#and he walks in a little dramatic and everyone looks at him

[lizzieolseniskinda]

LOGAN HOWLETT - misunderstanding

x FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 668

GENRE: little teeny tiny angst to fluff

CONTENT WARNING: soft!logan and i hate this sm

logan’s claws slid out with a distinct metallic sound, and he let out a low growl.

“for the last time, wade, i am not in the mood!” he barked, his gruff voice echoing through the corridor. he didn’t need to turn around to know it was deadpool—he could smell the obnoxious mercenary a mile away.

wade, of course, didn’t stop. he leaned against the doorframe, his red and black suit barely containing the sheer chaos of his personality.

“oh, come on, logan! lighten up, big guy. you’re like a grumpy cat with knives for hands. and just think—if you kill me, i’ll just come back! fun for everyone!” wade quipped, twirling one of his katanas like it was a baton.

“stay the hell away from me!” logan snapped, his claws retracting as he stomped away, only to find another mutant—probably jubilee—snickering behind a corner. it had been like this all morning: relentless teasing, poking, and general nonsense.

by the time he reached the kitchen, his patience was thinner than the ice wade probably wanted him to walk on. the smell of coffee offered a brief promise of peace, but his mood was far from salvageable.

and then you walked in, all warm smiles and sleepy eyes.

before you could even greet logan, he whipped around, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“for the love of—what now? can’t you people just leave me the hell alone for five seconds?” he roared, his deep voice booming in the small space.

the words cut through the air like his claws, and your face immediately fell. you hadn’t done anything—hadn’t even been awake for the chaos that morning—but his tone hit like a slap.

you nodded and turned on your heel and hurried out of the room. you weren’t angry or sad, just very confused.

his chest heaved as the words lingered, their weight settling uncomfortably in his gut. logan hadn’t even processed who he was yelling at until you were gone.

“ah, damn,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand down his face.

wade popped his head into the kitchen, holding a finger up like a mockingly dramatic teacher.

“first rule of relationships, wolvermean: don’t yell at the cute one,” he said with a sing-song tone.

“get out before i break your neck,” logan grunted.

without another word, he stalked down the hallway, following the faint sound of your retreating footsteps. logan found you in your room, curled up on the bed with your back to the door. he knocked softly, the sound a stark contrast to the yelling from earlier.

“darlin’,” he called, his tone significantly softer than before.

you didn’t answer, and his chest tightened.

“look, i… i didn’t mean to yell at you. i thought you were one of those idiots tryin’ to mess with me again.” he leaned against the doorframe, his voice low and gruff. “i’m sorry.”

still, no answer.

logan sighed, stepping into the room. he sat carefully on the edge of the bed, not wanting to push you further away.

“i’ve just been… on edge this mornin’, but that ain’t an excuse.” his hand hovered over your shoulder, hesitant. “please look at me?”

you finally turned, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. the sight nearly broke him.

“you scared me,” you admitted quietly, and logan felt his heart twist.

“i know, sweetheart. i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll make it up to you, i swear. just… don’t stay mad at me too long, alright? i can’t take it.”

you bit your lip, the sincerity in his expression making it hard to stay upset. “you’re lucky i like you.”

a small smirk tugged at his lips. “i am. i know it.”

he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if to physically shield you from any further hurt—even if it came from him.

“next time, yell at wade,” you murmured against his chest.

logan chuckled softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “i will.”

“that’s a promise.”

[cherryfyre]

5 Ways Sarah Cameron Used Rafe To Change Your Mind

For the ladies in the back !! @lovinqbella 🥂🥂

1. Convincing You to Attend a Party

You stood in Sarah’s room, arms crossed, shaking your head. “No way. I’m not going to that party. It’s just going to be a mess of drunk people and bad music.”

Sarah groaned, flopping dramatically onto her bed. “You’re impossible. It’s one party, and everyone’s going to be there.”

“Exactly my point,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

She glanced at her phone and suddenly smirked. “Fine, don’t go. But you know who is going?”

“I don’t care,” you said quickly, but the way she raised her brows in response made your stomach twist.

“Rafe’s going,” she said, casually scrolling. “And honestly, he doesn’t go to these things that often anymore. Kinda weird, actually.”

You hesitated, looking out her window like you could avoid the conversation altogether. “That’s… irrelevant.”

Sarah grinned. “Is it? Because last time I checked, you two had been getting along pretty well. I’m just saying, he asked if you were coming.”

Before you could respond, her bedroom door creaked open. Rafe leaned against the frame, one hand tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. “You coming or not?”

His blue eyes locked on yours, unreadable, though there was a flicker of something—expectation, maybe—that made your heart skip.

“I haven’t decided,” you said, standing straighter.

Rafe smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Sounds like a yes to me. I’ll see you there.” He turned and walked away, leaving you with a stunned expression and Sarah grinning like she’d won.

2. Persuading You to Go on a Group Hike

“Nope. Not happening,” you said, firmly tying your sneaker and standing up.

Sarah frowned. “Why not? It’ll be fun! Fresh air, great views, all that stuff.”

You gave her a pointed look. “It’s a hike. You know I don’t do bugs, dirt, or sweating unless absolutely necessary.”

Sarah sighed, tapping her phone against her palm thoughtfully. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to tell Rafe you bailed.”

You blinked. “Rafe?”

“Yeah, he’s coming. Said he wanted to get out of the house. Weird, right? Anyway, he’s probably going to make fun of you for being scared of a little exercise, but I’ll tell him you had a good excuse.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not scared. I just don’t see the point.”

Sarah smirked. “Sure. Tell that to him when he asks where you are.”

An hour later, you were trailing behind the group, muttering under your breath about Sarah’s manipulation. Rafe slowed his pace until he was walking beside you, his tanned arm brushing yours.

“Not so bad, right?” he asked, glancing at you with a slight grin.

You huffed. “I wouldn’t call this fun.”

“Guess you just need better company,” he replied, his voice low and teasing.

You shot him a look, but the warmth of his smile made the dirt path seem a little less annoying.

3. Convincing You to Go Paddleboarding

“No, Sarah. I’m not getting on a paddleboard,” you said firmly, eyeing the glistening water of the cove.

Sarah grinned mischievously. “You say that like you’ve tried it before.”

“Because I don’t have to try it to know I’ll fall flat on my face,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Not if someone’s there to help you balance,” she said casually, glancing behind you. Before you could ask what she meant, a low voice interrupted.

“Scared of water or just bad at sports?”

You turned to see Rafe leaning against the dock post, his hair tousled from the wind and a smirk tugging at his lips. He was shirtless, his tan skin catching the sun, and you suddenly found it difficult to form a response.

“I’m not scared,” you muttered, though your pulse betrayed you.

“Good,” Rafe said, stepping closer. “Because I’m not about to let you drown. Come on, I’ll even hold the board steady for you.”

Sarah nudged you with her elbow. “See? Easy solution.”

Fifteen minutes later, you were wobbling on the board, Rafe’s hands steady on your ankles. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and calm. “You’re overthinking it.”

His eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, you forgot all about the water beneath you.

4. Persuading You to Go for a Late-Night Drive

“I’m not getting in a car with Rafe,” you said, glaring at Sarah.

“Why not? It’s just a drive,” she replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“You mean with your brother who drives like a maniac?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “He’s not that bad. Plus, he said he’s going to the lookout, and you love it there.”

You hesitated. The lookout was your favorite spot, but…

Before you could argue further, headlights illuminated the driveway, and Rafe’s truck pulled up. He leaned out the window, his arm resting casually on the doorframe. “You coming or what?”

You glanced at Sarah, who gave you a knowing look, and reluctantly got in.

The drive was surprisingly quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space. When you reached the lookout, the stars seemed impossibly bright.

“You always this stubborn?” Rafe asked, leaning back against the hood of the truck.

“Only when I have a reason to be,” you shot back, but your tone lacked its usual bite.

“Noted,” he said, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary.

5. Persuading You to Help Fix the Dock

“You’re kidding, right?” you said, staring at the pile of wooden planks and tools. “I don’t know the first thing about fixing a dock.”

Sarah shrugged. “Neither do I, but Rafe does. And he said he could use an extra set of hands.”

“Why don’t you help him then?” you shot back.

“I have other plans,” she said, already backing away. “But you? You’d be perfect for the job.”

Before you could argue, Rafe appeared, carrying a toolbox. He glanced between you and Sarah, his expression unreadable. “You staying to help?”

You sighed. “Apparently.”

He smirked. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to get your hands dirty.”

“I’m full of surprises,” you replied, grabbing a hammer.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourself laughing more than you expected. Rafe’s sleeves were rolled up, sawdust clinging to his skin, and the way he occasionally glanced at you—like he was trying to figure you out—left you feeling strangely flustered.

When the dock was finally finished, he leaned against a post, watching the sunset. “Not bad for a rookie,” he said, his tone teasing but soft.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in his gaze made it hard to argue.

