando shook his head, chuckling as he guided her into the car. As soon as they were inside, Amelie curled up against him, her lips pressing lazy kisses against his jaw.

—Mmm, you smell nice.—

—Thank you, baby.—

—We should still have sex in the car.—

Lando groaned, laughing despite himself. He tucked her closer against him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

—Go to sleep, mi amor. You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning.—

Amelie just hummed in response, already halfway there.

[asheepinfrance]

patrick blurb because valentines day. its short and hopefully a little sweet. im soso sorry that this isnt longer, i have two other things i can hopefully get out soon but i write everything day of (stupid) and am traveling so took no time out to write (stupider). regardless i hope you enjoy. as always, comments and critiques are welcome.

If there’s one thing Patrick is, at least with you, it’s a horrible liar. The poor man couldn’t get away with fibbing to save his life. Not that being bad at dishonesty is an issue, in fact, it’s quite the opposite, but there have been times where it would’ve been a welcome presence in your relationship. He couldn’t even lie about liking those jeans you’d picked off the rack, even though it was fairly clear you wanted them, despite claiming that you just couldn’t make up your mind on them. 

So, when he calls and says, “Babe… can you believe that they just extended tour?” you decide to humor him just this once. For one, the excuse was a weak one, and made little to no sense if you thought about it for more than a second or two, but you could just hear the smug ass grin he was wearing. He thinks he’s a genius.

You feign a sigh, twirling the drawstring of your hoodie around your pointer finger before placing it in the seam of your lips. You mumble something about ‘Oh, baby, that’s just terrible’ because, frankly, he’s not the type to care about your less than convincing acting job as long as he’s getting the reaction he wants in general. He’s complaining about needing to book a new hotel, something that he’s actually willing to pay for himself, when he barges into your room and manages to nearly scare you off your bed. He’s got that same stupid grin on his face that you’d previously imagined, now holding his arms wide as if to present himself to you. “This’ll do.”

You’re taking too long to process for his liking, because he drops his bags with a heavy thud, completely uncaring for the equipment stored inside, and makes his way towards you. You can’t manage anything, not the ‘How did you get in here?’ that you should definitely concern yourself with, just a soft murmur of “Patrick…” before throwing yourself at him as hard as you can manage to. He’s strong, noticeably stronger since the last time you saw him about three months ago, and manages to catch your weight with such ease it hardly looks like you weigh a thing. 

The past few days had been hard, as he’d let you know through several hours-long phone calls, but god, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes. The way his smile softens says it all, and he’s just breathing in your presence, your scent, the hints of perfume lingering on the fabric of your hoodie. He’s right at home with it. He knows that when the moment’s through, and the shock’s worn off, you’ll be ashamed by your choice of outfit, your lack of makeup, the mess of hair on your head. He thinks it’s the most beautiful he’s ever seen you, and he didn’t think you could get better than perfection, but here he is, pressed against it. 

He’s got to be uncomfortable, kneeling at your bedside this long, but he can put that aside for now. Right now, he’s with his girl for the first time in the longest three months of his life and he’s not letting go, knees be damned. He presses a few kisses wherever he can manage to reach, and the laugh you let out when you feel his lips just above yours is enough to send him reeling. It sounds so much clearer here than over the phone. He’d thought you were radiant then, even through a screen, but now? Now he’s just about certain you’re made of more light than each star combined. He’d tell you that if he could, but with his habit of saying things just slightly less eloquently than he means to, he opts for just saying “I missed you”.

You know him. Know he means a lot more than he can properly express with his way of speaking. He’s got a lot of ways of showing it, at least. Falling asleep next to a propped up phone, listening to his breathing grow slower, steadier. Finding little notes from month-old visits in odd corners of your room, scrawled in his signature chicken-scratch only you can manage to decode. The way he holds you like you’re fragile and looks at you like too much exposure to his presence could damage you, despite it doing just the opposite, tells you what you needs to know. He means he loves you.

You breathe out a laugh, one that your shoulders raise with.

“Yeah… missed you, too.”

[leaderwon]

VALENTINE'S DAY WITH JAY

Synopsis : Jay plans a fancy Valentine's dinner, but when things go hilariously wrong, it becomes the most memorable evening of your lives.

Warnings : mild culinary mishaps, chaos, physical touch, mentions of fire

Wc : 3.8k+

masterlist

The scent of roses filled your apartment as you carefully adjusted the hem of your dress, smoothing out the faint creases with trembling fingers. It was Valentine’s Day, and Jay had promised a night to remember. Knowing his penchant for luxury and perfection, you imagined a beautifully orchestrated evening, a candlelit dinner at a high end restaurant, impeccable service, and a bouquet of roses bigger than your head.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Grinning, you rushed to open it, revealing Jay standing there, dressed in a tailored navy suit that hugged his frame perfectly. His hair was styled neatly, and in his hands was a small but elegant bouquet of red tulips.

“Hey” he greeted, his eyes shining as he took you in. “You look breathtaking.” “And you look, wow” you breathed, taking a moment to appreciate the effort he had put in.

He chuckled, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

The evening began smoothly. Jay drove with the confidence of someone who had memorized the city’s streets, the car filled with soft music and the occasional banter. He mentioned that he had reserved a table at a fancy rooftop restaurant with a stunning view of the skyline. Your heart fluttered at the thought, everything was unfolding like a scene from a romance movie.