[creamflix]

MAKE SOME NOISE FOR THE DESI BOYS! — featuring gojo, nanami, sukuna, toji, choso, geto content warnings: writing this as a way to cope with my horrible first draft of a oneshot. south asian & desi settings/culture/reference(s), certain non-english phrases or words have been written in italics. established relationship, more of character headcannons than x reader moments. lots of fluff and crack and very self indulgent.

what’s this? it’s spicy? — every time. gojo’s arrogance would be no match for a plate of golgappa with the most fiery paani. he’d insist he could handle it, only to down half a bottle of milk and dramatically flail about. would wear a kurta to your cousin’s wedding but would make it somehow... scandalous? the kurta would be slightly unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up, showing his forearms, earning him several aunties’ stares (and jibes). absolutely insists on dancing during wedding processions. he’d make it his moment, hyping everyone up, and yes he'll even sit on your uncle’s shoulders, long limbs flailing around. if he accompanies you to a relative's house, he'd out-chat the most talkative aunty. someone needs to remind him he’s not the center of attention during mid-afternoon snack time. insists he doesn’t need or drink tea but still sips yours every single time, claiming it “just tastes better” when it’s from your hands. decides to help your mom in the kitchen one day, only to create a disaster. your mom bans him after he burns roti and mixes sugar instead of salt into daal. everytime he goes with the aunties to shop at the local markets, he always gets a few knick-knacks for you, even without asking. expect you to wear them on your dates together, duh.

nanami would be in awe of your mom's cooking. he'd sit quietly, savoring every bite, occasionally muttering, “this is exquisite.” he’d be polite to the point where he wouldn’t admit his stomach was done at a family dinner. your uncles would keep piling food on his plate, and he’d silently soldier through, sweating a little but never complaining. he’d be fascinated by your family's love for cricket and would learn the rules just to engage in conversation. next thing you know, he’s analyzing the team's batting order at 3 a.m. you’d catch him sneaking sweets from the fridge at odd hours, eyes lighting up like a kid when he discovers them stashed away. learns exactly how you like your tea and makes it for you without asking every morning. he even knows to add extra ginger when you’re sick. helps you set up lamps during diwali and insists on doing the rangoli with you, though he’s oddly meticulous and wants symmetry everywhere. tries helping you drape your saree during a family event and somehow manages to get it perfect after watching one youtube tutorial. after work, he picks up paani puri from the stall near your house because he knows it’s your favorite, even though it’s been a long day for him.

geto would become every single kid’s favorite at family gatherings. he’d let them braid his hair, play charades, and act as the mediator when they start fighting over who goes first. he’s the kind who’d sit with your grandma for hours, listening to her stories about her youth and nodding thoughtfully as if committing everything to memory. would absolutely insist on wearing a sherwani to a wedding because he respects the tradition, and he looks like he just walked off a vogue india cover. notices every detail — your earrings, your bangles, even that small bindi you put on. always manages to say something that makes you feel seen and cherished. loves watching old shahrukh khan movies with you and mimics the dramatic hand gestures, leaving you in fits of laughter. makes a mess of eating sev puri, getting imli chutney all over his fingers, but enjoys it so much that he insists on taking you for chaat every week.

sukuna refuses to admit he likes your mom’s parathas but will eat five in one sitting. he’d grumble about “why does this butter smell so good?” while scooping another bite. at first, he’d scoff at cultural events, calling them “pointless human traditions,” but eventually, you’d catch him laughing at your cousin’s bad singing or mouthing the words to a song. bhindi fry or aloo gobi would become his favorite dish. he’d demand you learn your mom’s recipe exactly as is. and god forbid, you forget the pickle. hates most people but inexplicably bonds with your uncle, the one who’s slightly tipsy at every function and making inappropriate jokes. makes you explain the 10 different kinds of pickles your mom keeps in the pantry. ends up liking lemon pickle the best but hates admitting it. accidentally steps on the edge of your saree while passing by and tries to play it cool when you glare at him, muttering, “how was i supposed to know it’s this long?” initially says, “i don’t get what’s so special about biriyani,” but after tasting your mom’s, demands she teach you exactly how to make it “or else.” always insists on driving you home from family events, saying, “your uncles are insane drivers, and i don’t trust their shortcuts.”

choso’s sweet, quiet nature would win over your aunties almost instantly. they'd call him little one and pinch his cheeks every chance they got. he’d be a sucker for gulab jamun. you’d leave him alone with a bowl, and suddenly half of it would disappear. he’d give you that guilty but adorable "did i do something wrong?" look. would love watching bollywood movies with you, but he’d always side with the villains because “they’re misunderstood.” his favorite movie is don 2. lowkey obsessed with mehndi. he’d insist you draw some on his hand for fun, sitting patiently while you doodle a peacock and floral designs. takes notes as your mom explains how to make dal tadka. later surprises you by making it, though it’s slightly too salty. gets genuinely emotional watching kabhi khushi kabhie gham, especially during the family reunion scene. refuses to admit he cried. helps you untangle strings of lights before diwali and insists on hanging them up himself so you don’t climb any ladders. sneaks sweets from the fridge at night, only to leave a sticky trail of crumbs everywhere. when confronted, he sheepishly blames the cat.

toji would absolutely love the chaos of a desi wedding. the dancing, the food, the random uncle fighting with the DJ — he’d thrive in it. shamelessly asks your mom to pack leftovers. he has zero shame about taking home an entire packet of biryani. the man can handle spice, but even he’d flinch at a particularly deadly pepper. he’d recover quickly, though, saying, “it’s good. just clears out the sinuses, ya know?” absolute menace during garba. no rhythm, no technique — just a wild flailing of arms and a massive grin. he's suprisingly good at bhangra and now everyone wants to dance with him. fixes random things around the house for your parents, like the fan or the jammed door, all while your aunties try (and fail) not to ogle him.

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[s3renascorner]

Have you ever tried this one?

MDNI!!

Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

Warnings!: oral (f receiving) p in v (don't be like them and use protection!) Pet names, cursing, mentions of being tipsy. I think that's it.

Not proofread! so sorry for shitty grammar.

You

"Noah are you finally ready!?" You yelled from your room to your roommate and best friend. You heard heavy footsteps approach your room as Noah walked towards your room, he stops right at your front door and says "damn can't you be a little more patient? I was just finishing up" you quickly grab your purse and put on your shoes, you open up the door revealing yourself to Noah. "no Noah I can't be, we have to be there early so we can get merch remember?" Noah's eyes slightly widen as he takes in what you're wearing, a very short light pink sparkly mini skirt with a matching top and platform boots resembling a stage outfit Sabrina carpenter wears. "You look, extremely good ya know?" He says looking at you up and down. "uh huh thanks now lets go" you say rushing.

After the concert had started Noah was definitely sure he was going to tease you at home after the concert especially after hearing you say "come right on me, I mean camaraderie" well, until the song 'juno' started playing and Noah quickly got what the song was about but what he didn't expect was the position part, Sabrina laid on the floor lifting one leg then swiftly going into the splits, you had jokingly told him that you had apparently "never tried that one in your life" obviously this was supposed to be a light hearted joke especially with the amount of teasing this man gave you every day, but he took it another way, those words making him feel warm and weak, in that moment he thought about you laying there for him completely at his disposal, doing everything and anything for him. He wouldn't lie and say that he's never thought about you in another way than more than friends or that he's never thought of you bare before him doing so many sinful things to-and with him but damn, right now he just wanted to take you away and fuck you til your dumb in the back of his car.

After the concert had ended and you guys got back in the car (well, barely since you were tipsy) Noah couldn't stop thinking about what you had said, it was stupid really, but the fact that just thinking about you in that same position, making you cum until you were seeing stars and just have you. "I actually think that this is the best night of my life" you slurred while giggling. "oh really? And why is that miss I love to scream horny lyrics?" You dramatically gasped and put your hand on your heart, "you wound me sir, and also you listen to the weekend, that's wayyyyy worse than just saying I'm so fucking horny"

sir. That word alone made his cock twitch, not because he likes being called that but because he wants to hear you call him that again and again. "I guess your right" he clears his throat "well, we should get going traffics gonna suck either way right?" He tries to change the topic, You hum in response "well I mean yeah but why don't we wait for a while? Everyone's gonna be headed the same direction and we don't have to be up early tomorrow, plus if I get motion sickness while being tipsy, well that's not gonna be pretty so lets just, wait it out." That wouldn't work for Noah, he just needed to take a cold shower and relax cause if not god knows he would be struggling especially with how you act while tipsy. Last time he was alone with you while tipsy it ended up in you talking about how no one was good for you and that you couldn't even have sex because it didn't feel right, and yes you did cry on him that day. Noah wasn't going to push the idea of going back home since he knew you were gonna make him agree with you either way. He just needed to figure out how to distract himself.

"you okay? You seem tense... Like a lot." You said putting a hand on his shoulder, "uh yeah I'm fine just a little tired that's all." "Um..." You said trying to come up with something. "well you can sleep in the backseat with your head in my lap for you to be comfortable" "um, sure" he said, he climbed into the back of the car and sat down waiting for you to come climb in the back, once you did you accidentally fell on his lap, your skirt rose up and you felt his semi hard on. "Shit, sorry noah" your faces had matching flushed cheeks and that nervous look in your eyes, you tried to move away so you could sit down on the seat but his grip was firm holding you in place. You looked at him nervous and slightly excited, he started lightly caressing your exposed thighs not realizing you half exposed ass since he was so focused on your face and on every little expression that changed. The air felt hotter and your senses had heightened feeling every bit of him covered body except for the hand that was on your thigh that's the thing you could feel the most. The moment felt like eternities but was actually mere seconds. "Y/n?" "yes?" You said barely above a whisper.

"hypothetically if I were to kiss you right now, what would you hypothetically do?" His question took you aback, was he actually going to do this? "Hypothetically, I think I would want more than just a kiss." His eyebrows slightly raised and he nodded just a tiny bit, he carefully but quickly lifted you up and positioned you so you were straddling him. "So... About what you said inside, you've never tried that? Ever?" He said a teasing smirk on his lips. You gulped trying to understand what he was trying to do, "no... I haven't like ever." "would you like to?" Your eyes widened, your breath got heavier, jesus this man could make you nervous in a second.

"What?" "Would. You. Like. To. Try. It?" He put punctuation at every word, soaking up the fact that he could get you like this without even doing anything. "y-yes" you said basically breathless, Noah didn't say anything he just slowly lifted your skirt and made sure that you would be prepared.

He leaned in leaving a peak on your neck going all the way up until he reached your lips and asked "may i?" After you nodded just wanting some kind of touch he leaned in, lips touching yours as if he was testing the waters first. you both had a good rhythm it was slow and passionate, god knows how long you've been wanting to do this with him, his hands started to ride up your thighs to grip your ass, once he did you slightly gasped which gave him the freedom to slip his tongue into your mouth tasting you properly. He slowly moved his hips against yours trying to get some friction as he couldn't get enough of you, your hands were tangled in his hair making it disheveled and messy but he didn't give a shit about that with you like this.

"Fuck Noah, I need you" you moan out breathlessly. "need me to what princess?" God that nickname could make you fold any day, "i... I need you inside me" he nodded quickly and laid you down in the backseat slowly stripping you of your clothes, every layer he took off weirdly felt like a layer of the feelings that you two had for each other was being exposed and shown, with no lies nor any doubts, and sure you could've expected this to just be another quick fuck but it wasn't, it was love and passion that you two had been holding on to and keeping a secret for the years and years of your friendship.