But life had other plans.

As you approached the restaurant, Jay’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting from relaxed to mildly frustrated.

“What is it?” you asked, sensing the change. “The restaurant had a kitchen mishap. They’re canceling all reservations for the night.” He exhaled sharply, clearly annoyed. “I’m so sorry. I wanted this to be perfect.” You placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “Hey, it’s okay. We can figure something out. It’s not about the place, it’s about being with you.”

He smiled, though the disappointment lingered in his eyes. “Thanks. Let me think for a second.”

After a moment of contemplation, Jay’s eyes lit up with determination. “How do you feel about a home-cooked meal? My place isn’t far from here.” You grinned. “That sounds perfect.”

Jay’s apartment was immaculate, as always. The minimalist decor was complemented by warm lighting, and the faint scent of cedarwood lingered in the air. He quickly rolled up his sleeves, revealing toned forearms that made your heart skip a beat.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll whip something up” he said confidently.

You settled on the couch, scrolling through your phone while soft music played from the speakers. Every now and then, you stole glances at Jay in the kitchen. He moved with practiced ease, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces like a seasoned chef.

“Need any help?” you offered. He shook his head with a playful smirk. “I got this. Just sit back and relax.”

Everything seemed to be going well until the smoke alarm blared unexpectedly. You jumped up in surprise, eyes wide as smoke wafted from the oven. “Jay!” “I know, I know!” he groaned, frantically waving a towel to disperse the smoke.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him, the epitome of cool and collected now battling a culinary disaster.

“This is not how I imagined tonight going” he muttered, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “Honestly, this is kind of amazing” you giggled. “I’ll never forget this.” He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips. “Glad one of us is having fun.”

After airing out the kitchen and salvaging what they could of the meal, Jay set up a makeshift picnic in the living room. He spread out a blanket on the floor and arranged the slightly charred food on plates. “Bon appetit” he said with a sheepish grin.

You clinked your glasses together. “To memorable Valentine’s nights.”

Despite the chaos, the food tasted surprisingly good. You both laughed over the mishaps and shared stories, the atmosphere light and filled with warmth.

“You know” Jay said between bites, “this might not have gone according to plan, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” “Me neither” you agreed. “It’s perfectly imperfect, just like us.”

He reached for your hand, his gaze sincere. “Thank you for being so understanding. You make everything better.” Your heart swelled at his words. “And you make life so much more fun.”

The night ended with you both curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over you as a classic rom com played on the TV. Jay’s arm was wrapped securely around you, his steady heartbeat lulling you into a state of contentment.

“Happy Valentine’s Day” he whispered. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Jay.”

It wasn’t the night you had envisioned, but it was one you would cherish forever, filled with love, laughter, and the beautiful unpredictability that made life with Jay so extraordinary.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[brainddeadd]

Valentine’s Day

Pre-kiss and getting together

Valentine’s Day had arrived, and while the rest of the world seemed to be caught up in romantic dinners and flower deliveries, you were comfortably nestled in the Hughes’ apartment with your favorite guys—Jack, Luke, Nico, and Dawson. A perfect recipe for an anti-Valentine’s celebration: an evening of friendship, chocolate, and classic rom-coms.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you sprawled across the couch, a colorful blanket thrown over your lap. Heart-shaped boxes of chocolates surrounded you, courtesy of Jack, who insisted that no Valentine’s Day celebration would be complete without copious amounts of sugar.

“You guys ready for a movie marathon?” you asked, holding up the DVD cases of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days and Pretty Woman.

Dawson leaned back in his seat, munching on a chocolate-covered strawberry. “Can we just appreciate the fact that we’re all single and have each other? Who needs a partner?”

Luke snorted. “Honestly, at least we don’t have to worry about finding a gift or booking a reservation.”

“Or listening to cheesy love songs,” Jack added, rolling his eyes.

Nico chuckled, pouring a bowl of popcorn. “This is the most low-stress Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

The night kicked off with How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, and soon the apartment was filled with laughter and playful banter. You settled comfortably between Jack and Luke, feeling the warmth of camaraderie around you.

“You know, I think I could pull off the whole ‘what not to do’ strategy,” you said, glancing at Dawson as Kate Hudson’s character made all the wrong moves with Matthew McConaughey’s character.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Jack teased, nudging you playfully. “You could scare any guy away in ten minutes.”

“You underestimate my charm,” you replied, feigning offense.

Nico shook his head with a smile. “I’d pay to see you try.”

As the movie continued, you found yourself chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all. The boys were no help, constantly throwing in their own commentary and quips.

“That’s not how you win a guy over,” Jack declared dramatically as the main character made another blunder.

“What’s wrong with being bold?” you shot back, laughing. “It’s better than being boring.”

“True, but we can’t all pull off a bold move like that,” Luke replied, gesturing dramatically like the characters on screen.

After the credits rolled, you all dove into the chocolates, and Luke picked up a piece, holding it out to you like a knight offering a treasure. “For the fairest of them all,” he said, laughing.

You giggled, accepting the piece. “How sweet of you! But I can’t help but notice that the fairest one here is obviously me.”