Noah gazed and admired your naked body taking everything in as if he were never to see it again, he softly kissed up your thighs and stopped at were your core is to ask "are you sure?" You nodded but responded with a quick yes because you knew he needed a verbal answer "green if you're okay, yellow if you need to slow down and red if you want me to stop. Ok?"

"ok." Noah placed a soft kiss on her core earning him a soft whimper from you a signal that he could keep going, he left kitten licks still just warming you up until you had finally had enough and had asked him for even more which was what he was waiting for. He, to put it bluntly, ate you like it was his last meal making you say his name like a prayer. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach tightening begging to release, "Noah I'm gonn- can i-" you barely muttered out "cum for me baby, let go." euphoria washed over you, making you feel like you weren't real. "you still with me princess?" Noah asked making sure you were ok, his hands rubbed up and down your thighs the feeling making the sense of touch come back. "Yeah, yeah I just I need you inside me noah." Noah smirked and for one last time kissed your thighs each two times, "your wish is my command doll."

He sat up and stripped himself of his clothes, you couldn't help but stare at his bare self, you'd imagined him before but god it was better than you'd expected. "take a picture it'll last longer" he teased "oh shut it" you said, he grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to him hooking a leg on his shoulder the other resting on the seat as you laid on your elbows, this was a surprise because you didn't think he would actually do the position you just thought he was joking or teasing you like always. "what are you doing?" He raised an eyebrow "I told you we would do it." You just shut up and bit your lip as he positioned himself to your entrance. He slowly slid in making sure you adjusted to his size before starting to thrust, when you gave him the signal he started moving at a slower pace but quickly picked it up when he heard the first whiny moan you let out, it felt fucking magical for a lack of words, every thrust and moan that you both let out was so intimate and special because you both knew that it was just for you two, not for anyone others ears to hear, not for anyone other to feel how deep he went and how fucking wet you were for him it was just, the two of you.

You could tell he was about to cum when his thrust got sloppy and fast, you weren't to far behind either the second knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter waiting for you to cum, you walls tightened against him and you started basically chanting his name, your hands intertwined as your head fell back as your breath got unsteady. "Fuck doll, I'm gonna come." You squeezed his hand "come for me noah" you both let out groans as you came at the same time, his hot seed filling you up until you were leaking cum. He collapsed on top of you breathless but so fucking satisfied and so were you. "We- we should probably get home shouldn't we?" He held onto you tighter "in a bit"

The next day...

You were scrolling on your phone through tiktok while laying on Noah's chest when a video of the concert from yesterday popped up, specifically the juno position part, you watched as Sabrina raised her leg while asking the question "have you ever tried this one?" remembering last night. Noah spoke up as he heard and just said-

Yes we did.

[kentobb]

hiromi higuruma x female secretary (AU).

chapter 08 > chapter 10

chapter 09

Higuruma arrived at the club, his dark coat draped over his shoulders, his expression as cold as ever. The line outside stretched down the block, packed with people eager to lose themselves in music, drinks, and bad decisions. But Higuruma didn’t care about the wait.

With calm determination, he strode past everyone, ignoring their annoyed stares and whispers. The bouncer, a burly man with tattoos snaking up his arms, straightened as he approached.

“Mr. Higuruma,” the bouncer greeted with a respectful nod, immediately stepping aside to let him through.

Higuruma gave a slight nod in return and stepped into the club.

The bass reverberated through the air, the room alive with flashing lights and a tangle of bodies moving to the beat. The scent of alcohol and perfume was overwhelming, and Higuruma’s sharp gaze scanned the crowd.

As he walked through the chaos, he saw couples grinding against each other, groups laughing over drinks, and strangers locked in drunken kisses. It was a world far removed from the calm, structured order he usually inhabited, and he found it irritating.

Then he spotted a flash of white hair in the distance and immediately knew it was Gojo.

But as Higuruma approached, he froze. Gojo was making out—very enthusiastically—with a long-haired man dressed in all black. The man, who had an air of smugness, smirked against Gojo’s lips before pulling back slightly.

Higuruma rolled his eyes, his patience already worn thin. He walked up and tapped Gojo’s shoulder, causing him to glance back mid-kiss. Gojo turned, slightly embarrassed, though still grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Boss man!” Gojo said, smoothing his hair with exaggerated flair.

The long-haired man—Geto—winked at Higuruma before disappearing into the crowd.

“Really?” Higuruma said coldly, crossing his arms.

“What?” Gojo grinned. “Can’t a guy have a little fun? Speaking of which, what are you doing here? I thought you were married to your job.”

“I’m not in the mood for games,” Higuruma said sharply. “Where is she?”

Gojo laughed, clearly relishing this. “Ohhh, so you came for her?”

Higuruma’s glare was answer enough.

“Relax,” Gojo teased, gesturing lazily. “She’s over there, with her friend.” He pointed to a booth in the corner of the room.

Higuruma turned, following the direction of Gojo’s finger, and his heart sank. There you were, sitting with Utahime, a row of empty shot glasses in front of you. You were clearly not yourself, your cheeks flushed as you swayed slightly, laughing too loud at something no one else found funny.

Higuruma’s eyes narrowed as he watched Utahime drunkenly flirt with some guy who seemed equally intoxicated, leaving you to down another drink on your own.

Without hesitation, Higuruma made his way to you, weaving through the crowd with purpose.

When he reached the booth, he slid into the seat next to you and fixed you with a cold stare. “Haven’t you had enough?” he asked, his tone clipped and disapproving.

You turned to him, your gaze unfocused, and squinted as if trying to recognize him. “Ohhhh, it’s you!” you slurred, your words tumbling over each other. “Higuruma, the serious guy. You kiss me and then you regret it. What are you doing here? You don’t even like fun.”

His jaw tightened. “Clearly, neither do you.”

You leaned closer, blinking at him with exaggerated curiosity. “Are you mad at me? You always look mad. Are you mad right now?”

“I’m not mad,” he said tersely, though his eyes betrayed his concern.

“Good,” you said, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “’Cause if you were mad, I’d be so sad. Like, sooooo sad.”

Higuruma pinched the bridge of his nose and waved the bartender over. “Whiskey. Neat.”

The bartender recognized him immediately, nodding with deference as he hurried to fulfill the order.

Meanwhile, Higuruma kept his gaze on you, his cold demeanor intensifying every time someone so much as glanced your way. He sat stiffly, his presence alone a deterrent to anyone thinking of approaching.

“So,” you said, breaking his thoughts, your tone playful and slurred. “Do you always look this grumpy, or is it just for me? It is because I spilled your caramel macchiato on my first day?”

Higuruma gave you a blank stare. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk,” you retorted childishly, poking his shoulder.

“I’m not,” he said flatly.

“You should be!” you declared, raising your empty glass like a toast. “We’re at a club, Mr. Grumpy Lawyer Man. You should let loose! Have fun!”

Higuruma ignored your antics, though the corner of his mouth twitched in irritation—or maybe amusement.

The bartender returned with his whiskey, and he took a slow sip, savoring the burn.

You watched him intently, your head tilting slightly. Then, as if struck by a sudden epiphany, you blurted out, “You’re really attractive, you know that?”

Higuruma froze mid-sip, nearly choking on his drink. He coughed, setting the glass down as he fixed you with a sharp glare.

“What?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“I said you’re attractive,” you repeated confidently, despite your slurred words. “Like, ridiculously attractive.”

Higuruma’s ears turned red, but his expression remained stoic. “You’re drunk,” he said again, more forcefully this time.

“And you’re avoiding the compliment,” you shot back with a smug grin.

He exhaled sharply, lifting his glass and muttering to himself, “This is going to be a long night.”

You signaled the bartender for another round of shots, your mind already hazy and your limbs light with the effects of the alcohol. Higuruma, sitting next to you, immediately rolled his eyes, his cold demeanor unwavering despite the growing tension in his body.

He was doing everything in his power to not let his protective instincts take over, but it was a battle. Watching you, so carefree, so vulnerable, was making it difficult to ignore the urge to just drag you out of the club and lock you in a safe, quiet room where no one could touch you. Where no one could look at you.

The bartender quickly brought over the shots, and you raised your glass with a drunken grin. “Cheers!” you slurred, downing the drink in one go. The burn felt good, or maybe it was just the numbness that came with it.

Higuruma turned his head slightly, trying to look away, but his gaze flicked back to you almost immediately. You were having fun. But that fun, at least from his point of view, was spiraling out of control.

Before he could even blink, Utahime, clearly oblivious to everything else, grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dance floor. The two of you moved, as if magnetically drawn to the music, your bodies swaying and grinding to the beat. The rhythm was fast, sexy, and energetic—and it only made Higuruma’s jaw clench harder.

He stood there, in the same spot, unable to look away from you. His eyes narrowed as every man within a five-foot radius of the dance floor started eyeing you. It was a mix of desire and greed in their gaze, and Higuruma could feel his anger building with each passing second.

He looked over at Gojo, who was in the midst of his usual flirting, this time with the same long-haired man from earlier. Gojo shot him a grin, but Higuruma barely spared him a glance. He was too busy trying to not throw the entire club out for staring at you.

Then, just as the tension seemed unbearable, Higuruma saw him—one of the men in the crowd, who was too eager for his own good, was approaching you. The guy tried to slide his way into your dance space, and you, still blissfully drunk, politely pushed him away. But he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Higuruma’s chest tightened as the guy grabbed your waist, pulling you closer against your will. You tried to push him off, but the alcohol clouding your senses made it difficult, and you only half-heartedly attempted to free yourself.

Higuruma had seen enough. His anger surged to the surface in an instant. He marched forward, eyes cold and filled with fury. Without hesitation, he shoved the man to the floor, sending him sprawling in front of everyone.

The entire club fell silent.

Higuruma stood over the guy, his voice cold but seething. “She said no.” The words were final, a warning.

The man scrambled to his feet, his face flushed with shock and anger. He tried to argue, but Higuruma was not having it. His posture was menacing, and his voice was like ice as he yelled again. “She said no!”