As the second movie, Pretty Woman, started, the vibe shifted. You all settled in, caught up in the charm of Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. The classic romance was a favorite, and you couldn’t help but feel a little envious of the whirlwind love story.

“Could you imagine being taken on a shopping spree like that?” Dawson mused, a wistful look on his face.

“Only if it comes with a fancy hotel room,” Jack chimed in. “Or maybe a sports car.”

Nico laughed. “I think you just want an excuse to drive a nice car.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Jack shot back with a grin.

As the film continued, you could feel the lightheartedness in the air. The guys were incredibly protective and supportive, but they also knew how to make you feel included and cherished.

“If anyone tries to date you, we’ll scare them off,” Luke declared, feigning a serious expression. “We’ll form a protective brotherhood.”

“A brotherhood that eats chocolates and watches rom-coms?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Dawson replied, laughing. “That’s our secret weapon.”

“Well, if you guys scare them away, I’ll just send them to you,” you said, playfully winking. “You can deal with all the awkwardness.”

The night wore on, filled with more laughter and plenty of snacking. As the credits rolled on Pretty Woman, you all settled back into the couch, feeling the comfortable weight of friendship envelop you.

“This was the best Valentine’s Day,” you said, leaning back against the couch, your heart full.

Jack grinned, raising a chocolate-covered strawberry. “To friendship, and the best anti-Valentine’s crew!”

“To us!” everyone cheered, clinking their snacks together in a toast.

“And to no drama!” Nico added, laughing.

The night ended with a game of charades, more laughter, and a reminder that sometimes the best love is the love shared among friends. As you fell asleep that night, surrounded by your teammates, you knew this Valentine’s Day was one you’d always cherish—a day of friendship, laughter, and the warmth of knowing you had your very own family in the New Jersey Devils.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Miss Sunshine 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Nick Fowler

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Nick and Cloudy.

Summary: a bored man needs a new light in his life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Nick has a lot of habits. Some would call it a routine. His work is often unpredictable so his personal life needs to be tightly curated.

His new habit is her. He knows he shouldn't. That he's abusing his security clearance and his professional access. He knows that he is in dangerous territory but he's always thrived there.

Unusual territory for sure. He's a bit too old to be in the campus cafe but one might assume he's faculty, not pupil. He imagines that line of work might be boring. Safer, sure, but he's not sure he could bear the monotony.

She's at the corner table with her small tea. The cheapest thing on the menu. She counted out nickels just to purchase it then got a dirty look from the barista for having to pour hot water without a tip.

She pores over a textbook as she nurses the brew. She's oblivious to everything else going on. To him. It might be why she finds herself in such a downtrodden state much of the time.

Her phone lights up. She looks at it and frowns. She shakes her head and goes back to reading. She makes notes in her notebook, roll her hand to stretch her wrist as her fingers cramp. He can't say she doesn't try.

Her cell buzzes again and she blows through her lips and pops her head up. She swipes it up and reads the screen. Her face falls. He subtly slides his own phone from his pocket. He can see her messages on his screen. An old work trick.

'Call me. Now.'

It's from Jackie, her aunt. From his observation, he knows that's her aunt. She lives in her spare room so she can afford her classes. They don't have a very good relationship.

She closes up her books and slides them into her knapsack. She drapes it over her shoulder and her jacket over her forearm as she gets up. She knocks the table and sends the dregs of her tea all over the floor, spilling some down her jeans. She hangs her head and cleans it up. She wads up napkins as she only manages to spread it around. She gives up and apologises to the disproving employee behind the counter before fleeing.

He takes out an earbud and puts it in. She hurries out, a dot on his screen, and he flips through his apps. His Bluetooth picks up her call as her aunt picks up.

"I've been calling," the woman chides.

"I know. Sorry, I'm studying--"

"You have lots of time to study. And to find a new place."

"What?" She blurts out.

"Eh, well, your cousin needs to move back--"

"But-- but I've been paying you--"

"It barely covers the light bill," her aunt snips.

"But I buy my own food and--"

"It's too bad. What am I supposed to do, put my own child out on the street?" She huffs.

"When--"

"This week. You need to start packing."

"This week? How am I supposed to--"

"You're an adult," she derides. "You are just like your mother. I knew this was going to be a problem."

The line clicks. The call's over. Nick sneers and snags someone's gaze. They shy away as they mistake his spite as being aimed at them. He gets up and goes back to the map.

Her mother isn't any better. He's seen their messages. She's on pills even though she denies it. She burned bridges with the rest of the family. Her sister has every right to be upset. He went through months of messages. Still, the sins of the mother don't belong to the daughter. He's no stranger to cruelty, not in his line of work, but he doesn't see how anyone could be mean to her.

This is a problem. Not just for her. He can't just watch her be tossed out and yet, how can unveil himself without giving away the game? Watching is what he does.

He hears her crying before he sees her. She's at the bottom of some stairs, hiding as she mops her face. She doesn't hear him. He doesn't want her too. He needs to figure out how to finagle this. Maybe a fake ad? An email? Campus services always sends out housing stuff... He'll figure it out.

Her shoulders shake as she sobs. His chest pangs. She looks so frail down there. She leans into the wall and hugs her bag. Nothing else has gone right for her but maybe he can be the one thing that does.

Shit. Now his phone is going. He quickly retreats before the vibration can give him away. He pushes through a door and eases it shut behind him. He answers.

"Fowler?" The voice on the other end greets. He furrows his brows. Strange, he hasn't heard from Jensen in years. Not since they worked together.

"Jensen, long time."

"Sure has been," the other man agrees. "I... I have a favour to ask you."

"Really?" Nick taps his chin as his brain sparks. Jensen has a talent for tech and he's clever to boot. "Just so happens, I have one too."

[shysuccubusstuff]

Xavier meeting the real you pt. 1:

Summary: So what if Xavier finally met the real you?

Note: Lately, I've seen several tiktoks of people talking about how the men of L&DS wouldn't look their way if they were actually real... WHICH I DISAGREE. Happy Valentines day by the way, I've been so busy and uni has barely started...

Xavier:

Xavier, who just as he is about to finish killing the last Wanderer gets swallowed by a strange portal, the light at the end blinding him for a few seconds. As he slowly got used to the new source of light, he soon noticed something. The place he had appeared was definitely not the place he had known before. Slowly, he got up, his legs almost giving up as he slowly looked out the window at the room, the few things that he was able to see were much different from what he had seen before. The buildings were much shorter, even if the cars and people that he was able to see were similar to the ones he had grown accustomed to see. Finally, he turned around, seeing you in your bed. Your face was completely flushed, trying your best to accommodate the few strands of hair that were falling in your hair while you used your other hand to try and hide your (slightly) shameful pyjamas from him. Your mouth had become completely dry, your phone still in your hand as you tried to stop yourself from screaming at the top of your lungs.

"... Where am I?" Xavier finally spoke, his hands still wrapped around his sword, his hunter uniform torn in a few places. "Who are you?" His voice sounded strangely familiar, almost as if you were listening to the first chapters of the story you loved so much.

"I... What in the...?" You slowly looked towards the screen, noticing how the game had suddenly crashed, a strange screen freezing the game just before you finished the stage. "I... I don't know, I really don't know, I was... I was doing my... and suddenly you were... you were here! With your... your sword, and your-- your uniform, and that... that shiny grey hair-- Anyways! I really have no clue how you-- you moved out." You kept trying to get the game to restart, opening and closing the game as an attempt to maybe... get an error and reset everything? At the same time, you kept pinching yourself, how could you evnen imagine having THE Xavier, the pretty boy next door in your own room in the middle of the night? Xavier slowly blinked, almost as if he had started to comprehend the situation he was in.

"I suppose this must be some kind of... effect of the protocore field. Since my phone doesn't even work, I suppose I will try to find somewhere to stay for now, I'm sure I will be able to find somewhere nearby." Just as Xavier was about to leave your room, you grabed him by his gloved hand, your body moving towards him as if you were the one inside the game.

"Wait! I think you should stay, I doubt your phone even works here, how am I supposed to find you? I can let you stay here, my room is fine-- Or maybe the sofa? I don't really know which one you prefer." Xavier stood confused for a second, finally deciding that your idea was the most plausible one, deciding to accept, apologising for the inconvenience as he finally hid his sword. "You should take a bath, I can try to search for some clothes that could fix you? I'll get to it, the bathroom is next to the--Oh right, you have no idea, I will show you the apartment" You quickly got up, ignoring the stupid pajama you had decided to wear that night since it was the confiest, after all, who would see you like that?...

Anyways, you moved around your small flat with Xavier following you behind, his face making small expressions each time you showed him something that he had never seen before. As soon as you finished showing him, you left him in the living room, almost running to your room to search around your wardrobe, finally being able to see some oversized clothes you had bought a few weeks ago. As soon as you gave them to him, he thanked you, making his way towards the bathroom. That was when you finally noticed something, the uniform had been torned, with a few of them even reaching his skin, the bleeding had already stopped, but the wound was still there. "If... If you don't mind, I would like to heal your wounds, I think they can get infected because of the battle." Xavier's eyes fixed on you, almost being able to tell what he was thinking just from the slight change on his gaze.

"That's fine, I will let you know when I'm done." With that finally set and done, the two of you moved to where you had to, with you still trying your best to understand just what the hell had happened with the game. A few minutes after, Xavier called out to you, making you get up from your bed so you could take the kit, rushing to where Xavier was. Shortly after entering the living room, you noticed something, Xavier was sitting on the sofa, his whole chest being unclothed as a few drops of water still fell from his hair. You swallowed, trying your best to avoid screeching as if you were some kind of animal in heat. After all, you would have been completely allowed to do so in your room, still, you clenched your fist, taking a deep breath as you sat down in the sofa, silently, you opened the kit, taking out the hydrogen peroxide and starting to disinfect the numerous wounds that were covering his arms and chest. You were confused, your mind rushing as you tried to find a reason why would Xavier do something like that for someone like Xavier to be able to undress himself like that.

"I'm sorry for annoying you once more." Xavier kept quite for a few minutes, the silence only being broken each time he let out a low hiss when the sting became too much. "This must be uncomfortable. After all, we met just a few minutes ago, I know this sounds crazy, but you remind me of... a certain someone." Xavier smiled softly, making your heart ache a bit as you realised that his memories were still filled with memories of the fictional "you". You hurried your hands, trying your best to not feel your heart slowly break as you kept reminding yourself of just how different you were from the you in game. Despite your poor attempt, Xavier was able to notice the change in your demeanor, his eyes drifting to your face as he saw you. "I did not mean that in a wrong way, I'm sorry if that was rude." Xavier clenched his hands, his expression changing to one of concern. "I... I'm just worried, I left her there, in the protofield, she's more than capable of fighting alone, I know that--" You were finally done with the small treatment, closing the kit as Xavier kept talking about the charming you he had fallen in love with.