The guy, unwilling to back down, took a step toward Higuruma, ready to throw a punch. But before he could do anything, Gojo appeared from nowhere, sliding between the two of them with surprising speed. He threw his arms out, separating them instantly.

“Whoa, whoa, guys, let’s all just calm down,” Gojo said, his tone oddly light-hearted for the situation. He held up his hands, signaling peace. “Let’s not ruin the party, alright?”

The guy, now visibly embarrassed, shot one last glare at Higuruma before turning to leave the scene. Security swooped in almost immediately, escorting him out of the club with quick efficiency.

Meanwhile, you, blissfully unaware of the chaos, had been staring at the entire situation with wide, confused eyes. You were still drunk, still trying to process everything. The loud music, the flashing lights, the people moving around you—it all felt like it was spinning in slow motion.

When Higuruma grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the crowd, you blinked a few times, still dazed. “Higuruma…?” you slurred, trying to form a coherent sentence.

He didn’t answer immediately. His face was stone-cold, his jaw tight, as he led you away from the dance floor and toward a quieter area of the club. He was doing his best to maintain his calm, but anyone could see that he was furious, and his grip on your hand was almost too tight.

“You’re going home,” he said, his voice clipped, betraying none of the concern he was actually feeling. The club, with its chaos and noise, was no place for you right now.

You stumbled slightly in your heels, still not quite sober enough to fully understand what had just happened. “You’re… mad?” you asked, your tone soft, your voice vulnerable.

Higuruma glanced down at you, his eyes softer for a brief second before the coldness returned. “You’re drunk,” he muttered, his tone barely audible above the music. “And you’re not staying here.”

“But—” You hiccupped and tried to protest, but the rest of your words got lost in the dizzying spin of the night.

“No,” Higuruma said firmly, still pulling you through the crowd with a speed that made it hard to keep up. “You’re not staying here to get harassed by idiots.”

You were too drunk to argue, and honestly, his presence was a strange comfort. Even though he was cold, harsh, and incredibly serious, you felt a strange sense of security when he was around. Maybe it was the way he was so protective of you, even in a place like this.

By the time he led you outside into the cool night air, you could barely focus on anything. The noise of the club seemed miles away now.

“You’re going home,” he repeated, his voice steady as ever, though his eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, still angry—but now, with a hint of relief.

The car’s engine hummed softly as Higuruma drove through the night, the city lights casting faint reflections on the windshield. The air inside the car was thick with tension, his mind racing despite his calm exterior. He could feel the weight of the night—the chaos in the club, the anger that had boiled inside him, and now, the responsibility of making sure you were safe.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious to all of it, your head lulled against the seat, your body swaying slightly with every turn. Your breathing was steady, though the occasional hiccup betrayed the alcohol that had clearly overwhelmed you.

Higuruma glanced over at you. He saw your soft, peaceful face, your lips slightly parted as you slept. A part of him hated that you’d been so drunk in the first place, but another part couldn’t deny that he was relieved you were no longer in the chaos of the club.

Still, he had a responsibility—one that he hadn’t anticipated when he first agreed to work with you.

He sighed. There was no way he could take you back to your apartment in your current state. You wouldn’t even be able to find your keys, let alone unlock the door. And the last thing he wanted was for something to happen to you when you were so vulnerable.

With a deep, almost resigned breath, he made a sharp turn. He was heading the opposite way of your apartment—towards his penthouse.

As Higuruma parked in the garage of his penthouse, his guards eyed him curiously as he pulled the car to a stop. They weren’t used to seeing him with anyone, let alone a woman, especially one who looked as though she could barely keep her eyes open.

“Everything okay, sir?” one of them asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything’s fine,” Higuruma said curtly, his tone making it clear that no further questions were needed. He didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to talk about it. He simply grabbed the keys, got out, and walked to the passenger side of the car.

The guards exchanged confused glances, but none of them dared to question him further. They watched as Higuruma carefully scooped you up from the car, his hand steady as he supported your weight.

As he carried you to the elevator, he could feel the eyes of his security team on him. They were all surprised. A woman? Here? In his penthouse? It wasn’t like him to have anyone over, let alone someone in this state.

But he didn’t care. He just wanted to make sure you were okay.

He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. The silence in the elevator was heavy, and for a moment, Higuruma allowed himself to breathe. He felt the weight of responsibility, but there was also something else—a strange sense of protectiveness that he couldn’t shake.

When they reached his penthouse, Higuruma was already tired of the silent questions his guards were surely dying to ask, so he simply nodded at them and moved toward the guest room. However, upon a second thought, he decided that it was better to take you to his personal room. He didn’t want to deal with the added complications of trying to explain this to anyone.

He laid you gently on his bed, the soft sheets barely ruffling as you adjusted to the comfort. You muttered something incoherent, still caught between the fog of sleep and the effects of the alcohol.

Higuruma sighed as he looked down at you, a faint smirk appearing despite his cold exterior. You were so out of it, mumbling nonsense, your words slurring as your eyelids fluttered.

“You’re a mess,” he muttered under his breath, but there was no heat behind it—just a strange mixture of exasperation and reluctant care.

You stirred as he moved to pull the blankets over you. Your sleepy eyes blinked up at him, your face scrunching in confusion as if you were trying to figure out where you were.

“Higuruma…” you mumbled, your voice soft and sleepy. “Where are we?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but instead pulled the covers up to your chin, tucking them around you. His gaze softened slightly as he took in your features, the way your lips were parted just a little, the way your hair fell messily around your face.

You blinked again, and then, still in your half-drunken state, you whispered, “Kiss me again.”

Higuruma froze. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t been expecting that.

He shook his head, his hand resting on the edge of the bed as he leaned down slightly to meet your gaze. “No,” he said firmly, his voice cold and controlled despite the burning sensation in his chest. “Sleep.”

You pouted, your eyes glossy and unfocused as you stared up at him. “But I want to feel… I want you to…” You trailed off, too tired and drunk to finish the sentence.

Higuruma closed his eyes briefly, trying to maintain his composure. You were drunk—drunk—and none of this made sense. He couldn’t let himself be caught up in whatever this was.

“Sleep,” he repeated, his voice less harsh this time but still firm. “You’re not thinking straight.”

You blinked at him again and then, without another word, settled back into the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the sheets. Higuruma stood there for a moment, watching you as you drifted into a peaceful sleep. There was something about the way you looked in that moment—vulnerable, innocent, and utterly unaware of the chaos that had been happening around you.

He sighed, his cold fa��ade slipping slightly as he pulled the blanket further up your body. He placed your head carefully on the pillows, his own pillows, and smoothed your hair back from your face.

As he backed away from the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to get his thoughts in order.

Without saying a word, he walked to the small sofa in the corner of the room, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and sank into the cushions.

His eyes never left you. The quiet rhythm of your breathing was the only sound in the room, and for a long while, he just sat there, watching you sleep.

He didn’t know why he was so drawn to you, why it bothered him so much to see you so drunk and defenseless, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between you two—something he hadn’t fully grasped yet.

With a deep breath, Higuruma took a sip of the whiskey, feeling the warmth of it spread through him. As he watched you sleep, he could only wonder what the future held.

But for now, all he could do was sit there, his thoughts clouded by a mix of concern, frustration, and a growing sense of something more complicated than he was ready to admit.

[madhatterbri]

Birthday Surprise | C.C.

Summary: Y/N finds out she drank a little too much last night. 18+.

Author's Note: Happy birthday to everyone's favorite Patriarch. It was between this or Professor Cage AU and honestly this came to me so quickly. ❤️

Happy Collision Saturday, babes. 🫶

Christian Cage Masterlist

AEW Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @surdelcielo @magicalbuttertarts

The sound of a shower running slowly stirred Y/N from her slumber. She blinked a few times to adjust her vision. The plain white ceiling above slowly comes into view. She rubbed her eyes slowly. Her hand reached out to the nightstand. With cell phone in hand, she frowned at the low battery percentage.

How could it possibly be so low? Wasn't it charging all night?

The wrestler reasoned that her cellphone charger must have fallen out over night. She rolled over to grab the cord, but noticed it was nowhere in sight. Maybe Kris stole it. She had been complaining about it lately.

Now that she thought about it. The layout of the room was different than the room she checked into yesterday. The other room had two queen beds. This one currently seemed to have one king-sized bed. Her bra and underwear were lying on the floor. Y/N always proud herself in being neat and putting all her dirty clothes in the luggage. A sudden realization hit her like a ton of bricks. The blankets around her weren't hitting her clothes. They were hitting her skin.

You aren't naked.

She repeated this in her head like a mantra. Maybe if she repeated it one hundred times, this would be true. When she was mentally ready, she raised the covers that shielded her from the world. In her shock and horror, she was as naked as the day she was born.

Her clothes weren't far from her. They laid just a few feet away. The shower in the bathroom was still running. Maybe she could get dressed quickly and run out of here like the building was on fire.

After gathering enough belief in herself, she kicked off the covers over her body. The white sheets bunched at the foot of her bed. She ran to the first item of clothing she could grab: her bra.

"Come on, come on, Y/N, faster," she told herself. Her arms were the first through the bra, followed by her head. Her fingers fiddled with the bra until it clung to her body just as she wanted. Before she could reach the rest of her clothes, the shower turned off.

The bathroom door opened, and the smell of a man's cologne filled the room. It smelled expensive. Maybe she didn't completely screw this all up. At least he had money.

Y/N cursed under her breath and made her way back to the bed. The presumed man walked out of the bathroom wearing a polo with jeans. A tattoo stuck out underneath one of the sleeves. He was muscular. A mister blonde hair and light eyes hottie. Okay, she definitely didn't screw this up. Until she noticed who was standing in front of her. Christian Cage.

She gasped and placed the blankets higher to cover her bra.

He chuckled at her sudden movement. "Don't be shy. I saw it all last night,"

She glared at him. "You didn't see anything, and we are not talking about this.... How did I get here?"

"I thought we weren't talking about this,"

"Answer the question, Cage,"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic, Y/N. We drank too much and had sex,"

Impossible. She wasn't that type of girl. There must be some sort of mistake. Maybe she poured some food on her clothes or something. Y/N looked at the dress she wore last night. There was not a single blemish or stain on it.