"It's normal that you're worried about her, she's... your lover I assume." Xavier's face reddened for a moment, making him almost choke on the glass of water you had brought to him. At the same time, he looked confused, how was it possible for someone that seemed to be from a completely different universe to know so much about his reality? Still, he smiled with kindness, taking the sweater you had given to him as soon as you were done. "I will take my leave, you can sleep here, I left a few blankets, let's talk tomorrow. Rest well." You rushed to your room with the kit still in your hands. You left it in your desk, your eyes starting to get a bit wet because of the heartache you felt. You knew it didn't make sense, but how could you not react like that after you had finally meet the person you considered to be the love of your life? (At least if he had been actually real...). Confused by the past hour events, you threw yourself to your bed, trying your best to fall asleep without the soft voice of that sweet silver haired boy.

[james-potters-biggest-fan]

More quotes from me and my friends as Marauders

i laughed reading most of these

theres like 2 that reference american politics but their funnier to me if u imagine these british teens talking abt politics from a country they dont live in

*a math problem comes on the tv*

Mary: ugh thats worse than blood on the screen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pandora: James and Lily have their amazon linked, so I have to order this for her

Evan: I never understood linking your accounts

Barty: yeah, how are you supposed to hide things from each other

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

McGonagall, to the Marauders: I’m just thinking about having a grandson like you. no thank you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

McGonagall: On november 20th your president is coming to class.

Sirius: Obama???

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barty: Sometimes when I’m stressed, I think I should do cocaine

Regulus: I don’t think that would help with the stress

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marlene: I’m learning this in my womens class-

Sirius: I don’t wanna hear you talk about women anymore.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Regulus: I’m really tired

James: I can tell from your …your bags in your eyes. your baggy eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James: Mom did you hear that? Moony told me to kill myself

Effie: It was kinda funny

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary: Whenever I think about Kamala Harris I just wanna jork it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evan: As we know, women are stupid and can’t think on their own

Dorcas: And whores!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lily: Imagine walking into the ER on Christmas like “i have a Christmas tree in my bagina 😔”

Evan: I don’t have to imagine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pandora: I’m curious what mental disability you have. I can tell you’re neurodivergent just from reading your post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dorcas: I’m learning about women in American history so I can know what women to erase from history

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius, to Walburga, about Remus: Mom don’t make fun of his mullet, its what makes him beautiful.”m

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus: Y’know what i think people need to start calling each other again? Freakass. /pos

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barty: I don’t believe everypony should have rights.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius to Regulus after he had an asthma attack and almost passed out: it’s like anemia and asthma are making love inside your body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James: Unpopular opinion, I love Arbys.

Peter: Barbies?

James: ARBYS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius driving, seeing Evan and Barty: Are they your friends?

Regulus: they’re alright.

Sirius: Should I hit them?

Regulus: yeah.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James: Finish your crepes.

Marlene: I’ll finish your mom. I’ve had lots of practice.

James: I HATE you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



James: I don’t know how to make rice on a stove

Peter: You just…put water

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pandora: Thats why I think I’m an extra terrestrial being

Evan: I think you’re just autistic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James: I’m a homemaker.

Monty: You got one word right. homo.

James: YOU’RE a homo maker actually

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus: This year I’m getting boy pregnant at prom!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius: I struggle to look at Regulus when I talk because of the nausea

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lily: Am i listening to pop music because im depressed, or am i depressed because i’m listening to pop music

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walburga, at some point: I think being vegan is worse than being gay.

[gretavanflame]

Baby Breathe

Jake Kiszka x Reader (f)

Cw: SMUT including: vulgar phone sex, use of pet names, mutual masturbation, rough penetration, technically exhibitionism but like not really I swear, slight pining

Word Count: 1.4k

“Hey baby” his voice is a low whisper, sounding gravely over the phone and quiet enough not to be heard by the other boys on the tour bus. 

“Hey Jake!” You blink the sleep from your eyes, sitting up to lean against the wall.

“I miss you so much.”

Jake closes his eyes, a smile creeping on his face as he hears your sleepy mumble. 

“I miss you too.” He sighs, sounding tired as well. He pauses. You can hear his breathing, and it sounds like he’s just walked up a long flight of stairs.

“What time is it for you, cupcake?” 

“Umm…” You check your phone screen. “Almost 12 am here.”

“Oh shit-” he chuckles. He sounds exhausted and his deep voice is a steady rumble. “I didn’t mean to make you stay up late. Please forgive me.”

You giggle at his charm and the way he so effortlessly makes you smitten. 

“What time is it for you?” 

“It’s almost 2. We just got back, but I wanted to call you before I went to bed.”

You hear him shift on the tour bus cot. 

“I miss you so fucking much y/n. You know that right?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much. The house just feels so empty without you. Are you doing okay? You sound tired.”

“Yeah we’re all good here- just a long day is all. Wanted to talk to my favorite girl.”

You roll over to the side of your bed, holding the phone right up to your ear in the pitch black room, smiling so hard you feel like your lips might fall off. 

“Well I want to talk to my favorite boy.”

You wait for his response, closing your eyes to conjure up an image of your sweet man when you hear something that grabs your attention. A moan- the softest sound, drifting gracefully off his tongue. You freeze, positive you’ve imagined it but straining your ears to hear it again. After just a beat, it comes- this time with a sort of desperate breathy quality. Your thighs clamp together. 

“What are you wearing?” he chokes, sounding half desperate.

“I’m just wearing underwear” you lie, turning on your back as your legs fall open. “The black lace one you got me before you left.”

“Fuck.” he whispers.

You hear something wet. Something slick, moving slowly to a steady beat. It’s so quiet over the phone that you hold your breath just to hear it.

“Take them off,” he demands cooly. 

You quickly slide the panties down your legs, letting them fall to the floor. Your legs spread in anticipation. 

“Touch your tits baby. Just squeeze and pinch those nipples for me.”

You do as you're told, sliding your hand up your tank top to touch and squeeze yourself.

“Spread your legs y/n” Jake groans.

“I already am.”

“Goodgirl.” 

You feel a rush of heat to your core.

“I want you to open the drawer, and pull out your little dildo. Tell me when you’ve done that, okay?”

“Okay” you reply promptly, eager, as if responding to him is as instinctive as breathing.

You open the drawer, searching blindly until your hand reaches silicone.

“I’ve got it.”

“Give it a kiss.”

You bring the toy to your mouth, kissing the spot just under its tip, just how Jake likes it. You imagine his cock twitching in your mouth- the precum mixing with your saliva, making the hot, pink skin shine. 

“I bet you look so fucking sexy right now. Alone is bed already riled up just because of the sound of my voice. I bet you want me y/n” he states, leaving no room for disagreement, although there wouldn’t have been anyway.

“I want you so fucking bad Jakey. When you get home, I need you to fuck me right away so I don’t have wait any longer for your cock.”

He lets a whimper slip out before quickly regaining his footing.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard that all you won’t be able to sit for a week. I wanna feel you stretch around me, squeeze me till I fucking burst.” A tiny, “fuck” followed by a moan. “My hand doesn’t feel as good as your pretty, little, pussy.” 

His hand works over himself faster now, breath becoming louder. 

“Put it in your mouth.”

You lick the underside of the dildo, momentarily forgetting that it isn’t actually him before you rest in on your tongue, sliding into your mouth.

“Imagine it's me. Suck my cock baby. Suck it real nice and deep.”

You push it in an inch deeper, eyes shutting tight when a small gag forces its way from your throat.

“Good job baby. You sound so fucking good. My cock hurts.”

“I wanna suck on it Jakey.”

You bite your lip, listening to the sounds of him stroking his wet cock thinking about you.

“Fuck yourself with it y/n. Just slide it right in.”

You bring the dildo down to your entrance, running it up and down to gather up slick. You nudge the head in, moving it in circles before your body opens up to let it inside. When it pops in, you gasp suddenly before sighing out a long moan. 

You push it in slowly. Taking it inch by inch as it stretches you out.

“I bet it doesn't make you feel as full as I do. I wish it was me who could fuck you in two right now. I wanna fucking break you.” he groans low and long, his hand working rapidly.

You pick up speed, bottoming out the toy and fucking yourself along to the rhythm of his movements. You feel the pleasure start to build up and soon small moans and pants escape you.

“Fuck yourself harder for me, cupcake” he spits the name out like a curse, gaining speed as he pulls himself closer along from the sound of your pathetic moans.

You push the toy in fast, faster, and then as fast and deep as it can go. You feel your leg begin to shake as you teeter on the edge.

“Touch your clit too. You think you can do that? Think you can fuck yourself and stroke that pink little clit all at the same time?”

You moan as your thumb swipes over your aching clit with every thrust of your hand. You feel yourself so close- white hot with tension.

“Keep talking Jake. Please” you cry.

“You wanna hear my voice? Does it make you so fucking wet. I can feel how you taste. If I close my eyes and imagine. You’re so sweet y/n, that’s why you're my little cupcake. And when I get back home, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m just gonna fuck you over and over again until I get bored, and maybe then, I’ll have you touch yourself, just like this, right in front of me while I just watch.”

You gasp and moan shakily as your hips twitch and shake. You’re so close that if you just-

“Cum.”

It explodes inside you. Your stomach tightens and contracts, legs shaking as you chant his name over and over again in a hushed whisper. You curl your toes and your mouth falls open as your hand thrusts the dildo harder and harder into your poor, convulsing pussy. 

You hear a loud grunt followed by a sigh and little shudders that make you worry that he’ll be heard. He lets out a long exhale and you picture his cum dripping down the side of his knuckles.

Your own breath starts to even out as you come down. Your legs finally settle themselves over the sheets.

You lay your head back, resting it as a huge smile spreads across your face.

“That was amazing Jake. I love you so much.”

You pause for a second before being met with the soft sound of snoring. Your heart swells as you pull the phone away from your ear to look at his profile picture. Poor baby probably had the longest day of his life but still made time to talk to you. 