They stared at each other momentarily. "Aren't you going to look away? I need to get dressed,"

"I literally saw everything last night," he interjected.

In true gentleman fashion, Christian started to list off of every birthmark and scar on her body. Some definitely couldn't be seen unless her clothes were off.

"Just turn around so I can get dressed," she groaned.

Christian muttered under his breath. He stomped his feet to turn around. Arms crossed over his chest. A loud sigh heaved from him like this was the biggest inconvenience in his perfect life.

Y/N dashed out of the bed. She slipped on her underwear first and then her dress.

"Can I organize my room now?" Christian asked impatiently.

Y/N answered a yes with attitude. She pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache started to form. Years must have been taken off her life by now from him increasing her blood pressure.

"There are literally housekeepers here that'll tidy up your room,"

Christian turned around. He rubbed his face in frustration. Oh, yeah, like she's the problem in this situation.

"Yeah, and I would greatly appreciate it if they didn't see the open condom wrapper on my nightstand,"

To make a point, he grabbed the condom wrapper from the table. The wrapper crinkled loudly in his fingers. Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped. The indisputable evidence in the biggest pain of the ass' fingers.

Oh my God, they did have sex.

Well, at least it was protected, right?

"We aren't saying a word to anyone. You stick with the weird little family you have, and I stick with my totally cool and amazing friends," Y/N told him. She grabbed her shoes by the couch and slipped them on.

Kris was going to bombard her with questions. Questions she didn't exactly feel like answering now or ever.

"Don't worry I won't tell Kip,"

Y/N tensed at her ex-boyfriend's name. They only broke up about a month ago, and it was still so fresh. Well, to her it was. The healing was taking longer than she anticipated. One of the drawbacks of having to work close to her ex.

"I am leaving," she announced to no one in particular. Her feet started to carry her towards the door.

"Hey, wait!" He exclaimed. Christian walked to her. The condom wrapper was still in his hand. "Don't you want a souvenir to remember the best lay of your entire life?"

She glared at him, but continued to walk away.

"Can I at least get a happy birthday?"

She stopped at the door. Her hand reated securely on the door handle. Before she left, she only had three little words for him.

"Go fuck yourself,"

[mizzfizz]

shoto takes his dad's card one day and takes his classmates to a nice restuarant and pays for it with the card because his dad said some shit about the class

[arsenicflame]

I love people who love competent Stede Bonnet but, for me, he's always at his best when he's at least a little bit cringefail

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

sometimes..so.etimes they change something even after the premiere. sp you appear and watch an entirely new and prolonged monologue. and it's like. FUCK YEAH.

[armedbirds]

i love thinking about how harrows expressions look to non-gideons. like.. gideon sees every godfucking duplicitously slutty minute detail about her expression like a billboard and everyone else sees a painted and pinched off inverted triangle

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who leaves hickeys all over you so often that you have to push him away when you start looking like you fought an octopus.

"Toji, you know these aren't always gonna be so small. They're gonna end up looking like bruises. Just look at the ones you already left."

"Mhm," he hums, already leaving another one on your shoulder blade, releasing your skin with a wet smack of his lips. He rubs his spit into the mark like it's some sort of salve that'll make it last longer.

"I'm fine with these," you say, looking at all the one's he left on your chest and below. "but my neck... i'm running out of makeup, baby. I won't be able to cover them if you keep this up."

"Then don't." He would just love that. Despite how nonchalant he sounds about it, it's a highly recommended suggestion. He would genuinely love it if you walked around with his marks all over your neck. People will automatically know that you already have someone you get freaky with.

"I have to go to work sometime. I wouldn't be able to take having my neck stared at by everyone I talk to. No more neck hickeys."

He nears your neck, again. The second you say he can't put another mark on it, he spots a clear area and leans in, lightly pressing his lips against it.

"Tojiii," you whine, leaning forward, away from him. "Leave it alone."

"But, it's clear. It's lonely without being marked like the rest of your neck." He scoots forward again, putting his enormous hands on your waist to pull you close. "I'll be quick. Just-"

"Mm-mm. No," you interrupt, brushing his hands off of you.

"I might just die if you don't let me do this, ma."

"Really?" You raise your brows in disbelief.

"Really," he responds, so confidently.

You scoff. "You're so dramatic. You won't die if you don't get to suck on my neck."

"Who knows? I might spontaneously collapse because of it. Weirder, more unexplainable things have happened."

He's so dumb sometimes. Your hunk is absolutely ridiculous, and yet you find yourself weighing towards his point in this.

"Would marking up that blank space actually cure you?" You feel as silly as him for asking the question.

"Who's to say?"

You tilt your head and deadpan. "Right. I guess i'll take my chances and just keep the random patch of unmarked skin on my neck."

"Hey, that doesn't mean we can't try. Come on, now."

You groan and roll your eyes before making your way back to him. He cups your cheeks, smirking as he looks into your eyes, before turning your head to expose the blank area on your neck.

"It's a reaaally good spot, doll. I think i'm gonna make it."

You huff, unable to look at him because of the way your head is turned. You feel his tongue slide over your neck, the gesture transitioning to his lips kissing the area and then it feels sharp. His lips leave a stinging sensation with every second that they stay on you.

"Ow, fuck, you vampire. It feels like you're actually trying to suck the blood out of me." You wince. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm done." He admires his masterpiece and smirks with pride. You have an entire collar of hickeys that he put on you, and the newest one looks mean.

"You look pretty. Could eat you up, mama." He swipes at the new mark with his thumb, looking at the color that will remain on your skin for the next few days.

"I can tell. You already devoured me. You're insane. Just look at all of this," you say, running your hand over your kiss stained neck.

"I was just nibbling on you," he speaks, into your jaw, before smoothly laying you down, onto the bed. "Just wanted a little taste," he says, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. "Am I really insane for that?"

"Um..." you laugh, making your flustered state obvious. "Yes?"

"Damn." He gives you a long, deep kiss, that makes you forget what you were talking about. "You think i'm crazy?" You hum, and he does it again.

"Haven't you played with me enough? I feel like i'm some chew toy for you." You giggle, feeling his lips on your cheek, trailing towards your jaw.

He hums, dismissively. "Found more blank space."

[devosin]

GRIM ACCIDENTLY OUTING YOUR CRUSH ON HIM !! . . grim accidently blurting out how much you love the dorm head . .

gender neutral reader / fluff / crack taken seriously / mutual pinning

a/n: this has been rotting in my idea list for like over 2 years, enjoy! og account: @/cupids-chamber

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus was surprised, when you had decided to tag along on his Gargoyle Study Club meeting, however he was ecstatic with the idea of you joining him, while he talked about his favorite things. Truly an exciting time, talking to his favorite person about his favorite things!

For once he didn't quite mind having no one at the meetings, because he got to spend time with you—and Grim . . he's there too . . In fact, Malleus kind of finds it endearing he stuck around this long with you, listening to him, despite clearly not being interested in the topic.

Malleus walked around, showing you his collection of gargoyles—explaining the extensive history of each one, and you listened, throughout his explanations which most people would find extremely boring, though seeing how passionate he was about the subject, you couldn't help but be engaged.

You followed along behind him, as he showed you each one, Grim on your shoulder, yawning rather loudly—clearly bored with the past hour, where you dragged him into Malleus's club meeting, which you passed off as a 'morale' thing to do—when he can clearly tell you did this because you liked him.

"Ah . . I have something I want to give to you"—Malleus shifted through the drawers, looking for the miniature gargoyles he had made for the both of you (well just you, he figured grim would appreciate something more . . edible . . he got tuna.).

Grim leans in closer to you, whispering rather loudly, so much so you knew Malleus could hear, "henchman, how much longer . . my whiskers are turning white here!!", he whispered all bit dramatically, and you sighed internally, mumbling a soft, "Grim not right now", in response.

After a few more moments of silence, Grim leaned back, and exclaimed, "You seriously like this guy, he likes gargoyles more then I like tuna—"

Grim paused, realizing he spoke a little more than he really should've. . . and Malleus paused, dropping whatever was in his hand to the floor, turning blankly at you, looking at you with a dumbfounded look on his face . . (he's processing, give him a minute.)

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Riddle isn't the kind of person to intrude in a conversation, especially when he knows he isn't wanted there (debatable)—He also doesn't enjoy listening in on others private conversations . . However, this case is different, obviously he has the right to be curious when you're being so very loud, I mean practically everyone can hear you!

His heels clicked on the floors, as he raced through the halls—Riddle doesn't often find himself in a rush, but lunch had started 5 minutes ago, and he was running behind on his schedule.

His hands gripped his notes tightly, and just as he was about to make a turn, he heard his name . .—Riddle stopped in his tracks, looking around, in order to find the source of the noise, that's when he spotted you . . and grim, who was speaking rather loudly.

Now, Riddle swears he's not purposefully ease-dropping, but Grim was loud. . he was bound to overhear anyways! . . Well that's what he'll keep telling himself, in order to ease the guilt of listening in on your private conversations.

"Riddle?!" Grim exclaimed, waving his little paws around in shock, "out of everyone henchman, you like that—", you covered Grim's mouth with your hand, whispering loudly in response, "Why don't you tell the whole school I like Riddle, Grim?!?"

Riddle paused in response to that, 'you liked him? . . as in romantically? . .', Riddle loses his grip on his notes, in shock. Papers scattered the floor with a thud, and before Riddle could fix the mess he had accidently caused, you turned, and faced him . . This is gonna be one long confessio—conversation.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

See, Vil isn't the kind of person to believe in a rumor or petty gossip that he hears across the halls of Pomefiore, because if there's drama then Octavinelle and Pomefiore are the absolute first at the crime scene—He's well aware of how a small lie and a fake rumor can go and ruin someone's life, which is why Vil prefers information from the source.

That being said, Vil does enjoy gossip—and at time's he draws his own conclusion to a topic, and keeps it to himself, he's on the middle line of it all, but you bet, he'll 'coincidentally' overhear all the drama going on at your family reunion but don't worry, he's amazing with secrets. (Headcanon: he probably pretends not to like gossip, but still listens and reacts when Rook tells him what he overheard)

And this is why Vil couldn't help it but approach Grim when he heard him complaining begrudgingly to himself, about you kicking him out and making him run 'errands' . . which were more likely then not, a distraction.

"Oh it's nothing, henchman just needed privacy . . ya . .", Vil raises a brow, and Grim should've shut down, but when a can of good tuna got involved . . Well a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Grim took the can of tuna from Vil, "They're preparing a confession letter", Grim spoke and Vil couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal at the revelation, how could they like someone else . . When he's breathing! (At least wait till he's cremated, like gosh . . So as long as his body exists, even if he's not breathing, you should love him frfr #hawkmothcore for the win) . .

"To who?", Vil asks, curiously, and Grim stares at him blankly, "I'll give you another can to go—" he offers, "Gimme it right now, and I'll tell ya'".

Vil sighs, handing him another can, "The letter is for ya', henchman likes you—".

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Now normally, Leona could care less as to what goes on in the botanical garden, while he takes a nap there (mainly because he's too asleep to register his surroundings), because even with his acute sense of hearing, rarely anyone visits, and if they do, they only do so to take a break or catch a breather, or to just immerse themselves in the garden as a sort of escape, so it's usually all quiet and soothing, for the most part.

However, some days he wasn't so lucky, be it students randomly popping in so they could skip class, or to have a picnic, or that random couple, who thinks it'd be a cute and adorable idea to have a date in the botanical garden because no-one goes there, and it's so secretive and the mystery excites them. (he hates, he fucking hates it, he's the biggest hater there is, he despises all couples equally.)

Leona was all comfortable, half-asleep, his eyes were closed as he was ready to just get some shut-eye, sleep for a couple hours—until, he heard footsteps, rather loud ones . . Now, he normally doesn't care, and to be frank, he doesn't care right now, he figured they're taking a small stroll, and will stop . . eventually. (delusional king!!)

"Grim this is ridiculous—", Leona's ears perked up as he heard your voice, now that had his eyes wide open, looking around for you . . Well he's not that curious, as to what you find 'ridiculous' (he's very curious, he needs to know each detail, tell him everything), but he does hope you expand on it.

"C'mon henchmen! The best way to get over someone is confess and get closure?", Grim was confused himself, with whatever he was saying, "Oh yea Grim, which class did you learn that from, romance 101 with Crowley?—", Leona snorts.

"No actually I asked Trien!" Grim says . . a bit too confidently for comfort, "Grim . . I don't think you should be proud of that", you point out.

"Just tell Leona you like him? He's not gonna kill ya"

". . ." Leona froze, . . you liked him? I mean yea that makes sense, he's really attractive, but you—Liked him? . .

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Azul states that he doesn't favor you that much—although the twins will argue otherwise, especially since Azul got you to taste test the new Monstro Lounge menu items, before he released it . . before even tasting it himself, . . and maybe he didn't want to let it slip that he liked you only—because he ended up also inviting Grim to taste the food with you—And with Crowley's payments . . well you were more than willing to accept free food.

To be fair, Azul is aware you do get a bit more special treatment, and deep-down he's well aware he likes you, but confronting his feelings? in this economy? . . not gonna happen . . He'd rather you assume he's a cat person who likes Grim, because clearly that's what you think of him, since he's so pretty and smart and good at covering his feelings. (He's not, he's boyfailing a little too close to the sun.)

Azul had everything set up—and by that he means, he had a plan and got other people to set it up for him, according to said plan, because he couldn't give away the fact that he had planned it himself, no . . that would make it seem like he was into you, and he'd rather die then you know that—In fact, he'd rather have his tentacles inked dry and cut off, fried and dipped in his ink, and shoved so far down his throat he chokes and dies before that even remotely comes close to happening.

You sat beside Azul, as he asked asked you about the food, and you gave responses that he mostly liked, . . well you did have some comments about the blue cheese rigatoni . . But to be fair, he entrusted the blue cheese to Floyd . .

Grim was half-way through his food, when he randomly spoke, with his mouth rather full, "This is amazing . . I can see why you like this guy henchman . .—" Azul paused and he practically stopped blinking, if his ears could perk up, then it would right now, "—for once your taste in men . . has good justification henchm—" Grim only paused when he recognized your glare, and only then did he realize how badly he fucked up . . "I'm not getting the good tuna for awhile . . am I?"

KALIM AL-ASIM

Kalim doesn't usually come in without an appointment (lies), or before informing you beforehand (lies on top of lies), and he doesn't really like invading your personal time (and lies again) . . at least not knowingly, but today was different . . he wanted to go somewhere with you! It's a surprise, and surely you'd appreciate him randomly popping into your dorm and dragging you outside, in the sunlight like an upstanding citizen and friend.

Kalim settles on the couch in the lounge of Ramshackle, stretching his arms out as he gets comfortable. All the while, Grim stares him down, . . something Kalim noticed off the get-go, "Why are you looking at me like that?", he calls out, confused and a tad bit unnerved at the blatant piercing stare.

"You're the one henchman likes, right? . .—what's your credit score? . . how many cans of tuna are we talking—"

Kalim paused, ". . . what?", he asks blankly, still paused at the first half of Grim's sentence, enough to not notice or take offense to the rest of his words and questions. "Why can't ya' hear me . . ?! I asked what's your credit scor—", grim responds, only to be cut-off mid-sentence by Kalim "BEFORE THAT!"

"That you're the person henchman lik—", Grim pauses as he hears your voice, and as you enter the room, Grim realizes his mistake, "Fuck."

"Kalim act natural!" Grim asks, as he goes back into his usual stance, but as he see's Kalim not moving, . . "who am I kidding . . no one can get shit through to ya' in one go . . I'm fucked."

IDIA SHROUD

Idia had his gaming equipment set up for two, well it would be three—but paws and controllers isn't the most fun thing to play around with, therefore Grim has opted to watching, instead of playing. Which he gets bored of rather fast, and well Ortho preferred to watch his older brother then play, or do normal kid things like advanced calculus.

Although Idia didn't really mind that, he enjoyed playing with you, because you were a really good challenge, a true gamer! . . And with newer games, he found that you listened and got the hang of it fast, and it was fun helping you grow your account on his favorite games, and it was also fun listening to you ramble about your favorite games from your world.

"So yea in genshin impact—", you rambled on and on about the Fontaine chapter, and about the 'archon' which was like the great seven, and how sad her storyline was, Idia dabbled in Lore from time to time, though he really found it amusing how you took the time to describe everything, you really helped immerse him in the storyline, and to be honest, sometimes he could imagine he was playing the game with you.

"—and then if you went into this specific area you could actually hear her cry . . OH oh! . . and when Neuvillette cried, it would like downpour so hard . . ", you continued rambling, and Idia would just listen, so much so that you guys completely forgot the game you were actually playing . . which seemed to upset Grim, who wanted to watch.

"Yea yea . . henchmen, we get it was sad, and it's fun talking to the love of your life—but could we please have more playing and less talking!", Grim explained rather dramatically, his paws flinging up, only to be silenced when he saw the two of you silent, looking at each other . . and then Idia's hair burst up in bright pink flames . .

commissions / discord server / personalized advent calendar

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[determinate-negation]

this essentially is a description of a concentration camp complete with testimony from concentration camp guards whos perspectives range from 'occasionally sympathetic to the people theyre overseeing the torture of' to the exact type of matter-of-fact indifference you will be very familiar with if you've read the interviews of nazis. quotes below from multiple people interviewed

"The thing is that when I was there, it all somehow looked normal to me, because there are excuses [for sending them to the camp's hospital], and the medical work takes place in a normal, familiar space. But in the end, what's happening there is total dehumanization. You don't really relate to them as if they're real human beings. It's easy to forget that when they don't move and you don't have to talk to them. You just have to check off that some medical procedure was done, and along the way you remove the whole human dimension of medicine." [...] "When you come to the camp, the first thing that hits you is the smell. The place really stinks, in an extreme way. When there's a little wind, maybe it's possible to shift your position a little so you can avoid [the smell]. But nearby it was intolerable." What does it smell like? "Like the smell of dozens of people who have been sitting in close quarters for more than a month in the same clothes and in insane heat. They let them shower for a few minutes around twice a week, but I don't remember ever seeing that they gave them a change of clothes, in any case not on my shifts." [...] "I came there with the mindset of a soldier. Let us do our time, without asking anything, and then go home. But two incidents happened in the wake of which I couldn't continue there any longer. The first was in one of the pens. Guys came from the escort force, who in my opinion were military police reservists. They came in like big shots, with ski masks, and led three or four detainees out. They made them walk bent over, handcuffed and with flannelette on their faces. Each of them held the shirt of the person in front of him. And then suddenly I saw one of the police officers, right at the entrance to the pen, take the head of the first detainee and 'boom,' smash him with force into some iron part of the door. And then he smashed him again and said 'Yalla.' The moment I saw that I went into total shock. It was simply right opposite me… suddenly I saw someone with the thought going through his head that, 'Fine, this is not a human being. I can simply bash his head against the door. Just because I feel like it.' The nonchalant way he did it stunned me. He didn't look angry or full of hatred, he even laughed at it." [...] "The detainee's story [mentioned earlier in interview], and the fact that he started to cry in the end [made it dramatic.] It was a very human and surprising display after all the preparation and the things they tell you there. They keep pumping it into your brain that you have to disconnect. That they're not people. That they're not human beings." Who said things like that? "The guys, the company commander, the officers, everyone. You know, there was a female officer who gave us a briefing on the day we arrived. She said, 'It will be hard for you. You'll want to pity them, but it's forbidden. Remember that they aren't people. From your point of view, they are not human beings. The best thing is to remember who they are and what they did in October.'

read the entire article. this is a fascist mentality identical to the third reich

[yzzart]

YOU'RE RULING THE WAY THAT I MOVE... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji was insatiable, they say.

── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, fiance!kenji, oral (f!receiving), finger marks, petnames, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.

── word count: 1.206!

Oh, Kenji Sato was, unconditionally, insatiable. — Perhaps, mentioned in countless reports and comments and rumors from journalists, a little voracious and avid. — Making it clear that he looked for satisfaction around him, wanting to end this thirst on the court.

Being one of the biggest, and best, baseball stars, he had the reason, and right, to cause this. — Everyone could agree, right?

But this feeling remained in his chest, covertly, off the court; of course, trying not to show it in the public eye. — There was a mixture of need and lack that only Sato could admit; poorly, dramatic.

Kenji felt hungry, needing to be close to you, causing any physical contact, wanting to enjoy every inch of your body; aspiring to press it around you. — He wants to feel, touch and delight you. — And that drove the young boy crazy.

At the same time that you drove him crazy, leaving Sato thirsty, greedy for your smell or just seeing your gaze against his, you also directed him to the light; being a guide on your troubled path. —Kenji was grateful, and, gods, as he was. — The possibly true meaning of walking through heaven and hell in one walk.

He was trapped, connected to you; always keeping, like a magnet, his strong, long arms around your waist, pressing himself against you or fitting his face into the crook of your neck, nudging his nose into the back of your neck. — Sometimes, his teeth run through your skin, a sensitive spot, marking the area and then kissing it; conveying a loving and ironic action when saying “sorry, my love”.

Also, Kenji remained, pleasantly, surrounded between your thighs and holding them, with such precision and rigidity, leaving, in the future, marks of his long fingers; unable to avoid the possessiveness that coursed through his veins. — Delighting, relishing in the taste of your pussy; keeping him even more addicted to you, being certified as a starving animal.

That mouth, so bold and sharp, that responded and argued everything that came to mind, in fact, was smeared with taste and pleasure; sucking, kissing your folds, incredibly wet and mixed with his saliva, in an unruly way. — Attacking your sensitive and pulsating clitoris, his tongue surrounding it with slow circles and tracing lines across the region. — Rarely threatening contact with his teeth.

The damned man knew how to torture you and thought it was funny, he had, unquestionably, a talent for it.

“Ken, holy shit…!” — The environment, unstable, dark and poorly lit by the small bands of light that came from the huge windows, covered by curtains, was filled with the moans and whimpers that came out of your beautiful, dirty mouth. — “Ngh!” — You choked, trying to breathe.

Kenji would like, would love, to live with his face between your thighs; he could forget about baseball, save the city from monsters, everything. — Everything to devour you.

“My little princess with that mouth…” — A pop, made by his mouth, when sucking one of your folds was exclaimed. — “…so dirty.” — Pretends false hurt along with a pout, quickly licks his lips. — "So good…"

Raising his shiny orbs of desire and lasciviousness, Kenji witnessed, or rather, enjoyed your dazed image, hazy of the purest pleasure you received, feeling in a cloud of delight. — The large t-shirt, which belonged to your fiencé, lifted up to your collarbone, showing off your perky breasts and your messy hair spread across the pillow. — A magnificent work of art, somewhat angelic, apollonian.

Your little face manifested the lost between lust and excitement, being a sight for Sato's eyes. — You looked wonderful, as always.

“You know, hmm…” — The heat of his tongue returned, moving, slowly, to your entrance, tasting, ambitious; Sato's name was begged, almost inaudible, landing in his ears. — “I would spend hours eating that pussy.” — He had already confessed to that filthy curse so many times, but that's not a complaint. — “Oh, but, you know, don’t you?” — He growled.

“Hm, hm…” — This was an attempt to state what I had heard. — “Ken, please…” — You didn’t know what, in fact, you were begging, you didn’t care about blurting out disconnected words and things; the older one raised his eyebrows, mocking you.

“Fuck, baby.” — Kenji exclaims, almost breathless, closing his eyes and tracing a line with his tongue to the small, quivering dot, focusing on it; impatiently, wanting to enjoy your orgasm. — "I know, i know." — He babbled, clicking his tongue and increasing the speed of his licks; distributing a messy, clumsy, obscene kiss to your pussy.

A scream, thin and tearful, with a melodic tone, and considered music for the player, broke free from your mouth. — Being caught off guard during the change of promptness. — Without delay, one of your hands fell on Sato's black hair, pulling it sharply. — And you swear you felt a dirty smile, then a giggle, which sent a wave of shock through you.

When you felt a hot, scorching sensation of pleasure and voluptuousness boiling in your stomach, accompanied by the impression of numbness dominating your extremely sensitive little spot, you knew you were close. — Kenji too. — Your chest burned, rose and fell, trying to regulate or catch a breath, and your back arched; whining, immorally, even more so for Ken.

Holding your thighs, feeling a mediocre courage in trying to close them, which were increasingly trembling, Kenji's hands slowly caressed them; wanting to reassure you. — The coldness of his engagement ring ran across your skin, giving you goose bumps. — From the movement made in his mouth, Ken had said something, but, covered with exultation, you was unable to understand; probably words of encouragement.

"Oh, Ken, Kenji...!" — You screamed, frantically, while miserably moving your hips against Kenji's mouth, warning him; even if there is no such need. — Understanding what was going on, a growl came out of the older man's mouth, maintaining his rhythm. — “I’m close, Ken…” — You cried, feeling tears invading your eyes.

Suddenly digging your nails into Sato's scalp, as tears, witnesses of desire, fall from your eyes, you cum in Kenji's mouth; deliciously releasing all your pleasure. — Your head resting on the pillow, your chest rising and falling under pure exhaustion. — Therefore, you continues to be devoured by your lover.

Kenji, by gently opening your thighs a little, gets drunk on your orgasm; persistently tasting, tasting and eating your pussy. — Now, unshakable and extremely high level of sensitivity. — The tongue cleaning, searching and not leaving any drop of your cum with his greed and thirst to be quenched.

You were being adored, worshiped —even ecstatically— and you appreciated it. — Sato never tired of making you feel this way.

“Please,” — As he start to pull away, Kenji lifts his head, to get a clear view of you, and the glow on his chin and mouth, caused by your cum and his saliva, sends butterflies to your stomach. . — "you're so perfect." — He murmured, stunned and swallowed dryly. — “I wanted to stay buried in your thighs, like, forever.”

Your hand, which was still between his locks, immediately messed them up; mercilessly finding his change in personality ridiculous. — Addressing a low "i love you” to him.

“Me too, love” — He took a deep breath. — “But, i’m serious.”

[saeist]

what are we? ── bakugo k. (1.4k)⊹ ࣪ ˖ part two

"so.. who here has a secret boyfriend we don't know about?" mina asks the first thing that came to mind not even a minute after this impromptu slumber party that's currently held in yaoyorozu's room

after a long week of training and pro hero studies, you lot decided to why not unwind by having a little sleepover at one of the girls' rooms. yaoyorozu was kind enough to volunteer to hold it in her room as she has never experienced sleepovers with others

you all looked at each other with curiosity. curious if anyone was actually in a committed relationship that the class didn't know about. not like it was their business or anything..

"what? nobody? that's kinda hard to believe.." hagakure comments, genuinely surprised since usually at this age where everyone is in high school, you're bound to get into relationships

"i mean it's like we have the time to mingle around since we're busy with training and on top of that, trying to keep afloat with our academics" tsuyu points out, a finger on her chin as she recalls if anyone actually had free time to spare amidst all the chaos your class has been through

hearing what tsuyu said, mina whines, dramatically flailing her arms around

"ugh i hate that what you said is true, tsuyu-chan.. but what about crushes! do you guys have a crush on anyone in class or anyone in ua?" mina continues to bombard everyone with questions related to romance. to you it almost feels targeted because you're not too sure if she knows something about you

"crushes?" uraraka trails off. all of a sudden she shakes her head vigorously.

"what's wrong uraraka-chan?" tsuyu asks, worried

"oh my god! are you crushing on someone?!" hagakure squeals, "you have someone in mind don't you!"

the girls (minus you, tsuyu and yaoyorozu) start to bombard her with questions

"is it midoriya?!"

"is it iida?!"

"who?!"

"it's nobody!" uraraka defends herself, shaking her hands around. mina pouts but drops the subject.

you didn't even realize that you were holding in your breath til jirou points it out

"what's with the sigh of relief, y/n?" jirou pokes your side jokingly.

wrong move on your part

suddenly there was a certain glint on mina's eyes. like you just walked into her trap

"you haven't said anything since we started talking about crushes, y/n-chan.. anyone in mind?" mina grins mischievously.

"no one" you say abruptly but it turns out your own body betrays you. you can literally feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks

"oh my god she's blushing! WHO! IS IT IN OUR CLASS OR CLASS B? WHO?! WE NEED TO KNOW" hagakure squeals in joy, suddenly clasping your hands together as she shakes you

"it's nobody you guys-"

"i've been meaning to ask, y/n-san.. if there's anything going on between you and bakugo-san" yaoyorozu speaks up for the first time tonight

mina and hagakure both scream in delight

"what makes you say that, yaomomo?" you ask, trying to calm your heartbeat at the mention of the boy you think you're seeing..

you and bakugo had a weird, for lack of better word, "relationship" going on at the moment. one would call it a situationship but you're still not 100% sure if it's even heading to that direction

it all started after the provisional license exams. the same night where he and deku had a brawl at ground beta. right after bakugo and deku got dismissed by aizawa, you bumped into him in the kitchen. obviously scared out of your wits that he was looking all beaten up, you brought him to the nearest bathroom to clean his cuts and bruises

since then you and him had found yourselves in this weird "relationship". sure, he's still the same bakugo you first met during the first day of classes. always brash and rowdy but when it was only the two of you.. he was.. a littler calmer than usual

to others, he was his usual explosive self but when it came to you, his tone would be a little softer. still, it's still rough around the edges but the subtle change is noticeable if you were a close friend of his

overtime, you and bakugo slowly became touchy with each other. there were lingering stares, lingering touches when you two were paired up to spar during training and what not

obviously with this sudden change of attitude towards you, the whole class noticed it. why were you getting treated differently by the king explosion god himself?

and before you even noticed it, you found yourself almost by his side at all times in the dorms. may it be in the kitchen where you're basically his second in command when he was in charge of cooking, in the lounge whenever everyone decides to have a little movie marathon or a little celebration, literally everywhere to the point everyone had made assumptions that you two have something going on

have you guys said anything about your little situation? no

have you guys shared a kiss? maybe

have you guys been caught holding hands? definitely. on multiple occasions

but nobody dared to question it. or else they would've been blown away by boom boom boy himself.

that is until, the girls found an opening which was tonight at yaoyorozu's room, in the middle of your slumber party

"i didn't mean to eavesdrop that one time but i overheard you giving him your notes when he was under house arrest for a few days" yaoyorozu sheepishly admits. she suddenly clasps her hands together and bows as she spews apologies for eavesdropping that one time

and like a domino effect, it seems like all the girls have noticed something about the two of you all along

"that reminds me! when we were practicing for the school festival, one time i saw bakugo teaching y/n how to play drums!" jirou quips

"did you guys notice the look on bakugo's face during the joint training with class 1-b when she got hit by gevaudan?! he was pissed!" uraraka adds

"don't think we didn't notice the look you have on your face whenever bakugo comes home from their remedial classes" hagakure teases

"god i've been dying to know! kirishima keeps telling me that he hears bakugo laughing to himself late at night at times now it's all clicking!" mina gushes

all this time you thought you and bakugo hid it well. then again it's like you two even had the chance to properly talk about whatever you two have going on

"so what do you have to say for yourself, y/n-chan? or cat got your tongue?" mina teases, nudging your shoulder

all the girls lean forward, awaiting for your answer

"... we're friends- yeah that's right! we're just friends you guys" you say awkwardly, scratching the back of your head as a nervous habit to top it all off

mina and hagakure don't buy it

"that's not very nice of you to deny your boyfriend like that" mina teases, poking you multiple times in hopes you break (you almost do)

not wanting to say anything else that could potentially jinx whatever you have going on with the blonde, you shrug. it might be a little embarrassing on your end to admit that you and the infamous bakugo katsuki were in a little dilemma you call a situationship

sensing that you weren't gonna budge anytime soon, mina moves on with the subject. talking about what quirks they wished they have from the class

you took this time to pull out your phone and send a little update to your.. friend

[9:24PM] you: so the girls asked me if i had a boyfriend.. [9:24PM] kitkats: and what did u say?? [9:25PM] you: i said no lol cus i dont have one [9:26PM] kitkats: ?? [9:26PM] kitkats: so am i just an arm accessory now or?

right before you were able to reply back, mina snatches your phone from your hands.

"no texting during the slumber party!" she yells, before taking a peek at who you're messaging

"give it back, mina!" you scream, trying to get your phone back to prevent her from reading what seems to be a new message from bakugo

"oh my god it's bakugo! wait let me send him a pic so he won't disturb our party" she squeals, taking a quick selfie of everyone with you looking all stressed out

"and.. sent!" she smiles proudly. after what seems like torture (it was only a few seconds) mina tosses your phone back to your hands before continuing on whatever you guys were talking about

not even a minute later, bakugo replies

[9:30PM] kitkats: raccoon eyes you better not set yn up with someone else when im literally right fuckin' here

[intromortal]

LIQUID SWEETENER

jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.

PAIRING jake x f!reader

CONTENT smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care

WORD COUNT 3.8k

a.n happiest birthday to my love !!!! nia era where she doesn't let everything she writes rot in her google docs bc she's not happy enough with it??? gasp. maybe. thank you to my lovely @ak4e7a for being so patient with me and reading what i write before anyone else so i don't look stupid i love you mama

WARNINGS fingering, spit, biting, implied oral f!rec, cum eating

Jake’s pout got somehow more pronounced than what it already was when you, once again, refused to just take your medicine. He’d been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you just hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin. He even made sure to pick out a syrup that wouldn’t taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he could picture it right then in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again.

For how much you hated being sick, you seemed to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.

“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighed, resting the cap filled to the brim with sticky honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge.

“Not even that sick,” you huffed back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep.

“Yeah?” Jake looked at you with an arched brow, before pointing his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding ground for bioterrorism allegations.”

He stopped you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispered against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.

“Just wan’ you.”

“But you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?” he snickered, plump lips thinning into that gorgeous wide smile of his.

He knew damn well what you meant, a frustrated grumble spilling out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wanted you to say it out loud. The quiet part.

“Want…more,” you cranked one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slipped in it. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observed you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.

If Jake had to be completely honest with himself, he wasn’t particularly sad at you being a little sick.

Sure, it sounded mean to say out loud. But you were not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoyed doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to just take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl had a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work.

You were always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoyed knowing he was helping make it at least a little better for once.

You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he was making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprayed on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.

Jake took notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it. Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licked away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick didn’t help, being physically weak and needing rest didn’t stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you had nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupted your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You looked up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he was about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”

Really not being dramatic, but you thought you felt a boulder crush you right on your chest. You groaned, turning to the other side so you could sulk properly without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you would love to ride as soon as possible.

“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice was muffled by the pillow you were squishing your face against.

“What are you even doing.”

“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me,” you explained, grabbing the sides of the pillow and pushing them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles.

“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he barely whispered, the loving tone making your body feel light.

You suddenly pushed yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement, “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”

He looked at you for a moment, really looked at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too missed your touch, far more than what he was letting on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—had turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions, finding himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom.

As if sensing his resolve wavering, you added, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”

“A reward… for what?” Jake was thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever got like this, and he was enjoying every second of it, maybe even pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. But he didn’t care, not when he didn’t know when the next time he’d get to this would be.

“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”

“You still have a fever though,” he deadpanned. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”

“That.” you glared at him with all the fake anger you could muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”

“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”

“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words died in your throat as you felt the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee. You looked up to him as he slowly got inside the covers, right next to you. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispered against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he snuck an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his side. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”

You reached for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guided it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you ground your pussy against it.

You took notice of how his breath hitched in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you used his hand, the illusion wearing off even more when he tried to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You knew he wanted it just as bad as you did, you were just willing to beg for it as long as it got you what you wanted. “I’ll—” you audibly gasped when he flexed his fingers just that tiny little bit you needed to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”

“Anything?” he teased you, voice light and airy as he moved the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickled your neck, Jake’s mouth having dipped down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Anything, just… please,” you whined, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.

If you hadn't been so deprived of Jake’s touch up until then, you would have found the way you were grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you were desperate, so you couldn't bring yourself to care about how pathetic you probably looked.

Jake though, oh he enjoyed it thoroughly. His cock was stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you were through your shorts. Dripping already and he had barely touched you. You were just so fucking hot.

“You’ll take your medicine then?” He moved his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak one clawing at his arm in an attempt to get the little taste of pleasure he was giving you back. He kissed his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”

“Take my medicine,” you whimpered, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little cheeky shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.

“Theeeere we go,” Jake sang in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”

You nodded, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound would make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh came up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smoothed over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.

“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbled, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your neck. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole onto your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.

His free hand finally slid under your shorts, a gasp leaving you because of how cold he felt. Jake was always warmer than you, but your fever made it so his touch felt icy against your skin. Your back arched slightly when one of his digits parted your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.

“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggled into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly dragged them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”

Usually you would’ve groaned at his stupid little jokes and pushed his face away. But this time, blame his voice being deeper and hoarser than normal or blame your fever, it got you clenching around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he took his sweet time playing with you.

Your head dug deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.

“So needy…” he breathed into your neck, going back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he could reach.

A yelp left your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you had closed shooting open when Jake bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smoothed over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, pleasure overriding anything else.

Jake finally prodded two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction was instantaneous, pussy hole fluttering against his fingertips right away, he just had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”

Jake was so fucking turned on, he could barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind was get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He felt like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life was just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seemed different to him, almost animalistic, the way you rutted your hips against his hand as soon as he started scissoring his fingers inside you, the way you weren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this was just from his fingers.

You yourself weren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you helped Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you felt from the fever. His fingers were so long, hitting all the right spots you knew you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles dragged against your walls so deliciously.

“S-so good,” you gasped when he turned his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knew had you coming undone in just a few strokes.

The room was filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You could feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashed on you, heavy and almost painful. You clawed at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake was not facing you anymore.

He looked over his shoulder to the comforter, the cap filled with syrup still there amidst the mess. He twisted his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he was fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spilled onto his shirt as he took a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tried his best to hold it in his mouth. You were still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty so much so you didn't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend was providing you.

“J-jake, I’m so close.”

Perfect timing.

Jake grabbed your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure he always did to signal it was time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he knew you to be. And you did just that; immediately following his movements like he had trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure. He bent down slightly to aim better. But this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expected, he let small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.

You uselessly tried to back away from him, but he held you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor did he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand held your jaw open, grasp getting firmer everytime you tried to break free of it. After all, you made a promise, and he was going to make sure you fulfilled it.

“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouthed against your lips once he had made sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”

He smashed his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss as a silencing of any complaint you were about to spit it at him. Those turned to even more whines when he finally brought his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucked you to your orgasm. It was almost instantaneous, but you just couldn't have helped it even if you tried; you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit

“That’s it baby, so good for me yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slowed down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too was relishing in how your cunt pulsed against his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh he wished it were his cock being constricted like that instead. But that could wait.

You finally felt like you could breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you could, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.

The sheets were drenched around you, and you couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you could immediately tell you weren't the only one who had made a mess. Your gaze wandered to Jake’s pants, a very evident stain on his crotch catching your attention. And fuck, if you weren't ready to do it all over again.

Jake looked absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste truly.

You snuck your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake let out when you wrapped your hand around his cock and pumped a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.

Jake watched you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you licked your fingers clean. He slid his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up as much as you just did to him. His heart raced in his chest as you kept looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.

“That was so…” you spoke up, giggling when Jake interrupted you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”

“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”

Jake curled an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He placed a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”

“Well I still hav–”

“And won’t.” he deadpanned, sensing where you were trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling featherlight kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He placed a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grabbed a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rested his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you said, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzled his head further against your skin.

“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He placed another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you took too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”

“Jake. I’m being serious.”

“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughed at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”

“You are downright insufferable.”

“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”

The rest of the sentence was muffled against your mound as you pushed his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggled as you laid back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue made contact with your cunt.