You rest the phone gently on the bed while you go to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back, you place the phone on your nightstand and allow yourself to fall asleep to the sound of Jake’s breathing. 

.

.

.

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[bonniepop]

title: of rumors & wrong assumptions parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 (apparently) character: iwaizumi hajime warnings: i leave oikawa alone in this one. for the most part.

-

you manage to avoid drama for a good few weeks.

a welcome relief, seeing as you and oikawa were the center of attention for a more-than-uncomfortable amount of time. but as high school was wont to do, you became old news quick, with some other couple receiving the brunt of the gossip.

you did, however, have a sneaking suspicion that iwaizumi was behind the damage control. and while you three, along with oikawa, got along more and grew closer, you never really got a chance to ask.

the general student body was more or less updated with the fact that you weren't together, but murmurings of, but they looked so cute! (gross) or they sure act like a couple (worse) floated around your classmates before ultimately being silenced.

thank god, you think, because if you'd been caught watching volleyball practice from the mezzanine balcony of the gym at the same time those rumors went around, you'd be well and fully screwed.

now, though, you were afforded peace. oikawa and iwaizumi invited you to watch practice once and it became a sort of routine, joining them in the gym and going to your corner on the balcony, unpacking your things to finish your schoolwork. there were some noisy oikawa fans, but they never really stayed for long, and often left after one or two games.

some volleyballs ended up in your vicinity, though, which was technically unavoidable, but you would always hear iwaizumi's sorry! and throw the ball back.

the routine was nice. after practice, oikawa or iwaizumi would call you down and you'd stay a good few feet away (boy sweat) as you leave the school premises. turns out, you and iwaizumi head home in the same direction, so each time oikawa separates from your little trio, he leaves with a wink and waggle of his fingers.

this time, though, he throws in a, "you know what to do, iwa-chan!", which you can only assume is about homework, so you roll your eyes and wave goodbye.

your routine silence with iwaizumi settles between you as you walk home. you feel that iwaizumi wants to say something, but maybe you're imagining it.

when your turn comes, you turn to look up at him and smile. "i'll see you tomorrow."

you nearly jump back at the very severe glare he's sending in your direction.

"yeah," he grunts, his jaw flexing. "see you tomorrow."

you squeak out a, "take care," and scurry away in fear.

-

since you and oikawa were friends now (small barf), you ask for his advice in chem lecture. thankfully, it was audiovisual day, so you were seated at the back of the dark room while a movie played on the screen.

he listens intently as you recount the series of events to him, and he groans. "he really needs to do something about that face of his," he sighs. "he's not mad. i told you, that's just his face. he just has the guy equivalent of resting bitch face."

"he looked like he wanted to spike a volleyball to my head."

"that's how he looks at me," oikawa deadpans.

you sniff. "anyway."

oikawa purses his lips a bit. "if it bothers you so much, do you want me to talk to him about it?"

"will it make a difference?"

"honestly?" he says, thinking a little. "maybe not."

"i suggest you both pay attention before i do a pop quiz for this," your teacher says from behind you, scaring you into sitting up straight.

"sorry, sir," you and oikawa say in unison, and the teacher passes between your seats.

oikawa looks at you. later, he mouths, and you nod.

-

later turns out to be at lunch with iwaizumi.

"iwa-chan!" oikawa whines. "you really need to work on your expressions."

iwaizumi looks absolutely livid. "what are you talking about?"

oikawa gestures to his friend's face. "that! i keep telling you this. you look so... unfriendly!"

iwaizumi looks like he's ready to start a fight. but then he and relaxes his brow. "how about now?"

"loosen up on the chin."

iwaizumi follows suit. "now?"

you watch the exchange between the two of them as you eat your lunch, oikawa making the effort to rid iwaizumi of his resting bitch face. you had to agree with oikawa on this one—when iwaizumi sat down for lunch and looked like he wanted to murder his bento.

"better!" oikawa says cheerfully. he takes iwaizumi's chin and turns his face in your direction. "doesn't that look better, _____-chan?"

the relaxed look morphed into a murderous one. "if you want to keep that hand, i suggest you stop touching me."

oikawa simply laughs and pats iwaizumi's cheek. "you're funny, iwa-chan—OW! that hurt!"

lunch was now a (well, mostly) peaceful affair. the first time you three had lunch together—or when oikawa both dragged you kicking and (very quietly) screaming to his and iwaizumi's class room to have lunch with them—there was chatter, but now that it's been going on for a few weeks, people stopped caring.

iwaizumi uncovers his lunch. "i heard something funny the other day."

you pluck a grape from your lunch bag. "hmm?"

"apparently some people thought i was gay."

he says it as soon as you pop the grape in your mouth, and you nearly choke to death. oikawa rushes next to you to whack you in the back, after some desperate coughs, the grape dislodges. you chew and swallow quickly to avoid another mishap.

you take some breaths before turning to oikawa and smacking him in the arm. hard.

"that's my back, you idiot! you don't hit me like you're serving a volleyball!"

he looks offended beyond belief. "you ungrateful little—i just saved your life!"

"you nearly gave me a spinal fracture!"

iwaizumi fixes his glare on oikawa. "you're trying to stop her from choking, not dislocate her vertebrae."

oikawa sits back down and pouts. "you two are so unappreciative of me! you deserve each other." he dramatically stands up and, taking his lunch, marches out of the classroom.

iwaizumi scoffs in oikawa's direction. "drama queen." he looks back at you. "you okay?"

you stretch your back on your seat. "yeah, i think. he hit me pretty hard."

"you want a painkiller or something? i think i have some—"

"oh, no—i'm okay, really."

iwaizumi shrugs. "if you're sure."

awkward silence settles between you two as iwaizumi eats his food and you fidget. "so, um," you clear your throat. "you were saying? sorry. i interrupted you."

"oh, yeah, some—"

you nearly jump back when oikawa shows up suddenly. "i forgot my milk," he mumbles, sitting back down with his lunch.

iwaizumi rolls his eyes. "embarrassing for you."

"shut up," the volleyball captain says, grabbing his carton and taking a huge sip from the straw.

"anyway," iwaizumi goes on. "some people thought i was gay."

oikawa, who clearly has no regard for your personal wellbeing, perks up. he looks absolutely delighted. "you don't say?"

"shut up or i'll punch you again."

oikawa's mouth clamps shut, but he still can't help his smile.

iwaizumi shakes his head. "and what if i was?"

your eyes nearly pop out of your skull. is he serious? "are you?"

he rolls his eyes. "no. but if i was, i would not be with oikawa. gross."

the joy in oikawa's face was quickly replaced by offense. "hey! i'd be a good boyfriend!"

"your last girlfriend dumped you." iwaizumi picks up some of his lunch.

"wh—stop bringing that up!"

"so... you're not?" you ask tentatively.

iwaizumi is surprisingly calm about this. "no. or, well, i don't think i am." he thoughtfully chews his food. "i know someone who's like... what's the one that likes both? my cousin is that."

"bisexual?" oikawa supplies, apparently not too hurt from iwaizumi's last quip to listen to the story.

"yeah, that. he was bisexual, but when he moved to... i think australia? he found out he was gay. so, i don't know. maybe i'm not gay now, but who knows?"

"you're surprisingly relaxed about this." oikawa leans back, a little apprehensive. "i thought you'd be mad."

iwaizumi rolls his eyes. "being called gay is not an insult."

"that's very mature of you," you tell him, and he looks down at his food. it strikes you that he may be shy about that.

you and oikawa share a look as the bell rings. you start packing up your lunch. "i'll see you guys later?"

"oh," oikawa starts, "we don't have practice later. coach has a thing with his kid, so we have a free afternoon."

"oh, okay."

"i can pass by your room after school," iwaizumi offers.

you look at him. "um... why?"

he cocks his head, confused. "so we can walk home together."

there's a beat before oikawa goes, "since you walk in the same direction, might as well go together! good thinking, iwa-chan!"

something occurs to iwaizumi before he glares at oikawa. he looks a little red in the face, so you don't know if it's from rage or embarrassment. probably rage.

you finish packing up your lunch amongst a mild scuffle between the two and you stand. when you look up from your bento, you find one of iwaizumi's fists curled around the lapel of oikawa's jacket and the other fist in the air, ready to land a punch.

they freeze and look at you.

"sure," you say.

iwaizumi's hold slackens. "huh?"

"sure, we can walk home together after class," you clarify.

oikawa's jaw slackens and iwaizumi lets go of his friend.

"see you," you say, before waving and leaving.

behind you, you can hear oikawa cry, "OW! what was that for?!"

iwaizumi snaps, "for being annoying. now go back to your seat before i punch you again."

you bite back a laugh and walk out of the room.

[rat-club]

JOSH WASHINGTON FUCKING YOU IN THE BATHROOM AT A PARTY OMGGGGG, and he's like telling you to be quiet and he fully has a conversation with chris on the other side of the door while rearranging your guts... who said that? must've been the wind... - sammy <3

Aaaand it’s all over the screen 😝

Josh

Chris

Reader

Just imagine Josh bending you over the sink, your his hand gripping your hair and forcing your head up to look in the mirror as he pounds you.

Couldn’t wait till we got home, could you? Fucking whore.

You open your mouth to respond, but only staggered moans and other lewd notices come out before he swiftly clamps a hand over your mouth, hearing footsteps approaching the door followed by loud knocking.

Josh it’s been 20 minutes, what the hell are you doing in there, dude?

Josh leans forward, continuing to thrust into you with his large hand muffling you. You bite down as he tugs your hair to pull you closer to him.

Might wanna keep it down, princess. I’d hate to have to invite him in to keep him quiet if he hears how much of a slut you are.

Your eyes roll back at the idea, your body tightens as you imagine both of the boys using you. How they’d pass you around all night, using you as their little sex doll.

Josh are you looking at porn or something? I hear some… noises

You bite down harder, making him snap his hips forward and hiss out in pain. He glares at you, sending shivers down your spine as you think about how he’s gonna punish you when you get home later.

Yeah, nothing to worry about, Cochise. Just watching some slit getting absolutely destroyed

He sees you furrow your brows, wanting to snap back at him, but failing as he lets go of your hair and roughly attacks your clit.

Sounds hot, can you send me the link?

Of course, I’m more than willing to share

[oceanicpoetry]

Loki's arrival: official concept art (by Andy Park)

[celtrist]

Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet