#and she’s looking around for doors for me so i do appreciate that

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: A Walk in the Park

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

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

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

You push through the door of the lobby and hold it open for the elder woman hunched over her walker. You patiently let her through but she doesn’t even acknowledge your deed. It’s too bad that most times you help people, you don’t even seem to notice. That’s fine. You’d feel worse to see her struggle. 

She heads for the outer door but before you can rush over to get that too, someone else does. You blanch as you recognise the man with the bristly mustache. It’s Lloyd. You haven’t seen or heard from him in the week since the sandwich shop encounter. You just assumed it was another random crossing of wires. 

The woman mutters as she passes through the door and his cheek twitches as he waits until he’s through to let go. He shakes his head and turns to you, “there ya are. Didn’t know your unit so kinda just been hanging around.” 

You blink, “you’ve been waiting on me?” 

“That lady was a grouch, huh? Not even a thanks. Telling ya, tootsie roll, you’re too sweet,” he says. That pet name is cute but a bit much. 

“Um, yeah, but she’s probably in a lot of pain. Maybe one day I’ll be in the same way and someone will hold the door for me,” you shrug. “But uh, why exactly are you waiting in my lobby?” 

“Friends stop by to say hello, don’t they?” He grins.  

“Sure, but uh...” 

“You said we’re friends so... did I misread this? Were you just being nice? The way you do, huh? Because lying isn’t very nice, tootsie.” 

You shake your head, “no, I just... I don’t know. I’m surprised. That’s all.” 

“Good surprise?” He lifts a brow. 

“Yeah, of course,” you squeak. 

“Mm, and where are you off too, besides helping little old ladies?” He challenges. 

“Just going for a walk. I like to walk through Garnet.” 

“Garnet? You mean the sh—the path down there?” He points to the wall and you nod. 

“They have pretty flowers.” 

“It’s... almost winter,” he sniffs. 

“Yeah, I know. I like it though. There’s still ducks around.” 

He nods, his eyes narrowed discerningly, “you always see the silver linings, don’t ya?” 

“I try,” you shrug. 

“Well, can I crash your walk? Could stand to stretch my legs.” 

You nod and hum, “that’s fine.” 

“Just fine?” 

“Lloyd,” you give him a look, “you’re more than welcome to walk with me.” 

You tuck your earbud case away. The left one is broken anyhow. He pulls the door open again and waves you out. 

He follows and catches up to you on the sidewalk. You walk down the pavement and breathe in the brisk air. You fix your beanie over your ears and slip your hands up your sleeves as you cross your arms. 

“Damn cold, isn’t it?” He puffs a cloud of steam into the air. 

“I can’t wait for the snow,” you say.  

Your father always loved the wintertime. You would watch the flakes drift down and build a snowman, even a tiny one if there wasn’t very much, and you’d have hot chocolate on the porch in your mittens and pajamas. And Christmas... 

You push away that thought. 

“You’re quiet? You alright?” He nudges you with his elbow. You flinch. You forgot he was there for a second. 

“I’m wonderful. How are you? How’s your ear?” 

“My ear...” he echoes. “You remember?” 

“Did you get it looked at? Does it still hurt?” 

“Yeah, it’s alright. Still a bit fuzzy on that side,” he shrugs. “It’s whatever. I’m a big boy.” 

“Right, but did a doctor say so or--” 

“You worry about me that much, tootsie?” He scoffs. 

“It’s important. You never know, could be worse than you think. And if it’s nothing at all, at least you know,” you say. You don’t want to nag him, even if you should have nagged your dad. Maybe... 

“No, I didn’t. Really, it’s not the first time I got a good blast to the ear,” he says. 

“Right,” you accept as you turn through the gate to the park. The arch is missing letters but it’s still beautiful. 

He sighs again and rubs his hands together. “God, I hate the cold.” 

“You should get gloves,” you uncross your arms and reach into your pocket, “I don’t know, mine might be too small.” 

You offer him the woolly mittens. He clicks his tongue, “that’s cute, definitely too small.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and chatters. You look at his jacket. You try to see the inside above the collar. “What are you doing?” He glances at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Is that lined?” You ask. 

“What?” 

“Your coat. Is there a lining in it? It looks thin.” 

“I’m just fine, mom, thanks,” he snips sharply. 

“Gosh, sorry, I just... I could sew a lining into it. I replaced the inserts in my boots too. It’s not that hard.” 

He furrows his brow, “it’s whatever. I spend most of the winter south. Right by the equator where it’s nice and sunny.” 

“Ooo, that sounds cool,” you say. “By the ocean?” 

“Surrounded by it,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Wow. I’ve never seen the ocean.” 

“You haven’t... tootsie, what’re ya doin’ to me? You’re lying.” 

“Nope,” you shake your head. “I’m sure one day I will. Is it pretty?” 

He looks at you and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, “yeah, it’s... beautiful,” he looks ahead thoughtfully. “Guess I should pay more attention, but yeah, real blue and big and sh—stuff.” 

You bounce on your feet and stop suddenly. You hit his arm and point, “don’t scare him.” 

He nearly trips as you gesture to the little chipmunk on the broken bench. You can’t help a squee as it skitters onto the seat and glances around nervously. You squeeze Lloyd’s sleeve without thinking. 

“He’s so c-y-ute!” You say, “isn’t he?” 

He doesn’t answer right away but you’re too enamoured with the tiny critter to care. 

“Yea, super cute,” he agrees at last. 

[evanescencelovrr]

You have a tough week at work

hey yall—tough ass week here. i needed to write this cute fluffy moment with reader x simon x price ughhh. my poor heart is mush atp. enjoy!! pls like comment and reblog to share the love <3

notes: she/her pronouns used, lots of fluff & reader struggles for acceptance affection. Lovie, lovebug, love nicknames are used.

I think after a long week and shedding tears over a tub of ice cream—Simon & Price decide you’ve had enough.

First you come through the front door frowning, your usual scowl and eyes twitching from the lack of sleep. Your neck sags, shoulders hunching from the heavy bag and responsibilities weighing on you. You feel like you’re never enough.

Immediately Simon rounds the kitchen corner, not hesitating to take your shoulder bag off—lengthy fingers curling around the strap. You could see the warm lamps are lit, the fireplace on and going which never failed to make you feel at ease in tough times. The flames roared with life.

You trace your eyes to look up all puffy eyed and your nose red—most likely from just crying in frustration. You stiffen up for a moment at him seeing you like this, and faintly you could hear Price cooking in the kitchen. It smells of warm food.

“Lovie, give it up.” Simon said gently—much gentl(er) to you than he would with anyone. His brow was raised and he’s got that scolding look to him.

One that told you to bite down on any resistance.

So you did, too tired to fight and knowing it would be useless. You give the bag to him, and Simons’ hunky form maneuvers to the couch, where he placed it down. His mask if off, wearing sweatpants and a longsleeve knit you got him. His rugged features glow softly in the fire light, oranges and yellows lighting his irises.

Price then calls out from the kitchen, “Is the love bug back already from work?”

“Aye, I got er’.” Simon responds gruffly—turning around when he heard you groan.

There you were trying to take your shoes off, bent over and fingers sluggish working the laces. Damn thing wouldn’t undo itself. Tears sprung up in frustration, finding the simple task so demanding and exhausting. And it didn’t help every muscle protested in pain.

“Lovie—“ Simon closes the distance with his house slippers and holds up upright by your elbows.

“I-I can’t do it.” You say weakly, frowning. Apart of you feels like you needed to “adult,” better—but this week? This week was a mess.

You hear a clank from the kitchen.

“Lovie, come, none f’that, yea? Let’s get you sorted.” Simon briefly caresses your cheek with warm tender fingers, and you find yourself aching for more when he pulls away, round wide eyes gazing.

Simon doesn’t miss the look you gave him and knows. He knows what you need. He gently leads you to the couch, making you sit. He makes sure the pillows are fluffed and places one behind your back to support you, and occasionally hearing your sniffles.

“I’m sorry—“ You begin to say, voice shaky and on the verge of sobs. You felt guilty for making them care, but then again it was their job as well. They looked out for you, you looked out for them.

Simons heart aches as he hears you. The woman he knows who is determined, strong and wise is now hurting. Vulnerable, cracked open. He knows what this must feel like, since he did too at some point of his life.

It was a hard choice—sharing how you felt. And be found himself appreciative of how you let him take care of you tonight. He was determined to put your stressed soul at ease, doing whatever you asked for if you did.

So, his warm voice floated in, as deft fingers loosened your shoe laces, gentle warm eyes peering up at you from under his brows.

“Lovie, its a’right. A big man like me can untie y’er shoes, no?” Simon says lightly, lip lifting up slightly.

That earns him a swift grin from you despite the tears and your chest warms. You know Simon could do a lot more. It was so secret anymore who he was, his past, and Price as well. His large hands slide under your ankles, supporting it up into his lap.

Price then turns the stove off and you hear soft padding. Simon slips off your shoes and tosses them aside—his attention immediately back onto you. He could care less of the shoes. He wanted-needed to know if you were okay.

Price wiped his hands on the rag—his face falling when he saw you, his love bug all teary and crestfallen.

“Dove, let me make you a cup of tea.” Price said firmly, without question. He knows you must be a bundle of nerves and felt frazzled. A nice tea outta do it, he thought. Inside, he was worried.

He worked with ease at the kitchen, tall form hardly needing to stretch an arm up to open the cupboard. He already reached its height anyway.

Immediately he steeped a bag, a nice peppermint tea. In your cute little mug you always loved—the one with pink and white fluffy clouds, with golden stars painted and the moon. He found himself warming at the sight—you.

You were everywhere and he loved it. Little remnants.

He returned and Simon got up to sit next to you, a hand rubbing your back. He softened at the sight and crouched down in front your resting form. He saw the eye bags wearing you down, the redness of your eyes and how irritating the skin was from all the rubbing. Most likely wiping your tears off.

He could see the frown lines, the way your eyes had glossed over in exhaustion.

He felt even more concerned—maybe even livid at the way work had drained you. Nonetheless, his priority was you, not blowing up because of your work.

“Love bug, d’ya think you could sit up for me?” Prices’ warm voice said, one large hand holding your cute mug, the other resting on your knee.

You gently nudged your head in acknowledgement—which was resting on Simons shoulder. All warm and content.

You moved to sit up and uncurled your legs, warming at the sight of Price holding you mug.

Not just any mug.

And the tea you loved too.

Tears sprung up again and you grabbed at the mug, holding it.

“Lovie—“

“Love bug—“

They both said immediately at your tears.

“I’m okay…just overwhelmed by your support.” You managed a small smile, eyes flitting to meet both their concerned ones.

Simon had his brows furrowed, an arm slung back behind you. But now he moved to lean in, a hand touching your back again.

He nodded, meanwhile Price continued rubbing your knee in a comforting manner, thumb drawing circles now.

“Love, you have nothing to apologize for. We know its been hard for you lately.” Price said in a soothing low tone, brows raising. He lowered his head to get a look at you—although not staring holes into you.

He watched as you drank your tea, sighing in relief.

“I-It was.” You began, “I lost track of time and missed some deadlines at work. My Boss has been upset.” Your voice cracked as you explained, and the tears sprung up.

Both of them knew how late you were staying at work, and to hear your inconsiderate Boss only add fuel to the fire was maddening.

Simons’ chest puffed out, taking a breath in—and Prices’ eyes flashed momentarily, only to soften when he spoke to you.

“Just let it out lovie.” Simon said softly, a large hand brushing your hair aside as you cried. Tears dripped down and Simons calloused hand cupped your cheek, rubbing them away. Gently. He wasn’t used to this—but with you, it came so naturally.

There was this feeling in him you reached deepest. It only amplified in moments like this. He didn’t even know he was capable of being gentle still, yet you brought it out in him.

Price patted your leg softly, “Easy love. Let me get you some good food in that tummy. I made you your favorite.”

With that you look up at him as he arose, and Prices’ eyes crinkled underneath with his warm smile. His heart melted—a mixture of concern and care as your eyes were watery and half lidded. He reached a hand to cup your jaw, stroking the tender skin before gliding to the kitchen.

You sniffled and leaned into Simons arms, needing warmth and comfort. Immediately he accepted—no questions asked. He didn’t stiffen up the way he would when you first met him. He let you in completely, loving you the way you did to him when he was lost.

He knew you needed someone to lean on. Both physically and mentally.

“Love, we got this, aye? You jus’ let us do the big work. Don’ worry bout’ bein’ big. And doin’ the big things.” He would whisper soothingly into your hair, a large arm wrapping around your shaky form.

It curled around you so easily, and you closed your eyes, cheek nuzzling his chest. He softened even more, hand reaching up to wipe your face.

But before he did, he made sure to tilt your head up so he could get a good look to clean it.

“There she is.” Simon whispered, affectionately.

He heard Price shuffle back and you gave a soft smile—although weary.

The rest of the night was spent with Price feeding you, even if you complained about doing it.

Simon held you, your back to his chest while he figured he could learn to braid your hair. Halfway, as Price fed you a spoonful, perched onto the coffee table—Simon grumbled and spoke up.

“Lovie, you ave’ such nice hair—I don’t want to be an arsehole, but how in the hell do you manage it?”

Simon whipped the braid over your shoulder so you could see it. Price held the spoon up, cocking a brow at the braid—to which Simon glared.

What you saw had you laughing. It suddenly bubbled out—chest shaking and smile breaking out. Hair was sticking out, untucked properly in the braid. His tension was off so it looked like some braids were bigger than the other, and he fumbled with the hair tie which was slipping off.

“Lovie.” Simon whined roughly—although he couldn’t lie, seeing the lights on in your head again and the way you laughed—it had this man crumbling.

And Price—Price looked proud. Almost like: I knew we’d get her back. His smaller eyes were wide in joy, drinking in the way your shoulder scrunched and lips stretching.

“Simon—this is so sweet.” You say, sighing. God, laughter really was the best medicine, you thought.

And with that, Simons fingers began gently prodding your side to tickle you. You squirmed and hands scrambled to hold his broad shoulders—once again laughter pouring out like bubbles.

Price grinned, a lip quirking up, as he set the bowl aside, “I’m tryin’ to feed her.” But he was enjoying this well enough—

“Oh come on old man, you like this.” Simon teased, his voice slightly shaky as he tickled your squirming form.

He wasn’t wrong.

“Okay! Okay!” You stated, panting, and face red. You were still smiling, leaning to the side and holding up your hands with the widest grin at Simon.

“Good, lovie?” Simon asked.

“Good.” You repeated.

——

Lets just say, HR received multiple complaints from “two” anonymous sources who relentlessly called over and over.

It piled up until both got what they wanted—your Boss suspended for verbal harassment and having employees work overtime.

When you heard the news—you were glad and relieved. Didn’t need to deal with him ever again, you thought.

As you hummed and blasted your music in your headphones, tucked away in your room for the night, both Simon and Price grinned at each other.

[screaminglygay]

third time is a charm, right? (part seven)

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff, carol danvers x fem!reader (platonic), past carol danvers x natasha romanoff

summary: being surrounded by beautiful women makes you dizzy and irracional, but that´s just part of the life, hm?

warnings: swearing, ankle injury, messy relationship, that´s all i think:)

word count: 3.3k

an: what can i say? comunication is hard and messy, especially in these situationships

(italica = your thoughts)

The next morning, your ankle is still swollen and painful. Every step you take sends a sharp reminder of the previous night's events. And the headache from drinking is not much of a helper either. As you sit on the couch, contemplating your next move, you remember the business card Carol handed you. Hesitating for a moment, you finally pick up your phone and dial her number.

Fuck it.

After a few rings, Carol answers, her voice warm and slightly curious. "Danvers speaking," her voice is firm.

"Hi, Carol. It’s me, (Y/N)," you say, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I, uh, I’m having trouble with my ankle. And you said to call you if anything… so I´m calling."

Carol's tone immediately shifts to one of concern. "Oh no, okay. Have you seen a doctor?"

You shake your head, even though she can’t see you. "No, I haven’t. I just thought it might get better on it´s own over night, but it hasn’t."

"Okay, don’t worry," Carol says reassuringly. "How about I´ll drive to yours and help you out? Or get you into the hospital?"

It doesn’t take long before you hear a knock on your door. You hobble over and open it to find Carol standing there with a warm smile, holding a small bag.

"Hi," you greet her, feeling a bit shy.

"Hey there," Carol replies, stepping inside. "I brought some supplies for your ankle. Let’s take a look." She is wearing a black lather jacket, it suits her pretty well. You on the other hand just in oversized shirt and some sweatpants... well it´s not an outfit of the century.

She helps you back to the couch and kneels down to examine your ankle, her touch gentle and careful. "This looks pretty bad. We should get some ice on it and keep it elevated. You really should see a doctor."

"I know," you admit. "I just… everything’s been a bit overwhelming and doctor on top of it is just not the cherry on top I´d like."

Carol looks up at you, her expression soft. "I get it. You’ve been through a lot. But it won´t magicaly heal on it´s own."

You nod, appreciating her concern. As she wraps your ankle with an ice pack and props it up on a cushion, you feel a sense of comfort in her presence. She moves around your apartment with ease, making sure you’re comfortable and fetching anything you need.

"So," Carol says, settling down beside you. "How are you feeling after everything that happened with Natasha and Wanda?"

You sigh, leaning back against the cushions. "I’m still processing it all. It’s hard to do it while hangover and minus one leg."

Carol chuckles. "It’s okay to feel hurt and confused. They put you in a tough spot. Literaly."

"Thanks," you say softly. "For being here. I didn’t expect you to help me like this."

Carol smiles. "What are friends for? Besides, I couldn’t leave you struggling on your own. And honestly, I kind of enjoy your company."

You laugh lightly, the first time you’ve felt a bit of joy since the fallout with Natasha and Wanda. "So we´re besties now?"

"You cried on my shoulder while being drunk, isn´t it a typical way of making girl friends?" Carol teases.

"That is a fair point, yeah." You laugh.

Carol chuckles. "How about I cook us some lunch? I make the perfect grilled cheese."

"That sounds great," you say, feeling your spirits lift.

As Carol moves to the kitchen, you watch her with a mix of gratitude and curiosity. There’s something about her that makes you feel safe and valued, a stark contrast to the tumultuous relationship with Natasha and Wanda.

"I uh… noticed you´re also a CEO," you speak up, breaking the comfortable silence.

Carol chuckles, glancing over her shoulder at you. "Yeah. It’s been quite a journey."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "How did you get into it?"

Carol turns back to the stove, flipping the sandwiches with practiced ease. " I started in the Air Force, actually. But after some… complications, I transitioned into the business world."

You nod, impressed. "That’s amazing. I can see why you and Natasha might have some… tension."

Carol laughs, shaking her head. "Yeah, you could say that. Natasha and I have a bit of a rivalry going on. She’s always been competitive, and I guess I pushed her buttons in ways she wasn’t used to."

"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Carol plates the grilled cheese sandwiches and brings them over to the table, sitting down across from you. "Natasha is used to being the best at everything she does. When I started making waves with my company, she didn’t take it too well. We’ve had our fair share of professional clashes."

You smile, finding comfort in her honesty. "Has it always been this way?"

"Pretty much. When we were together, the rivalry was more playful. But after we broke up, it became more serious. She’s always been a bit salty about my successes, and I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed getting under her skin a bit." Carol asnwers.

You take a bite of the grilled cheese, savoring the warmth and flavor. "Sounds like it keeps you on your toes."

Carol nods. "It does. But honestly, I think we both thrive on it. It’s like a game we’re both determined to win."

You chew thoughtfully, feeling a bit more connected to Carol through her stories. "It must be exhausting, though. Always competing."

Carol leans back, her expression softening. "It can be. But it’s also what drives me. There’s a lot of professional pride involved. We’re both in industries where being at the top means everything. Natasha doesn’t like losing, and I’m not one to back down."

You smile, appreciating her honesty. "Like I´ve said… exhausting."

"Yeah, you get used to it after some time," Carol admits.

After finishing lunch, Carol insists on taking you to the hospital to get your ankle checked out. Reluctantly, you agree, knowing she’s right. The drive is filled with light conversation, Carol keeping your mind off the pain and the events of the previous night. Once at the hospital, a doctor examines your ankle, taking an X-ray to ensure there are no fractures.

Thankfully, it's not broken or badly sprained. The doctor advises you to rest for at least a week, keeping your ankle elevated and iced to reduce the swelling. As you leave with a wrapped ankle and a prescription for painkillers, you feel a wave of relief knowing it’s not serious. Carol stays by your side the entire time, making sure you’re comfortable and reassuring you that everything will be okay.

As you make your phone call to work, Carol drives back into your place in silence. Your boss is completly okay with you taking a break and she just wishes you to be okay soon. Carol smiles as she glance at you, "all good?"

You nod, "yeah, thanfully all good."

An hour later, you're both lounging on the couch, chatting about everything and nothing, when there's a sudden knock on the door.

You pause, feeling a flicker of anxiety. Carol notices your hesitation and gives you a questioning look. "Expecting anyone?"

You shake your head, pushing yourself up with a wince and hobbling to the door. Peering through the peephole, your heart skips a beat as you recognize the familiar faces of Natasha and Wanda standing on the other side.

"It's them," you whisper, more to yourself than to Carol.

Carol stands up, her expression turning serious. "What do you want to do? Do you want to talk to them?"

You hesitate, your mind racing. Part of you wants to hear them out, but another part remembers the hurt and betrayal. Finally, you take a deep breath and decide. "I guess I should see what they want."

With Carol staying in the living room, you open the door slightly, keeping the chain lock in place. "What do you want?" you ask, your voice steady but guarded.

Wanda looks at you with concern. "We just wanted to make sure you're okay," she says softly.

"I'm fine," you reply curtly. "I went to the hospital. They said it’s just a sprain."

Both Natasha and Wanda’s eyes widen in alarm. "You went to the hospital?" Natasha asks, a protective edge in her voice. "Did you drive there?!"

"I hurt my ankle," you respond, not wanting to get into details. "It´s not like I was hit by a car."

Wanda’s brow furrows in worry. "Why didn't you call us? We could have helped. Drive you there or something…"

You sigh, feeling the weight of their concern. "I didn't wanted to bother, given everything."

Natasha looks genuinely hurt. "We care about you. Despite everything, we do care."

You feel a mix of emotions, wanting to believe them but still wary. "I appreciate your concern, but I have someone helping me."

At that moment, Carol, having overheard the conversation, steps into view. "Hey, everything okay here?"

Natasha and Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise at seeing Carol. "Carol?" Natasha asks, a mix of shock and confusion in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Carol crosses her arms, her expression calm but firm. "I'm helping out a friend."

Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, a hint of tension in her voice. "Of course, it’s you, Danvers. Always showing up where you're least expected."

Wanda, sensing the rising tension, gently places a hand on Natasha’s arm to calm her. "Nat, please," she says softly before turning back to you. "We are glad someone is helping you."

You look at Wanda, knowing she meant her words, you give her a small smile.

Natasha looks at you, her eyes softening a bit despite the tension. "We just want to make sure you're okay, (Y/N). That's all."

You nod, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "I know. But right now, I need some space. Please understand that."

Wanda bites her lip, looking like she wants to say more but nodding instead. "Okay. We’ll give you space. But if you need anything, we’re here."

Natasha adds, "Take care of yourself." And looks at Carol, "Danvers," she nods.

Carol just nods, she doesn´t say anything else.

You close the door softly, leaning against it as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, "god."

Carol steps closer, giving you a reassuring smile. "You handled that well."

"Thanks," you reply, feeling relieved.

...

As the days pass, your ankle gradually heals, and you find yourself less reliant on Carol's physical help. However, the friendship that blossomed during your recovery continues to thrive. You and Carol text each other regularly, sharing updates about your lives, funny anecdotes, and supportive messages. Despite the pain caused by Natasha and Wanda, Carol’s presence has been a comforting and grounding force.

One evening, as you sit on your couch scrolling through your phone, you feel a wave of nostalgia and longing. Memories of the good times with Natasha and Wanda resurface, the emotions, the feelings, the touches… You hover over their contacts, unsure of what to do. Finally, with a deep breath, you decide to reach out.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard, debating between Natasha and Wanda. After a moment of indecision, you choose Wanda, her gentle nature feeling slightly less intimidating.

You: Hi, Wanda. How are you doing?

You hit send before you can overthink it. A few moments later, your phone buzzes with a response.

Wanda: Hey! I’m doing okay. How about you? How’s your ankle?

A smile tugs at your lips. Despite everything, it feels nice to hear from her.

You: It’s much better now, thanks. I’m getting back to normal, slowly but surely.

Wanda: I’m glad to hear that. We’ve been worried about you.

You: Really?

They been thinking about me… that feels nice.

Wanda: Of course. You’re important to us, even if we didn’t show it well.

You pause, feeling a mixture of emotions. It's comforting to know they care, but the hurt is still there, how could you be so stupid to think you can do only sex? You´re the person who can catch feeling even when someone will hold the door for you.

You: I appreciate that. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.

Wanda: About us?

You: Yeah. I miss you both, but I’m still hurt. What Natasha said really got to me. I know what we agreed on, but that doesn´t mean it wasn´t painful.

There's a pause, and you can almost feel Wanda's regret through the screen.

Wanda: I understand. Natasha feels terrible about it. She doesn’t always handle her emotions well.

You: I get that. I just… I don’t know where we stand anymore.

Wanda: Can we talk? In person, I mean. It might be easier. All of us.

You hesitate, the fear of getting hurt again battling with the desire to mend things.

You: Can you come to mine tomorrow then?

Wanda: Is 3PM okay for you?

You: It is.

Wanda: Perfect!

You put your phone down, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Before you go to bed, you send a quick text to Carol about your conversation with Wanda, she wishes you a good luck and you have a feeling of hope, feeling that everything will be okay. You will talk like a grownups… that´s great right? Something you were always so perfect about and defiently not going quiet, when there was something you didn´t like.

It´s gonna be just fine.

...

The next day, the clock seems to tick by more slowly than usual. You try to tidy up your apartment, trying to keep busy to calm your nerves. By the time 3PM approaches, you feel a knot of anxiety in your stomach. You hear a knock at the door and take a deep breath before walking over.

Peeking through the peephole, you see Wanda and Natasha standing there. Wanda in her flower dress looks hopeful, while Natasha appears a bit more stoic, though you can see the concern in her eyes.

You open the door slightly, enough to see them but still feeling cautious. "Hey," you say softly.

"Hey," Wanda responds with a small smile. "Can we come in?"

You hop back, opening the door wider to let them in. As they enter, they both notice the slight limp in your step.

Natasha's eyes narrow with concern. "Is your ankle still hurting?"

"It's better," you say, avoiding their gazes. "I can walk, I just look like an idiot, while doing so." You chuckle, trying to ease the situation.

Natasha's face hardens. "But you´re still in pain?"

"I´m okay, nothing I can´t take." You assure them.

Wanda nods, "can we help you right now in any way?"

You slowly walk to the couch and shake your head. "No, not really. But feel free to take whatever you´d like, coffee, water…"

Natasha nods and makes a coffee for herself, while she takes a juice for you and Wanda.

You sit down, feeling the weight of their presence. "So…?"

Wanda sits across from you, her eyes soft and pleading. "We´re sorry. For everything. Natasha and I… we handled things poorly."

Natasha nods, her expression serious. "We never meant to hurt you. What I said… it was wrong, and I regret it."

You look between them, feeling the sincerity in their words. "You don´t need to apologize milion times, you know."

Wanda shakes her head. "We do. We care about you, deeply. We just didn’t know how to handle our own emotions. And we… well screw it up."

Natasha takes a deep breath. "We want to make things right. If you’re willing to give us another chance."

You sit back, contemplating their words. "Do you think I would let you in here, if I didn´t think about giving you a second chance?"

Both Wanda and Natasha look taken aback, their eyes widening in surprise.

Wanda’s gaze softens, a glimmer of hope appearing. "You’re… you’re willing to give us another chance?"

"I am doing that right now, or… that wasn´t obvious? Gosh we are really shitty at comunicating… all of us." You chuckle, making the two ladies laugh as well.

Wanda smiles, "good to know, okay."

Natasha looks down, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve. “We’ve had issues with communication in the past, too. I can see now that it kinda affected us… me.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “I also need to admit that I misread the situation. Even after we set terms, I hoped for something more. I thought maybe…”

Wanda reaches out to touch your hand. “We should have been clearer. But you also need to understand that we weren’t completely upfront either.”

Natasha’s expression turns serious. “The truth is, you’re not the first person we’ve been involved with. We’ve had others before you. And, honestly, it hasn’t always been great.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, but also suprised that Natasha is openning up right now.

Natasha hesitates for a moment, then continues. “We’ve had partners who were… different from you. They were often rude, mean, and only interested in our money. They were possessive and only saw us for what we could provide, not who we are.”

Wanda adds, “That’s why we were so cautious with you. We didn’t want to fall into the same patterns, but in doing so, we ended up hurting you instead. Basically did the thing we were so worried about.”

Natasha looks at you, her eyes filled with regret. “I freaked out because I didn’t want you to be like them. I was afraid of repeating the mistakes we made before. And when you showed up in the office, I just… lost it completly.”

You absorb their words, feeling a mix of empathy and frustration. “Alright, I understand, but… we all have our baggage, and it’s up to us to work through it together.”

Wanda’s eyes soften. “You’re right. We need to be more open and honest about our feelings and our pasts. And we need to listen to you, too.”

Natasha nods, her expression is soft, not to firm as it was before.

You take a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease. “I appreciate your honesty. I’m willing to work on this with you."

Wanda smiles gently. “Thank you for being willing to try. We’ll do our best to show you that we can be different.”

Natasha adds, “We’ll start by being more transparent and communicating better. That’s a promise. How about we start again?" She exhales.

"You saw me naked, I don´t think we can start again." You chuckle, while your cheeks heat up.

Wanda giggles, "then how about we go on a date, proper one? Tomorrow?"

A proper date? Hold on… so it´s not a just sex anymore. I´m confused.

Both women can notice your puzzled face and Wanda takes your hand in hers, "proper date as… we would like to try this," her hand squeezes yours, "to be more than just a sex."

Oh shit. Nice. Cool. Okay. Calm down. It´s fine. All good.

"If you don´t have plans with Davnvers, of course." Natasha speaks up, you can hear the slight jealousy in her voice. Which makes the younger woman roll her eyes at her girlfriend.

"I don´t no," you shake your head. “Tomorrow works perfectly fine for me.” You agree enthusiastically, feeling a surge of happiness at the thought of a proper date.

Nat smirks, "perfect."

"So we will pick you up at… 7PM?" Wanda smiles.

You nod, trying to ease the exitement.

With a final exchange of smiles and assurances, Wanda and Natasha prepare to leave. They give you a warm hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek. As you close the door behind them you let out a squek of happiness and some kind of celebration dance? But your ankle reminds you, that dancing is not a good idea yet.

Maybe third time is really a charm!

Thank you so much for reading!!

taglist: @arualdcg, @beholdagaywriter, @snowdrop1026, @itsdoni, @newawakening9​, @aliherreraaa, @zzswiftyzz, @lesbiantothemoonandback, @maggieromanov

If you want to be added, just let me know!:) keep in mind you have to be 18+

[blindvogel]

I owe this epiphany and inspiration to @nin-dy-tro and to remembering The Flame Eternal, Emmrich's short story. So what if a coffin is not just a coffin?

~~~

There have been rumbling noises coming from Emmrich’s study for the past few days and while Kamari is curious she also finds herself barred from it by a very adamant Manfred. She doesn’t begrudge Emmrich his privacy or a secret but he’s been acting strange - nervous in a way she hasn’t seen him for a very long time if ever. 

So she is relieved to finally be invited in one evening, fetched by Manfred who clatters off once he delivers her to the door. They are long since past the need to knock but she still gives the door two quick raps before entering. Tonight feels different, special. 

The light in the room is dim, provided only by the flickering flames of the fireplace and a small handful of candles. Kamari’s eyes take a moment to adjust before she sees Emmrich standing by his desk, and only then notices the large shape in the middle of the room. A coffin. 

“Ah. Good evening, my dear.” He takes a few steps towards her, then stops, his fingers twining over and over as if he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. In the dim light she can just make out that his smile is there but a little strained. 

She drifts towards him, curious, confused, until her direct path is blocked by the coffin between them. “What is this about, Emmrich?” Her hand comes to rest on the edge of the open coffin, feeling the cool smooth marble against her fingertips. 

He clears his throat and makes a sweeping gesture, not quite holding her gaze. “I wanted to show you this. What do you think?”

Kamari acquiesces and turns her attention from Emmrich to the coffin. Perhaps this way she can figure out what has put him in such a state. Her fingers continue their exploration along the open lid and find intricate carvings that she can’t fully appreciate in this light but they are hewn into the marble with great precision that could only have come from a fine workshop in the Necropolis. The stone itself is a pearly white, almost glowing in the firelight - and she understands now why he had dimmed any other source. The upholstery on the inside looks soft, and she doesn’t resist the urge for too long to run her palm over it. 

A soft voice in her head whispers that perhaps to anyone else this would be macabre and strange but she has been born and raised in Nevarra, in the Necropolis, and a coffin like this…

Her eyes suddenly focus on the proportions, on the wider than normal width, the way the headboard curves just so. It’s meant for two.

Kamari’s mouth is suddenly dry, her heart beating so fast it could fly out of her chest. She swallows, then looks up to find Emmrich’s eyes fastened to her face, full of warmth and nervous anticipation.

“It’s beautiful, love,” she says, hearing her own voice crack. 

(And Bellara’s, incredulous, in her ear - He proposed with a coffin?)

“So you think you could imagine resting in it one day- with me?” His voice is quiet, hoarse with emotion. She rounds the coffin then so she can reach out for him, take his face gently in both hands. “I would love nothing more.” If there are any other words, they remain unsaid as his arms wrap around her and pull her close, his mouth finds hers in a breathless kiss.

[gojoidyll]

stubborn heart ch. 6

yan!capitano x wife!reader

summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.

previous | next

“M’lady,” your maid bowed to you as she opened your carriage door. After getting ready for the day, you had quickly left the house with your maid following after.

“Thank you,” you said as your attention was soon brought to the bookstore. It was the best one that Snezhnaya has with a grand selection all around. Just thinking about what books you could get today excited you to no end.

“Back again,” the cashier said with a grin as you entered the bookstore. Smiling sheepishly at being recognized so easily, you nodded, “it seems I just can’t stay away,” you answered.

“Your patronage is always appreciated. If you need help finding anything, please don’t be afraid to ask.”

You pondered her words for a moment, before nodding to yourself, “about that. Do you think you can give me some book recommendations?”

The cashier immediately brightened at your words as she clapped her hands together, “I would be happy to! I have some favorites that I have just been dying to share with people, but its always hard to find people who are interested in the same thing…”

“Well,” you started, “I’ve been told that I would read just about anything. Back at the Hearth I would resort to reading cookbooks or how to manuals if I ran out my normal reading material.”

The cashier chuckled at your words, “well, not to worry, I won’t be recommending anything like that,” she moved from behind the counter and gestured for you to follow, “come on, I’ll show you where my favorite section is.”

When she turned to walk off you and your maid followed.

“And here we are,” she stopped in front an aisle and walked into it, and as she would run her fingers along the spines of the book she stopped on a specific one, “this one was just too good,” she said as she pulled it out, but before she handed it to you, she hesitated.

“Something wrong,” you asked.

“Well.. how do you feel about romance books?”

“Oh! I like them a lot! It’s one of my favorites honestly.”

“And what about romance with a little… spice to it?”

Spice? You weren’t exactly sure what that meant…

“Uhm, sure. I’m fine with that too.”

“Perfect!”

Her hesitation was long gone as she handed the book to you, “Arkan is by far the perfect fictional man by the way, he’ll have you wishing you were in the book!”

You looked down at the title as she handed it to you.

Most of the romance books you read were short fantasy stories, and most of the time the main characters only had titles and didn’t have names. Like the book Capitano was reading to you. The princess, knight, and the prince didn’t have any names or stuff like that. So, having a romance book with characters who had actual names may be a good change of pace.

“Thank you! Do you by chance have any other recommendations?”

“Of course!”

Throughout the rest of the time you spent there, the cashier lady kept telling you the level of spice of a book which continued to confuse you, but not wanting to seem like an idiot you kept acting like you knew what she was talking about. Though, luckily, she did give you some books to buy that didn’t have any “spice” in them whatsoever.

“M’lady,” your maid said as you both finally made it back to the manor.

“Yes,” you asked as you helped her carry the many books you had bought today.

“You… do know what that cashier meant, right?”

“About what?”

“Spice.”

You two had made it to the library easily, the both of you quickly setting the books down to give your arms a break.

“Uhm… about that,” you said with a sheepish look on your face, “not really.”

Your maid seemed to blush lightly at your words as she reached for your hand, “then please excuse me, I don’t know how to tell you this but…”

“But what?”

“The amount of spice in a book correlates to the amount of sexual content it has.”

Your maid broke it down to you as if she was telling you that your pet dog died.

“Hah?”

It took a few moments for your brain to properly register what she had just told you, “HAAAAAAH?!?!?!”

You broke your hand free from her grasp as immediately slapped both of your hands to your burning hot cheeks, “what do you mean?!?!!? Are you telling me that I just b-bought- bought sex books?!”

“Well,” she said, “its not like every single page is specifically sex, but if its super spicy then I can guarantee you that there will probably be a lot of it…”

You crouched down to the floor, your hands falling from your red, hot cheeks as you went to hug yourself. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

You heard of sex, of course, but you never once did it yourself nor do you know how to do it. Hell, even when the other older girls in the hearth started talking about their “experiences” and even how they pleasure themselves alone you would always run out of the room. You always thought that that it was a topic you didn’t need to know, but of course that all changed when you literally got married a mere few days ago. Which, of course, is why you get so nervous every time the word consummate left Capitano’s mouth.

“M'lady?”

She crouched down next to you as she laid her hand on your back as if she was trying to soothe you.

“Yeah?”

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed. You didn’t know.”

“I know, but if Capitano finds out then that will just be another dumb thing I did that he’ll add to the list… I haven’t exactly been giving him the best impressions you know.”

Your maid patted your back, “don’t worry, he doesn’t have to know.”

Once again, your mind took a few moments to comprehend what she said, “h- huh? You- you aren’t going to tell him that I accidentally bought these types of books?”

Your maid shook her head, “of course not.”

You sniffled a little, “should we- should we take them back?”

Your maid shook her head at that, “to be honest, I think reading about sex will be easier for you than asking someone about it. I mean,” she giggled, “you and Lord Capitano have to consummate the marriage at some point.”

You scoffed, “I can’t believe you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry, but it is kind of funny!”

You huffed and looked away from her causing her to laugh again before patting your back once again, “but I am serious. Reading books like that can at least give you an idea of what to do.”

You sighed and thought it over. As much as you hated to admit it, she was right. You had no one to ask about how to properly have sex with someone and you definitely didn’t want to ask Father or Capitano about it. And you know you would be a laughingstock to the others at the Hearth if you asked them…

Maybe reading about it will help after all? Besides, it would be less embarrassing since it means you wouldn’t have to ask anyone, and as long as Capitano doesn’t find out about it, then you won’t have to crawl under a rock or try to explain yourself on how you accidentally bought some not so safe books.

“So?”

You sighed, “well, it would be better to read then ask about it, I guess…, but please. I’m being for real, don’t tell anyone about my screw up today.”

“Of course, m’lady.”

Right then and there, a new friendship bloomed. You learned that her name was Atri and in return you asked if she would stop calling you m’lady. She said she would, but only when no one else was around. To which you were you happy with.

taglist

@nas-ha @simp-simp-no-mi @emmathecouchpotato4583 @sendria @riotakire @littlekohai77 @lvtuss @kreishin @floffytofu @nastylilcvnt @mikoslightnovels @feral-childs-word @barbatoss-bitch @venicecherryblossom @squirrelboxer @temperamentupgrade @avalordream @immahuman @xavlyzn @greensunflowerjuna @sarah22447 @naviabestgiirl @nevermoresworld @depressedbearblogs @ppancakesforu @0vendettaself @lilyalone @mochiivqi

some say "no blogs found" when I try to add them </3

[fantasticsandwich]

yandere influencer x fem! reader (pt 14)

{tw for coercion}

Even several days after he'd transferred the money into your account, you were still trying to process the fact that your brother's tuition was paid in full. You cried and ran through its every iteration, weeping, sobbing, moping around, because while you were grateful, you knew that you'd never be able to repay Cillian for this grand act of kindness. When you decided you were finally able to see him without bursting into tears, you figured the least you could do to show your appreciation was purchase him something from his favorite cafe.

You didn't want to ruin the surprise, so you scrolled through your contacts until you found someone you hadn't talked with since graduating secondary school. Cillian's mother quickly responded, sending you their address. Inputting it into an online map, you were pleasantly surprised to discover that he lived within walking distance. The true shock came when you finally arrived at his house.

You only recalled that stout, faded brick building on the same street as yours. You hadn't visited Cillian after he moved households, and now, as you stared at the grand structure, felt a pang of envy and rage, the latter at how he'd kept his luxurious lifestyle hidden. Suddenly, you felt insecure about offering a measly cake in thanks.

Nevertheless, you steeled your nerves and approached, not minding how an elderly neighbor eyed you with suspicion. Before knocking on the door, you pressed your collar down and smoothed your skirt. Your palms felt sweaty as you grabbed the knocker and released it, allowing it to pummel the door. Almost as if they'd been waiting, someone instantly opened it. She had the same set of eyes and shaped lips. She didn't quite have the same jaw or the same nose, but otherwise, she was the spitting image of Cillian.

"Y/N!" She pulled you into an embrace, quickly pulling away to tuck flyaway strands behind your ears. "It's so nice to see you again! Cillian's been looking forward to your visit all day."

You blinked, certain you'd told her your visit was intended as a surprise. "Thanks? Are you alright?"

Nodding, she seized your shoulders and ushered you inside, using a tender force to push you through the hallway and into the living room. In her haste, she jostled you around. The cake you'd packed to snack on jostled around in your arms. You stumbled into the foyer, gawking as she slammed the door shut.

Left alone, you traced each crystal hanging from the chandelier on the ceiling, the expensive decor. You hadn't been to Cillian's house since his family 'made it,' and now, you understood why. Cillian must've known that, instead of feeling comfort or recalling a fond memory from your childhood, you'd only feel like you didn't belong.

Another voice stirred the silence, somewhat warming you.

"What are you doing here?"

"Lee," you started, relieved at the sight of him. "Hey! I thought you would like this." You lifted the take-out bag to display the contents, but he tilted his head. "Got it from that cafe you love." 

"Why did you come here?" he bluntly asked.

Smile faltering, you stumbled over your words. "Do I need a reason?"

"Not at all," he breezily said. "It’s just… Nothing. Never mind. I'm happy you're here." Huang Muchen stepped forward, and in the light you could see how his hair wasn't yet dried, causing his green locks to appear darker than they should be. "What happened?"

You half-heartedly smiled at him. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. Even when he was dressed casually, with a simple black shirt and sweatpants, he eluded beauty and grace. You would have barely recognized that those were his home clothes. 

"I just brought you a cake to say thanks," you dryly said. "You still fine with me staying? Or should I leave?"

"Why would you leave?" Cillian marched towards you, seizing the bag. Then, setting it aside on the couch, he swept you into his arms. "I'd have to be insane to pass up time with my girl."

Shrieking, you laugh and beg him to put you down. When had he gotten so strong? He lifts you as if you're nothing, going against your wishes and spinning around, causing you to feel vertigo.

What had caused his spontaneous nature today? Usually, Cillian was stiff-faced and severe, dutifully maintaining his image. You didn't know, but you were pleasantly surprised by this hidden playful side. And of course, by how strong he was. Thrown over his shoulder, you felt some muscles you hadn't noticed before. You felt him moving, propelling you to some unknown destination, trailing down a long hall lined with dark oak tiles.

He tossed you onto his bed. Silky sheets billowed around you, temporarily engulfing the world. When they fell back against the mattress, you were startled to find Cillian kneeling over you, arms caging you in on either side.

"Hi," you stuttered, startled by his handsomeness at such proximity.

"Hi," he responded.

You counted the moments with each thud of your heart against your ribcage. One, two, three anxious flutters, then his lips were on yours, ravenous as he siphoned the breath from your lungs. Mind on overdrive, you tried returning his zeal, grabbing his collar for leverage. Your body tingled, but you ignored the strange pit forming in your stomach. Cillian's desires weren't odd. Neither was him acting on them. He was your boyfriend. You were going to have to get used to this sooner or later.

That was what you told yourself, but when his hand crept from your waist to the waistband of your jeans, you felt a sudden jolt of panic and seized his wrist, sheepishly grinning. When he looked up, his eyes lacked their usual sheen. Gulping, you quickly tried to set things straight. It wasn't that you didn't want him, too. Only...

"You don't think it's too soon?" You whispered, refusing to meet his gaze. "I mean… We barely started dating. I don't know if—"

He answered your question with one of his own, sharply and slightly defensive. Huffing, "You trust me, don’t you?"

"Of course," you instantly confirmed, feeling your heart stutter.

"So just trust the timing," he replied, toying with the hem of your shirt. "It'd make me happy if you’ll just be good. I want us to enjoy each other."

The bedroom, dimly lit by the soft glow of a single bedside lamp, seemed to pulse with an electric charge as he guided you into his embrace. His lips crushed down on yours, devouring your mouth in a hungry kiss. His tongue dominated yours, stilling your breath as he explored your mouth. Meanwhile, his hands roamed beneath your shirt, thumbs encircling your nipples.

"Please," you panted, head falling back to reveal more of your neck, abandoning any vestiges of shame. Your hands slipped into his hair, holding him against you. "Touch me."

He murmured in agreement, his breath hot against your skin and he undressed you painfully slow, pausing between articles to press open-mouthed kisses to the newly barred flesh. The soft rustle of fabric and the sound of your breath hitched in your throat filled the room as Cillian finally stripped you bare, save for your underwear. The glasses, he let you keep, too. He wanted you to see him.

"Do you want me to show you what to do?" He asked, his voice low and smooth. "Or do you want me to make you feel good first?"

Yuqing hesitated, her glasses slipping down her nose as she nervously met his gaze. That need to please him, to maintain the love she cherished, gnawed at her. But there was another truth, one she couldn't keep hidden any longer.

"I—I should tell you," you stammered, your eyes darting around the room, seeking something else to help anchor you to the moment. "You're not... you're not the first person I've been with. The first time wasn't that great, but I trust—"

The tension in the room tightened like a coiled snake as Muchen's expression faltered. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with an emotion that seemed to swim between hurt and anger. A silent storm raged behind his eyes as he processed her words, his initial shock quickly turning into a seething jealousy. The air in the room thickened, charged with tension as if a thunderstorm loomed overhead.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly.

"I've been with someone else before," you sheepishly admitted, quivering under the intensity of his stare.

"Is that so?" His face contorted with possessiveness. "Then let me try something first to see how he ruined you."

Sharply inhaling, you decided to take the plunge. Nodding, you stared at the ceiling, releasing an anxious huff when Cillian's pried your knees apart. Smoothly, he positioned himself between your legs. He tilted his head, nipping at her inner thigh. You felt a gust of warm breath and shivered as his teeth grazed your tender skin. Desperate for him, your hands threading through his hair, guiding him where you wanted him most. But Cillian was in control, and he resisted your attempt to direct him.

"Cillian," you choked out, voice wavering. "I've never done this. It feels weird."

"You'll be fine," he murmured. Hooking his fingers around the side of your panties, he tugged them off your hips, discarding the pair onto his bedside table. "I need to make sure your pretty little pussy is ready to take me."

His kisses trailed higher, over your hips, then back down the insides of your thighs. You whimpered at the lack of attention, and Cillian's eyes locked with yours, a devilish glint in his gaze. Finally, without warning, he lowered his head, his tongue flicking over your clit. You threaded your fingers through the sheets as he sucked and licked, an arm resting across your hips to keep you where he wanted, while the fingers on his other hand spread you open, allowing him to delve deeper.

Cillian whimpered and groaned, mindlessly muttering praise as he devoured you. Your hips bucked, grinding against his face, desperate to feel more, but Cillian took his time, exploring your hole with his tongue before pulling away with a raunchy smack. Lips glistening, he greeted you with a smile. You frowned, displeased at the lack of attention, but he didn't seem keen to allow that expression to remain for long.

"Ready, baby?"

Breathless, you began, "Ready for—"

His head dropped back between your legs. His mouth reattached to your clit. Groaning against you, Cillian inserted a finger into your tight hole, slowly easing you open, scissoring and curling agonizingly slow while he continued to suck and lick your clit, not even stopping while your legs began to quiver around his head. If anything, your reactions spurred his frenzy. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending you higher. He added a second finger, stretching her further, his tongue never ceasing its magic.

Cillian continued pounding his fingers into you, scissoring and curling until you released a moan, announcing that he'd found that spot that had you seeing stars with every thrust. Your mind was lost, your body convulsing as your release flowed over his fingers and mouth.

"That’s it, love," Cillian praised, his fingers never ceasing their motion, milking every last drop of pleasure from you. Grabbing your legs, Cillian tugged you back down so you were facing him. Momentarily, you were face to face with his wide smile. The sight of the lower half of his face glistening with your slickness caused a wave of embarrassment to wash over you. "Silly girl. I'm not done with you just yet."

"What do you mean?" You asked, your eyes widening as you felt his hard member pressing against your thigh.

"Need to feel that sweet cunt around my cock," Cillian said, positioning himself at your entrance. Teasingly, he rubbed the tip against the hole.

"Lee," you moaned. "Too sensitive. Let me suck you for now."

Too focused on your studies, you hadn't been with someone in such a long time. All of the attention he was giving you was overwhelming, touching you so eagerly, and in ways you'd never before experienced.

Instead of jumping at the offer, Cillian glared. "Did he teach you that?" he demanded.

Meekly, you shook your head. "Wanna make you feel good, too."

Expression returning to his signature smile, he pressed his lips against yours. You tasted the remnants of yourself on him, saw yourself reflecting in his love-struck eyes. You'd never felt so desired. So wanted. He was desperate to have you, and you were ready to give and do anything for him in return.

"We can get to that later," he said. "For now, you'll take what I give you. Need to make you forget anyone else."

In your dazed state, it took you a moment to realize who he was talking about. When you realized, you flinched, a blush creeping up your cheeks at the memory. Cillian noticed your expression, and his nails pressed into the plump flesh of your thighs.

You whined, hips futilely rising to meet his. "Keep going, Lee. Please. Need you so bad."

You hoped your pleas would spur his hips into motion, but he continued, slopping thrusting into you. The lack of friction was driving you insane. Biting your lip, you permitted his teasing ministrations. Whatever jealous streak Cillian was going through, you'd just have to permit.

"But I need to know," he insisted, suddenly picking up the pace. He punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, pounding into you. "I need to know everything he did to this so I can do it better and make you forget him completely."

"His name was…" you began, the words catching in your throat as he dragged his thick cock against your walls, slamming into a spot that had you seeing stars. "Cillian!" You cried out, legs wrapping around his waist. You relented your grip on the sheets in favor of digging your nails into his skins

"Good girl, marking me up." Cillian's jaw clenched, but his hips continued moving at their languid pace, almost as if he were torturing you. "You're driving me crazy. So good for me." Save for his soft grunts and your moans, the only sounds filling the room was your sweat-slick skin against his as he picked up the pace, growing more frantic and rough as he chased his release. His voice grew less coherent with every thrust. "Gonna be my perfect girl and let me finish inside?" He pleaded, mouth falling to the crook of your neck, teeth sinking in. "Please, love. Wanna see my pretty doll stuffed with my cum. Wanna see it dripping out of you."

 Feeling a coil in your stomach, you squirmed, but he kept you pinned beneath him with a bruising hold, keeping you flush against him as thick, warm ropes of cum flooded your pussy. Vision blurred and mind suddenly clearer than ever, you lay there, staring at the clock against the wall as the room swam in and out of focus. Your body was a confusing mix of sensations, sore, yet strangely satisfied. With the sun dipping on the horizon, pale sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting eerie shadows.

You tried to move, but Cillian merely whined and pulled out, watching his cum spill out. He tried to scoop some up and prod your hole, but you hissed in protest, sharing your exhaustion. Almost mournfully, he relented: he had left no part of you untouched and still seemed keen to explore some more. Even then, he held fast to you, fingers tracing idle circles on your side, brushing aside the sweat-slick strands of your hair so he could view the marks he'd left on your neck.

You tried to ignore the tingling sensation where he had marked you and the numbness of your legs as he pulled you closer until your back was flush against his chest. Feeling his still-hard cock against your back, you couldn't help but shiver.

"Y/N," Cillian murmured, his voice suddenly tinged with a hint of remorse. It took you aback. You tried to turn and face him, but with a hand pressing down on your hip, he held you firmly in place. "I'm sorry if I acted odd. I just... I love you, you know? Always have. I just hate knowing that I didn't get to have you first. I don't like the idea of anyone else having you at all." He pressed a chaste kiss against your shoulder blade. You felt him rub his cock against you, felt him kneading the flesh of your ass. "So can I be the first to have you here? I'll make it feel good."

As you stared into Cillian's eyes, you felt the icy tendrils of your own destruction beginning to take root. You were thankful for everything he'd done so far, so it couldn't hurt...

It would, but you'd push through the pain with him wiping your tears, whispering sweet nothings as you finally gave him something no one else would ever steal from him, something that only he alone would have the chance to cherish.

this was my first time actually writing smut instead of only implying it so i'm sorry if it seems rushed/awkward/scattered 😅

[lulublack90]

Prompt 24 - Hint

@rosekillermicrofic September 24, word count 496

Previous part First Jegulus part

“They’re on their way back,” Sirius said, rousing Barty from his nap. “Oi, Crouch, go move that heap of junk, or he’s going to know something is up,” Barty stretched like a cat. His t-shirt rode up his abdomen, flashing his perfect abs. He peeked out from under his lashes and arched up even more, when he saw the appreciative looks on both Remus and Sirius’s faces. He loved being a tease. 

“I’ll be right back,” He stood up but immediately bent over to give Evan a sloppy, over-the-top kiss. He'd done heavy lifting today, he deserved to be a pest. 

His van groaned to life, and he patted the dusty dashboard. It had been through a lot with him, but he knew he’d have to part with it soon, there was no way it was going to get through its MOT and the amount of work it would need to be fixed would be astronomical, if it could even be saved. 

He moved the van around the corner, making sure he wasn’t in a permit-only area, grabbed the bag he’d hidden under the front seat and rushed back up to the flat to surprise Regulus. 

Barty went into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl. He opened the paper bag and dumped the contents into it before he artfully placed it in the middle of the coffee table, grinning like a madman at his little joke. Evan arched a brow at him but didn’t say anything.  

“Come on, James, give me a hint, why do you want to get me up here so urgently?” Regulus’s voice carried up the stairs as he let himself and James in the side door. Sirius facepalmed. 

“Oh, James,” He shook his head. Barty snorted. They should have sent Panda out with him instead of the bumbling puppy. At least she could keep her excitement contained. The key turned in the lock and the door opened.

“What the?!” Regulus started as he spotted them all crowded into his tiny living room. He walked in and stopped. “Are - are those my books?” He asked with tears in his eyes. 

“Barty and I broke into Grimmauld and got them for you,” Sirius beamed at him. Regulus threw himself into his brother's arms, squeezing him tight. His eyes fell on the coffee table and the bowl Barty had left there, filled with apples. Regulus rolled his eyes and looked up at Barty.

“Thank you,” He told them both before he dropped Sirius and went to run his fingers over the spines of his books. 

You did good, B.” Evan purred in his ear, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. “How am I going to reward you tonight?” He whispered in Barty’s ear. 

“Oh, I can think of a few things,” He chucked. Evan nipped his earlobe. Clearly, this was punishment for his earlier antics. It would be hours before they could get away. Barty would just have to wait.  

Next part

[theelizamanelli]

Tengoku

Reina Iyashi wants a normal, mundane existence until Satoru Gojo takes a special interest in her uncanny ability to bring people back to life (or so Itadori says) and offers her a job as his assistant at Jujutsu High. Tags: 18+, satoru gojo x female oc, boss x assistant, golden retriever x black cat, forced proximity, slow burn, romance, smut, emotional content, mention of death link to all chapters link to ao3

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Note to reader: an emotional chapter, took a little longer than usual - enjoy!

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Chapter Thirteen

Satoru Gojo

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Leaning back in his chair, Satoru stared out the window admiring the cherry blossoms swirling in the wind. His thoughts naturally drifted to images of Iyashi clutching onto the brick wall, trembling. Her eyes soft with lust as she stared into his. 

He had to admit that he had been…intense. 

It wasn’t his original intention in taking her out there. The first years had proven their ability over the last few months but he naturally worried about their skill in the field. 

He had genuinely wanted to ensure their safety.

What he hadn’t factored into the equation was the possibility that Iyashi would come to his swift defense and mumble sweet compliments into his ear. 

The true nail in the coffin had been her submission, her desire to do whatever he asked once he had shoved her up against that wall. 

He groaned at the reminder, stretching his neck in a circular motion before standing.

He ventured across the campus, enjoying the warmth. The spring air tumbled through the trees, shaking the flowers.

Satoru hoped that he hadn’t scared her off with his vigor. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if she wouldn’t let him touch her again. 

The thought depressed him. 

“Iyashi, I’m here to save you!” shouted Satoru as he opened the door. She sat in her office chair, typing diligently at her computer. 

“From what?” Iyashi inquired, not looking up from the screen.

“Boredom.” he replied, walking over to the desk. He perched on the edge, appreciating the fullness of her lips and the deep brown of her eyes.

“You know, I do have a job to do,” she fixed him with a glare. “One that you pay me for, just as a reminder.”

“And you’re very good at it,” he complimented. 

Satoru burned to touch Iyashi again, he wanted nothing more than to take her over this office desk. If she thought that play in the alley was good, what he had in store for her was going to prove overwhelming.

“No to whatever you’re thinking,” Iyashi said flatly.

“You don’t even know what it was!” Satoru whined.

——————————————————————————————————

“Another assignment?” Iyashi asked, peeking over his shoulder to read the letter.

“Yes, another one,” he replied with a sigh. He stood up from his desk, the first years were outside practicing hand to hand combat with the second years in preparation for the exchange event. The low grunts and frustrated shouts carried on the wind to the classroom.

“Well, we should get going then,” Iyashi stepped towards the door before turning towards him. “Are you coming?”

Satoru grinned before following, he had been reassured by her behavior that he hadn’t ruined their progress. He treated Iyashi as a fickle stray cat, he wouldn’t pick her up and force affection. If he gave her time she would eventually feed out of his hand and follow him home. 

Despite how enticing the idea of coating his fingers in her was.

The two opted for driving due to the weather, the rain had begun to pound the concrete. The town car pulled up to the location, parking in the allotted space.

Renchoku Girls’ Junior High

Satoru faltered, his fingers wrapped tightly around the door handle. 

“Gojo?” Iyashi asked softly, her gaze flickering to his hand. “Gojo?” she reached out and pressed her fingers over his - pulling the handle and pushing forward.

He turned his face towards her, a weak smile spreading as he responded, “Yes, Iyashi?” 

She scanned his features, her brows furrowing, “Are you okay?”

He wrapped his fingers over hers, her body leaned across his to get to the door. He could feel her breath on his jawline. He inhaled slightly, her citrus scent crowding his senses. 

He leaned towards her, squeezing her hand, “Just wanted to feel my fingers again, Iyashi?” 

Pink spread through her cheeks as she yanked out of his grasp, smacking his chest. He chuckled as he exited the car, Iyashi a few steps behind.

His smile slowly dissolved as they neared the entrance of the middle school. Memories of a long black braid swaying angrily flashed in the back of his mind. 

The school had been cleared for a trip to Kyoto so it sat empty, he slowly scanned the area.

“Emerge from darkness, blacker still. Purify that which is impure.” he stated with his hand in the air, black oozed down from the sky in the shape of a dome.

“What is that?” asked Iyashi, taking a step closer to him.

“A veil,” Satoru responded as he entered the main floor. “It serves as a curtain so that the non-Jujutsu sorcerers can’t see.”

“Why haven’t you used it before?” she mused, her head darting around to analyze her surroundings. 

“There wasn’t a reason before,” he shrugged. “The curses were so isolated that we didn’t run a huge risk. Plus, they were all kinda weak.”

“So, is this one not?” Iyashi sped up to match his strides down the corridor. 

“This one…is a little stronger,” he responded. He turned to her with a smirk, “Not stronger than me, though. I’ll protect you.”

Iyashi scoffed, “I can protect myself.” she increased her speed so that she was in front of him - whipping around, “Go find a helpless maiden if you’re so desperate to play the savior,”

A loud snap ricocheted through the air, a crack splintering across the concrete. Iyashi looked down at where it had ended - in between her legs.

A rumble shook the building, Iyashi took a tentative step backwards as the fractured concrete opened below her. A large figure exploded through the ground - shards scattering through the hall. 

Iyashi had jumped at the last second, landing behind the creature. She peeked around its form to meet his gaze.

Satoru grinned, sliding his hands into his pockets, “You were saying?”

“Shut up!” she shouted. 

Iyashi began to run up the stairs as the monster burst through the ceiling into the levels above. It resembled a large goldfish but with multiple rows of sharp teeth. 

Satoru watched as her figure disappeared around the railing, he slowly ascended through the hole left behind by the creature.

The rain dripped from his limitless effect as he landed on the roof - the creature slithering through the air. 

You idiot, I thought I told you not to show up!

Satoru sucked in a breath, turning in the direction of the voice. 

Iyashi was soaked, “You idiot, I thought you had him!” she pointed into the sky. 

He shook his head slightly before turning his gaze upwards.

——————————————————————————————————

“Where’s Iyashi-senpai?” Yuji leaned over his desk, staring at Satoru. 

“How do you know she’s not here somewhere?” he asked, his eyes trained on the letters in front of him.

“Because we haven’t heard her yelling at you,” replied Nobara, concentrating intently on balancing a pencil on her finger. 

“She’s sick, resting at home,” he replied. They had exorcized the curse at the Girl’s School and the prolonged time spent in the wet had gifted Iyashi a cold. 

He sighed, his thoughts had turned to memories of the chapel and the beach in Okinawa. His brows furrowed, his eyes closing slightly behind the blindfold. 

He clapped his hands together and stood, “Class! Let’s go cheer up Iyashi!” 

They entered the apartment, hands full of bags that contained sports drinks and various cold medicines. Satoru turned to the three and held a finger to his lips - willing them to stay quiet. 

The living area was dark, a small mound of blankets sticking out of the far corner of the couch. The television blared a daytime soap opera, the light from the screen illuminating the tissue box and trash can sitting parallel.

“Iyashi?” Satoru sang softly, placing his hand on the part of the blankets closest to him. 

The mound moved slightly, a flash of red before her face came into view. Her eyes had a tinge of blood spreading from the corners, a stain of pink on her nose, and her lips were splotched as if she had been biting them.

“What?” she growled, piercing him with an annoyed glare.

“We brought you stuff to cheer you up!” shouted Yuji, lifting his bag in the air.

“Blue gatorade!” yelled Nobara. “The best flavor!”

“No, the best flavor is the red one,” refuted Yuji.

Iyashi sighed and leaned back into the arm of the couch, Satoru sat on the cushion nearest her outstretched feet. 

Megumi walked forward, handing her the drink and medicine. Iyashi paused, her face softening. She took the items and thanked him - she moved to sit upright, gesturing for him to have a seat in between her and Satoru.

He scoffed as Megumi sat next to him, staring ahead at the soap opera. 

They all visited with Iyashi until it was evident that she needed rest, Satoru ushered them all out the door before heading back towards the couch.

Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling slowly. He smiled, pulling the blanket to cover her. He turned to walk towards the kitchen, Iyashi gripped his shirt tightly - fixing him in place.

This felt oddly familiar, in an emotionally vulnerable state Satoru had done the same to Iyashi. 

He slowly turned her way, she gazed up at him, “Stay,” she mumbled.

Iyashi averted her eyes before whispering, “I’m cold.”

Satoru’s heart throbbed, “Of course.”

He took his blindfold off and set it on the table, emptying his pockets before gesturing for her to sit up. Iyashi leaned forward and Satoru slid in behind her - she hesitated.

“Lean back, Iyashi,” he insisted, lightly rubbing her shoulders.

With a sigh she softly fell into his chest, he wrapped his arms around her torso. 

“Why were you so sad yesterday at that Girl’s School?” she said, her cheek resting against him. 

Satoru paused, considering his words before responding, “It reminded me of my old friends.”

“What happened to them?” Iyashi asked, her finger lightly tracing his forearm.

“They died,” he replied. 

“Oh,” Iyashi leaned forward to turn to face him. “I’m sorry. You really miss them, huh?”

Satoru scanned her eyes, not a single ounce of pity but rather a quiet understanding. She gave him a soft comforting smile before resting her head back on his chest. 

He sighed, “Yeah, I really miss them.”

Soft snores floated from Iyashi as she nuzzled into him, Satoru squeezed her tightly. 

——————————————————————————————————

The sun ushered the clouds in the sky out of the way as the afternoon arrived. The students were running laps on the track as Satoru sat on the steps, watching.

Iyashi took the seat beside him, leaning forward to rest her chest on her thighs - she turned her head towards Satoru.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she turned her attention back towards the field. The high pitched shouting of Maki sliced through the air as Megumi made a mistake - stumbling. 

“Anytime you want me to touch you, Iyashi, just let me know.” he replied, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“Your friends, I bet they would be really proud of you,” Iyashi kept her gaze on the students.

“I don’t know about that,” he let out a breathy laugh.

Iyashi sat quietly as Satoru recounted his mission with Riko, he paused. “So, really, I let her down.”

“I think the only way you would let her down is by allowing her death to keep you from living.” Iyashi sat up slightly, crossing her arms over her stomach. 

Satoru stared down at the track as she continued, “And Geto? Do you think you let him down?”

“I spent a lot of time alone as a kid,” Satoru leaned back, resting his arms on the steps behind him. “There weren’t a lot of people that wanted to get to know me, mostly because they were scared.”

“Geto was my first real friend. He called me on my bullshit when I needed it but also,” he paused, reflecting. “In his own way, I think he really cared about me.”

Iyashi mimicked his stance, her head falling back to look at the sky.

“What happened to him?” she asked.

“I didn’t recognize the signs and he slowly burned out.” he replied softly. “Before I knew it he had become the villain.”

Satoru sighed, “And isn’t the villain always disappointed by the hero?” 

“The hero gives the villain purpose. Without you, he was nothing - whether what he did was right or not,” Iyashi stated. “So I don’t think you let him down - I think he let himself down.”

“I would say that your friends, as you remember them, would only want Satoru Gojo to be happy. To live his life without carrying their burdens,” Iyashi angled forward, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “Are you happy, Gojo?”

Satoru leaned his head back, finding himself thankful for the cover of the blindfold.

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chapter fourteen

if you want to be notified when a new chapter is posted

[cher-rei]

love song ♬— chapter 4 [ J.M ]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!oc

summary [please read]

genre(s): strangers to lovers, fluff, angst and football romance [love song playlist]

[w.c: 4.3k] masterlist

notes: this is the one!! ya'll thought I was joking about the 5k word count 😔

previous chapter | next chapter

the three friends stepped off the train in herzogenaurach, the city bustling with excitement and laughter. with their luggage in hand, they caught their uber and successfully made it to their b&b that they rented our for the remainder of the tournament.

obviously because it was where the team's training camp was located, and it would mean less hassle and back and forth travel from munich.

the uber turned into a quaint street lined with traditional bavarian townhouses, each boasting colourful flower boxes and rustic facades. a wooden sign creeked in the gentle breeze, bearing the b&b’s name in gold, bold letters.

“welcome ladies.” the sight of a middle aged man greeted them at the front door, his smile inviting as he held the villa's key in his hands. “she's yours for the next few weeks. don't be scared to call me if anything is needed.”

with a grateful smile, aaliyah let the keys fall into her palms and waved off the property owner while sophia and noelle got the rest of their luggage.

as they entered the, the cozy living room enveloped them in warmth. plush sofa's, rustic wooden furniture, and rich, dark wood floors created an inviting atmosphere. vintage memorabilia adorned the walls, alongside german team jerseys and photographs.

they led to each of their bedrooms— sophia's boasted vibrant red and black bedding and a more rustic look while aaliyah's room featured sleek, modern decor. noelle's room was cozy, with a comfortable reading nook.

the kitchen beckoned, filled with with aroma of freshly brewed coffee which was more than enough to make noelle's senses perk up.

“you know,” she turned to look at her friend's with an innocent smile. “I think we should have some coffee, to match the atmosphere and stuff.”

before she could successfully open one of the cabinets, aaliyah interjected and pulled her to the side and gestured to the fridge. “we have orange juice, don't talk crap.”

noelle's shoulders dropped in disappointment. “but it's not the same,” she whined but her friends weren't giving into her plea.

“yeah, it won't lead to kidney failure,” sophia said with a smile and passed her the glass of orange juice, the look of distaste on noelle’s face comical. “drink it so we can unpack.”

the following two days spent in the city went about quickly, with lots of time out to explore and just enjoy their time together. noelle even got some time to start on her thesis, or at least figure out where she was intending to go with it. on different occasions she would call sophia and aaliyah aside separately for some questioning, trying to get as raw of a response that she could.

sophia's interview [log 1]

n: how do you handle the pressure of being in the public eye?

s: honestly, it's tough. but kai keeps me grounded, funny enough. he's really supportive and puts my comfortability first, which I really appreciate.

n: how do you maintain intimacy and the relationship's strength with different schedules?

s: (laughs) we make time, even if it's just a video call like we've been doing recently. trust is key.

n: okay, yoda. what's the most challenging part of dating a high profile athlete?

s: balancing my own identify with being “kai havetz's girlfriend”. well, fiance now. but he's sweet, and encourages me to pursue my passions, even if it isn't the most ideal. we work around it.

n: aw, that's so sweet... move back to munich for me.

s: (laughs) no. nice try though, maybe it'll actually work next time.

n: shut up.

aaliyah's interview [log 2]

n: uhh, let's see. ah, how do you cope with flo's intense training regiments?

a: communication is key, sweetheart. we prioritise our time together and as long as there is understanding and trust, we’re good.

n: ew, sophia said the same thing.

a: because it's true you idiot. you're just a baby, you'll understand one day.

n: what's the most surprising aspect of dating a professional athlete?

a: the emotional highs and lows. you're going to experience that first hand this time around since you're with us. their passion for football is infectious but losses can be tough, which means that they rely on us for emotional support and reassurance. it's a lot of responsibility but it's worth it.

n: that's a lot of words. I think I deserve some coffee.

a: you wanted raw and honest? I gave you raw and honest. but touch that espresso machine and i will light it on fire in front of you.

n: ughhhhhh!

she slept, ate and drank thesis for the next few days. and that even meant when they went out. it was a day before germany and hungary's match in stuttgart that sophia proposed that they took a trip to the training camp. were they allowed to? not in the slightest.

there was a strict no family policy implemented to keep the teams’ players focused and isolated. which noelle found sort of dumb.

the three friends entered the camp with sophia leading the way as if she owned the place, greeting the staff members that passed by and whatnot, while aaliyah and noelle walked behind with their arms linked.

“this feels illegal,” noelle said, her eyes scanning the sleek and modern interior of the building before they headed onto the training pitch.

aaliyah smiled. “that's because it is.”

noelle couldn't help but shake her head, a quizzical look on her face as she looked up at aaliyah with so many questions plauging her mind. “how do you not have a criminal record yet?”

from in front of them sophia threw her head back in laughter, taking a step back go high five noelle with a satisfied smile. aaliyah didn't see the comment as an insult however and shrugged her shoulders. “I have connections and a very pretty face.”

the path that led them to the training pitch was unnecessarily lengthy, the accommodation in general was absolutely huge. the building felt like it was swallowing noelle whole.

the football pitch was located on the further side of a smaller pitch with fake grass, a running track circling the field with the bleachers on the far right just opposite the building.

the three girls happily took their seats on the last level of the bleachers, nothing but a barricade separating them and the footballers going through their drills. turns out that aaliyah did have connections, meaning that even though family weren't allowed to visit unless given the permission at allocated times, the girls were.

it didn't take much for kai and florian to spot their girlfriend's, and by the looks in their eyes they were ready to drop everything and make a run for it. jamal on the other hand tripped over his own feet at the sight of noelle but he managed to catch himself without making it too obvious.

“are you okay?” toni asked the younger boy, who sheepishly waved his captain off and cleared his throat from the minor embarrassment.

for the rest of the first session, jamal couldn't help but turn to the bleachers every so often, his gaze unintentionally landing on noelle who was sat with her ipad on her lap, scribbling something down. he came to the conclusion that she was working on her thesis, listening intently as her friends spoke.

her laughter sounded through the air at some point, followed by sophia slapping her on the arm and yelling something through her own laughter.

“you look like a lovestruck deer.” the retort came from none other than kai himself, which promoted jamal to take a step back and hit him with the most judgement look he could muster.

“are you telling me that?” he scoffed. “kai ‘my girlfriend breathes and I want to die in her arms’ havertz?”

kai threw his hands up in defence. “wow, thanks for that. remind me to just shut up next time.”

jamal playfully smiled at his sarcastic comment, gratefully taking it. “with pleasure.”

“jamal and kai you're acting like we're not playing an international tournament!” their coach yelled after blowing the whistle to gain their attention, the two footballers immediately halting their argument. “wouldn't you like to hold a trophy this season havertz? might just be the first and last!”

while the players all erupted into a fit of laughter, the three girls on the bleachers were in their own bubble of conversation.

“seriously, how traumatised do you have to be to start yelling, ‘run up, run up. cross the ball, I'm open!’”

noelle and sophia covered their mouths in an attempt to contain their laughter at aaliyah's story. she shook her head and continued complaining, sophia giving her own input in between while noelle took notes on her tablet.

she was silently absorbing all the words exchanged between her friends, perhaps looking up at the pitch to see jamal laughing or jumping in excitement about scoring. unbeknownst to her, there was a faint smile on her lips even if it didn't feel like it.

“are you seriously just going to sit there?” sophia asked with a chuckle, watching as noelle took a sip from her water bottle. yes water.

she closed the plastic bottle with a smile, gesturing for them to continue. “yes, now carry on talking. you're doing great.”

aaliyah's brows furrowed. “I was literally talking about how irritating flo is when he sleeps talks.”

“exactly,” noelle deadpanned and got comfortable in her seat, ready to listen to more complaining but unfortunately the whistle sounded which meant that it was time for a water break.

sophia and aaliyah were out of their seat at lightning speed, practically hopping over the barricade to get onto the pitch where florian and kai were getting water. she shook her head in slight disapproval, a sigh escaping her lips as she focused on the two couples and their interaction.

their dynamics were so different, and it was something that noelle was heavily taking into account for her thesis, and simply out of genuine interest. kai and sophia were softer— their love and affection for each other was so evident that you wouldn't be able to see them without each other, it simply didn't make sense.

and florian and aaliyah were a lot more playful, with aaliyah wearing the pants in the relationship. they shared light banter, silent glances and gentle gestures while also maintaining a strong sense of friendship. it was cute.

noelle didn't even realise that she zoned out until jamal called her name. the footballer walked up to the barricade, “hey stranger.” his arms relaxed on the top with a gentle smile on his face. “what brings you to this side of the world?”

a chuckle left her lips at the playfulness in his voice and she hummed in thought for a moment. “my friends’ borderline obessesion and codependence,” she said half joking and jamal laughed. “and what brings you to this side of the pitch?”

a glint of something flickered in his eyes at the question, something that noelle managed to catch before he answered. “a very pretty psych student.”

now, just because noelle had never been in a relationship before did not mean that she was oblivious. she's had her fair share of encounters to know when someone was flirting with her, it's just that this was the only time where she didn't have the alarm going off in her head telling her to awkwardly laugh and change the subject.

for some reason she was more thrilled and keen on entertaining it, even if it was just a joke (she wasn't sure).

“oh, really?” she questioned with mock intrigue. “where is she?” she straightened her posture and looked around the field to which he laughed.

his laughter sent a warm shiver down her spine, she couldn't help but enjoy his playful demeanour. she watched with her lips pursed as he took his phone out of his pocket and turned the screen in her direction to see the front camera open.

yep. she was on the verge of throwing up and overheating.

“she's right there,” he said with a proud smile and she nodded along with flushed cheeks but she held onto her playful facade.

“oh, wow. and what makes her so special exactly?”

jamal's grin widened. “well she's super smart, has this insane coffee addiction, and she can quote fifa regulations verbatim.”

noelle chuckled at his answer, almost losing herself at the last point. he wasn't even trying but she was quite aware that what she felt in that moment was the equivalent of downing four shots of espresso. “that's quite the combination. was that combo the reason you tripped earlier on?”

jamal's laughter echoed through the air, his eyes crinkling at the corners while slight embarrassment welled up inside him. “maybe it was the combination, maybe it was something else entirely.”

she stifled a laugh and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears that were on fire. “well whatever reason, I'm glad that you're okay.” her tone was gentle and genuine, enough for him to lean in a little closer, his fingers absentmindedly tapping along the barricade.

“I think that it was fate’s way of getting my attention,” he prompted and noelle's lips parted, her eyes playfully rolling. “and now that I have it, I think I should conduct a study of my own.”

he was freakishly good at this. every word that left his mouth made her question herself. “oh, really? I'm listening.”

he looked up at the sky for a moment. “the psychology of the perfect distraction.”

her cheeks burned, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his. not when this was a thrill that she wasn't about to give up. “and how do you want to go about that? any references in mind?”

he nodded eagerly, proud smile on his face to know that he wasn't shooting himself in the foot with whatever the hell he was doing right now. it wasn't even planned. he just wanted to say hi. not profess his undying love!

“there's this coffee-addicted, fifa-regulation-quoting-genuis that is exactly what I'm looking for.”

“and what makes you think this genuis would be interested in your research?”

for the first time in however long this conversation was going on for, jamal felt his smile falter before he managed to recover it. “well, I'm willing to take the risk. and besides,” he shrugged. “I think she's already interested.”

naturally she asked what made him think that. because she wanted to know what her behaviour looked like from his perspective, granted that he was talking about her right now. if not, then she was screwed and was about to live with a life time of embarrassment and another reason to not leave her house.

a sigh left jamal's lips, one that seemed more dazed than exhausted. “the way that she smiles when I talk about fifa regulations.”

she couldn't hold it in anymore, her laughter practically burst from her chest in relief to the point where she was doubled over and clutching her stomach. she tried to calm herself down but whenever she took a breath to look at jamal she found herself laughing again, leaving him there to hold back his own to admire her.

she sit up and fanned her already burning face, taking a moment to wipe the tears that managed to escape. “I think you're already an expert in distraction.”

he raised his hands in defence. “guilty as charged.”

unfortunately their banter was disturbed. “musiala, water break is over!”

with a sigh he turned to noelle and shot her one last smile. “duty calls, but I'll see you tomorrow?”

she nodded slowly, but bit her tongue for a moment, rethinking her original answer. “I think I can arrange that research meeting by the way, at a price of course.”

his intrigue that died down seconds ago was back and jamal found himself looking at her like a lost puppy. “oh?”

her lips parted to say something but was drowned out by someone calling his name again which he dismissed immediately. “leroy, can you shut up for a minute please! I'm right here!” he turned back to noelle. “I'm listening.”

“I need a goal from you tomorrow, just for fun,” she stated with a shrug and he hummed in response, more than happy with the request.

“deal,” he said almost instantly but noelle felt like carrying on her teasing, eager to test his limits.

she held out her hand, watching as his confused gaze travelled to it. nonetheless, he leant his arm over the barricade, enough that she was able to get hold of his hand to which she gently held his wrist and lightly tapped the inside of it thrice.

“what?” he looked up at her.

“I just cursed you,” she said through a smile, his expression dropping instantly. when she was done with her joke she went on to explain to him that it was a simple gesture to lock a promise.

it was something stupid she made up a when she was younger, and often did with carmen before she became the epitome of her worst nightmare.

as he jogged back onto the field, the post convention clarity hit noelle like a truck. immediate regret bubbled in her stomach but she couldn't even dwell ob her stupidy long enough before sophia and aaliyah were at her sides, nagging on her head about the encounter.

they weren't satisfied with a simple, “we just talked.”

aaliyah shook her head, calling out her bluff and blatant lie. “you didn't see what we saw! you were smiling like crazy, shut up, noelle you even giggled!”

“ew, as if!”

when they got back home, noelle was the first to head to her room saying that she was exhausted. and naturally the girls decided to not press the situation and let her be, making sure to call her down for supper and then she was back in her room.

noelle sank into the bed, surrounded be the quaint floral patterns and photographs in the room. the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast eerie shadows on the walls, mirroring her inner turmoil.

as she lay there, the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant hum of crickets and the occasional creek of the old wooden floorboards. sophia and aaliyah's excited whispers still lingered in her mind, but now they were replaced by her own taunting doubts.

her thoughts swirled like a maelstrom, threatening to pull her under. she knew herself, she knew her fears like the back of her hand. she knew all too well that intimacy was something that she preferred to steer clear from, there was nothing worth being vulnerable and losing someone. she's seen it first hand with her parents.

noelle was young but she wasn't stupid, and seeing her father leave the house in the middle of the night only to return hours later without explanation was enough of a tell tale. she was 8 when she picked up her father's phone for the first time, the distant rising annoying her as she proceeded to colour in, in the living room.

it was silent, she didn't want to say anything yet because she wasn't sure who was calling. until the unfamiliar female voice echoed through the speaker. “adrian, sweetheart are you there?”

from that day onward, noelle was unable to look at her father the same. she had to witness her mother suffer through the deceit and self doubt, the crying and the anger filled words. she was there.

the darkness outside seemed to seep into her room, shrouding her in an unsettling uncertainty. noelle's heart raced, her palms growing slick with sweat.

intimacy terrified her. the thought of vulnerability, of exposing herself, made her want to retreat into the comfort of her solitude.

but jamal's playful words lingered, and his smile was etched into her mind. he didn't what he was getting himself into, and that guilt settled into her stomach. he was trying, he was genuine and she was a coward.

noelle's eyelids grew heavy, but her mind refused to quiet. fear and self doubt wrestled with the fragile spark of hope.

they weren't doing much the following day besides getting on the train to stuttgart early that morning for the match. it gave noelle time to sleep seeing as she was up the entire night. sophia and aaliyah carried on as per normal, aaliyah holding on extra tight to noelle at her side.

as the train rumbled towards frankfurt, noelle's exhaustion weighed her down like an anchor. her eyes felt gritty, her mind foggy from the sleepless night.

when she woke up, aaliyah noticed her friend's subdued demeanour and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “hey, you okay?”

noelle forced a smile. “yeah, just tired.” but aaliyah's knowing glance suggested that she could see past her facade.

the train’s din and the girls chatter receded into the background as noelle leant her head on the window, her gaze drifting through the german countryside that was being overshadowed by darker clouds.

every so often her heart would skip a beat at the thought of the footballer. she just couldn't shake off the feeling that she was sabotaging something before it even began. but this isn't what she needed at the moment, instead she needed to shake off all that negativity and enjoy the evening.

when the train stopped she took one last final breath and prepared herself for whatever the evening threw at her, because at least she wasn't alone.

to no ones surprise, aaliyah sensed her tension and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “babe, relax. it's just a match,” she whispered as they took their seats, the roar of the crowd drowning out her thoughts.

but it was more than just a match. for noelle, this was a direct confrontation with her own fears, her own doubts. and he was standing there on the pitch underneath the stadium lights, taking his teammates hands before getting into position.

noelle's gaze involuntarily drifted drifted to jamal, his confident stride and assured smile making her heart stutter. the flutter in her chest was undeniable, and she hated herself for it.

aaliyah's grip on her shoulder tightened, a gentle reminder that she was going to be okay. sophia, oblivious to the inner turmoil, chattered and took pictures of the stadium.

as the game commenced, her attention wavered between the action in the pitch and jamal's dynamic movements. every time he touched the ball, her pace quickened. his sudden sprint down the wing, ball at his feet brought noelle back to reality.

her brows furrowed as she scowered the pitch. “the weather is actually clearing up,” she got hums of confirmation at the question and cuddled futher into aaliyah's side, the crisp air hitting noelle's bare face, the sun starting to peak through the canopy of clouds.

nothing much had happened, but the stadium's atmosphere was intense yet inviting. the supporters were singing and cheering, their attitude and excitement giving the players the much needed energy.

as the 22nd minute ticked by, jamal's sudden sprint down the wing brought noelle to the edge of her seat. she wondered if he remember what they talked about the day before— if it was even the slightest bit significant to him.

her brows furrowed, her eyes scoured the pitch as the supporters waited in anticipation. then in a flash of brilliance, he struck the ball— and it curled into the top corner of the net, a work of art.

noelle's world exploded in a riot of colour and sound, her friends’ screams of excitement deafening her more than the others. naturally, she leapt to her feet her voice lost in the cacophony of cheers.

aaliyah's arms enveloped her, holding her steady as the stadium swirled around them. for a fleeting moment, jamal's gaze locked onto hers, a spark that left her breathless. he remembered.

“noelle, did you see that?” sophia screamed, her voice piercing but noelle’s attention remained on jamal, his triumphant smile illuminating the pitch.

and then in a subtle gesture, he tapped his wrist thrice, eyes locking onto hers. noelle's breath caught. it was a joke, asking him to score was a joke. but the fact that he remembered was what had her breathless.

when the game was over, the final whistle blew at 2-0 to germany. a successful win that blurred noelle's doubts and turmoil for a moment, a reminder to focus on the little things and let go for a bit.

they found themselves on the pitch again under the summer heat, congratulating the team and taking the necessary pictures. it was good until jamal came up to her, his hand out for a fist bump that she was more than happy to accept as a token of gratitude.

their “research task” was brought up obviously, and it was going to take place at the cinema, seeing as spiderman: across the spiderman released a week ago back at the cinema in herzogenaurach.

but before they could exchange another word, aaliyah burst in. "spiderman across the spiderverse? that's a great idea, jamal!"

sophia chimed in, “that sounds like a fun group outing.”

jamal's gaze drifted from noelle to the growing group, his smile forced. noelle's heart sank, sensing jamal's dismay. was he that keen on having a few with her alone? the joke was implied, but once again she was left confused.

aaliyah, oblivious to the tension, continued planning. she had already talked to florian about booking the vip cinema, naturally to avoid interruption from the public and media.

jamal's eyes met noelle's, searching for clarification. her apologetic shrug barely eased his slight disappointment and waned excitement, leaving him wondering if he'd misread the signals. the spiderman marathon, once a covert date, now felt like a group outing.

“this research task just got a lot more…” he sighed, his attention on his friends who were excitedly planning the outing, noelle laughing along with them. “...inclusive.”

“all I remember is the handshake,” florian said with his brows furrowed, and noelle immediately burst into laughter at his mistake at referencing the wrong movie.

he looked at her with a look of disgust and aaliyah gently pat his back. “wrong movie, babe.”

[karlachismylife]

I Need My Love To Be Here

Once again I couldn't help but do the second-most voted choice too. Why am I making my own life so much harder?

CW: fem!reader, reader and Price are married and have a daughter, long-distance relationship, my music taste projected once again, the tiniest bit of suggestive teasing, toothrotting fluff.

(Title from The Beatles' "Here, There and Everywhere")

Dealing with an energized six-year old refusing to go to bed was a battle alright, especially when your trusted partner with his commanding presence and a true Captain's voice wasn't there to help. You couldn't blame your little one for behaving herself better when John was around: isn't a natural law that the one parent that's often away and always comes back with gifts is the favourite one? It's not daddy who's forcing you to eat healthy food every day and go to sleep when you want another batch of cartoons.

It's the strict, stern-looking mum with her hands on her hips as she scolds you gently for throwing a fit over putting your toys back like promised.

Still, you'd want a little more appreciation and cooperation from Princess Price, sulking in her frog pjs - everything was frog since recently, you even got daddy a froggy hat for when he comes back from deployment.

He was away for a long time. Not somewhere dangerous, he told you as he called and texted regilarly, but he was constantly held back by one or the other thing that just couldn't be resolved without Captain's expertise.

That's what made his new phone call just the sweeter, since the first words you heard after closing priness's door hastly and moving to the living room, were:

"Guess who's coming home tomorrow, darling."

A relieved, longing sigh escaped you as you leaned onto the couch and stared at the ceiling with a dreamy smile.

"Good. Someone here needs a reminder how to listen to what she's being told."

"Is princess being a bad girl?" John's hearty chuckle warmed you even through the phone. You bit your lip, trying to save your own face from splitting in two with the horribly wide smile - same was gracing Price's face for sure, you could hear it, his plump cheeks all big and round, almost hiding his happily narrowed eyes.

"Not necessarily bad. But we have attitide and no respect for mummy's authority. Maybe I should start calling myself Captain too, just for her to listen to me."

"I'm afraid, impersonating an officer is illegal, love," he huffed and chuckled again, gruff, big, bear-hugging sound. A pause. "Are you being a bad girl?"

You pressed your phone closer you your ear as a warm tingling flooded your cheeks and held your breath.

"I'd like to report I'm being perfectly good, sir," if only you could see the way his kind eyes twinkled in the dim lighting of wherever he was, sitting on a chair with knees wide apart, one hand holding the famous cigar.

"That's good to hear. I have a little something for you. A reward for being so good for me and waiting while I'm in this shithole."

"The only reward I need is you back home, John," you weren't even being coy, just honest. It was so long since you last felt his rough palms slide over your sides and lock together as he pulled you into a tight hug from behind, pressing ticklish kisses into your nape.

"I know, sweetpea. Consider this an apology gift then, for taking so long," he didn't let you argue a single word, clearly set on having you accept whatever he prepared, as if him being alive, well and home wasn't enough. "Got us tickets to that McCartney concert, love. For all three of us. Gotta start teaching our princess what good music is."

You gasped, jumping in your seat - your heart did a little flip, cheeks burning now, butterflies that never went away even after years of marriage flocking to your lungs.

"But it's so close, how did you even- oh, I just wanna kiss all hells out of you, John!" His laughter dripped through the phone like spicy honey, sweetening already increbibly sweet deal.

"Oh, I can tell, love. Hope you feel the same way tomorrow."

"Why is tomorrow so far away?" You allowed yourself to be just as sulky and pouty as your little one snoring softly in the other room. Of course you could wait another day, you've waited for months already. But now every minute felt like a whole month itself.

"That's so you can get enough sleep before I make you forget about it for several nights."

[zutaranation]

Secretly, Zuko prefers the tea Katara makes him over Iroh's.

Another late night where Zuko needed to fetch a second oil lamp. He'd burned through the first one and his eyes were aching through to the back of his head from staring at parchment so long. Katara swore that he'd inflicted the need for glasses upon himself, but he saw it as nothing he could help. These documents needed to be finished before the Earth King arrived tomorrow morning. As did all the others that came before.

"You're going to fall asleep at the meeting, Zuko," Katara said as she opened the door to her husband's study, balancing a tray in her hands.

Zuko perched his head, a soft smile overtaking his face as he met his wife's gaze. "Oh, I won't. Kuei's far too loud for that," teased Zuko. "Plus, you will too. What are you doing still awake? I thought you got everything ready you wanted to present to Kuei tomorrow already."

"I did," replied Katara, walking over to Zuko's desk and setting down the little tray with a slight clatter. Katara then walked behind Zuko and placed her hands on his shoulders. She gently began massaging where she knew the knots usually were as Zuko sighed, setting down his quill pen. Worked every time.

"Hm, that's good you're finished," Zuko said, relaxing under Katara's ministrations as her thumbs worked into the muscles in his shoulder blades. He lost track of his train of thought for a moment, falling weary under Katara's touch.

"You must have a good outline by now, Zuko," Katara said in a gentle, singsongy voice. She wanted to coax him to bed. She knew he'd be better at the meeting if he was well-rested.

"I'm almost done," he insisted as he let out a deep sigh. "And, no fair, you were up all night before meeting with Pakku's officials last week. You wouldn't listen to me trying to make you go to bed on time for three nights straight."

"That's different, my love. You know I do better at nighttime than you," Katara quipped, leaning down to press a kiss to Zuko's scarred cheek. Though, it was true. She was being hypocritical. Zuko was down in her study less than a week ago, pleading with her to come to bed with promises of ice cream and wine as she insisted on each finishing touch of her proposals.

Zuko moved his hand to caress Katara's cheek as he chuckled. "Of course," he retorted, bantering with his old friend as his attention turned to the tray on his desk. It was a pot of tea with his favorite cup and a little plate of cookies.

"It's jasmine green with peach — your favorite," Katara said, reaching around Zuko's neck to embrace him from behind.

"Thank you, my love," Zuko answered, nuzzling his face against her cheek as she hugged him.

Zuko then pulled the tray over and poured himself a cup of tea. It even smelled delectable. "Did you want some, Katara?"

"I won't say no," she replied, then moving to grab one of Zuko's spare stools and pull it beside his seat.

Zuko then poured them each a cup of the comforting, though awakening, blend. There was nothing like a specially-brewed cup of tea by someone you loved. As Zuko grew older, he found himself more appreciative of teas. The warm cups brought comfort and also could help with staying alert in times such as these.

"Cheers," said Katara teasingly before blowing on her hot cup and taking a bite of a biscuit.

Zuko then took a sip of the tea and sighed. "It's perfect," he told her. "You know, you have to promise me you'll take this to your grave, Katara."

She looked up, a bit concerned. "Of course, Zuko. You know I'd never tell anyone anything. You can always trust me," she assured him, placing her hand atop his over the desk.

Zuko chuckled, shaking his head, "No, don't worry," he said, turning his hand to hold hers affectionately. "It's just… Your tea blend is my favorite. I think I like it even more than Uncle's."

"Zuko!" Katara said scoldingly in shock, though through a laugh. "Your uncle's tea is the best in all the Four Nations!"

"I know, I know… but… I just really love the one you make me. I don't know," he confessed, putting his hands up in playful surrender.

"That is definitely something I will be taking to my grave," Katara assured, "Though, I can't say I don't enjoy the ego boost."

Zuko took another sip, smiling behind the rim of his cup. "I wouldn't lie to you."

"Hm, maybe you should've told me that before you promised you'd be in bed two hours ago," Katara retorted.

"Thirty more minutes?" he said, "Just to use the caffeine boost from the tea?"

"Alright, Zuko, thirty more minutes."

[latibvles]

100 paired prompts list -⁴²⁾ a blocked (or unknown) number and traffic lights, for Vivian!

DIDN'T HAVE TO.

more frat boys au because im stuck in this trench. thanks for the prompt, merc!! another general "viv's dad sucks in every way a dad Can Suck" warning.

James whistles from his spot up front, peering out the window onto the street as Viv approaches, shrugging on her jacket and looking at him curiously.

“News says it’s below freezing tonight. You walkin’ home, Vivvy?” he asks, looking at her curiously. She knows it's both a question and a well-meaning proposition — which is enough to make her smile a little bit, but shake her head.

“My ride’s waiting for me. I appreciate it though,” she hums. “Oh! And I won’t be coming in tomorrow. Sorority stuff,” the host nods, looking half-mournful as he leans on the wood podium. Viv chuckles a little, rolling her eyes in slight amusement as he straightens out, looking past her once more towards the downtown street, lit up by window signs and orangey street lamps.

“Right, see you…”

“Monday.”

“Monday, right.” Vivian zips up her jacket, heading out the door and looking down at her phone. Bucky’s text is simple: ‘on the corner’ following up their previous conversation: which was Viv going ‘I don’t mind walking’ and Bucky reacting with a thumbs down emoji. She recognizes his car further down the street and speed-walks towards it, already eager to get away from the chill of late autumn. She chuckles when she approaches, peering into the window. Bucky is leaning back in his seat, eyes shut, arms crossed over his chest.

She raps her knuckles on the glass and he shoots up, looking around before his gaze settles on her, effectively startled, and Viv laughs.

In spite of his initial fright, he smiles when he sees her and she hears the faint click of the doors unlocking. She opens the door pretty quickly after that, tossing her bag into the backseat.

“Knight in shining armor,” she teases, as opposed to a proper greeting, before following it up with: “Sorry if I smell like a deep fryer.” He waves it off dismissively.

“No problem. I love french fries.” Viv swats him in the center of his chest for that, which makes him laugh with an additional mutter of seat belt as she settles into her spot. The engine of his car revs to life, phone connecting to the speakers and Bucky’s all-over-the-place playlist hopping to the next track. He pulls off the curb as Viv pulls her hair out of its low barely-there pony and sighs in relief, scratching at her head.

“You were right by the way.” He glances at her momentarily and she’s looking at him dead-on. “Saw that woman in my calculus class with your economics professor — I avoided their table like the plague.” Bucky makes a noise, something between a squawk and a gasp that has Viv throwing her head back in a fit of laughter. “The fuck was that?!”

“Sorry— sorry I just— that was supposed to be a joke,” Bucky laughs a little, breathless and shoulders shaking. “Holy shit, what’d they order?” She can’t help but grin, knowing he’s going to hate the answer.

“Big plate of spaghetti. Think they were trying to do Lady and the Tramp.”

“Gross.” Viv can’t help her second bout of laughter at the scrunch to Bucky’s nose, displeasure evident on his face. Fair enough; his economics professor is about a half a century older than both of them — but her classmates also had a solid ten years on either of them, so more power to her.

“You think they got together before or after realizing she’s a student at his place of work?” She asks, just to watch him scrunch his nose again.

“Whichever makes it more likely that his desk’s clean because I’ve definitely touched it with my bare hands.”

Viv snorts again, rolling her eyes with a parroted gross that has him grinning from ear to ear, wide and bright as it usually is. She lets her gaze shift outside the window to the darkened downtown streets — some windows slightly frosted, twinkling lights starting to go up. They hadn’t even passed Thanksgiving yet.

“Thanks again, for the ride. You didn’t have—”

“Vivian, if that sentence is anything but ‘you didn’t have money on tonight’s game, did you?’ I’m going to ignore it,” Bucky cuts her off without missing a beat, and for a moment Viv just balks at him. He seems satisfied with himself, though, and she huffs.

“Well did you?”

“Fuck no. Rosie’s already killing me in the goddamn fantasy league. Can you believe that? I’m losing to a damn pledge, Viv.” He’s dramatic about it, bemoaning his fantasy football losses in a way that almost makes her forget that he really didn’t have to come pick her up from work. She was more than willing to tough out the hour-long walk back to the sorority house while her car got fixed, but evidently he had other plans. Ones that involve waiting on the curb for her to clock out after closing and enthrall her with the woes he has about his fantasy league. He swears under his breath as he catches the red light. The one at this intersection always feels like it lasts forever. The vermilion glow casts shadows on his face that Viv can’t really help but stare at. She likes how it makes his curls look impossibly blacker, like ink.

“Are you h—,” her question is cut off by her phone ringing and she looks down.

Viv can’t help the souring of her expression at the unsaved number, but lately he’s been calling so much that she knows who it is automatically. She’s more than grateful that her friends haven’t cast stones over her inability to block his number. She’d be going back for Thanksgiving break and a lot could happen in a week. While she’s willing to fight her father on a lot of things; it isn’t smart to forfeit him from paying her phone bill while she’s in school.

This is the fourth time he’s called her tonight. She couldn’t answer the other three because she was working. And there’s a permanence in blocking him out  entirely that has Viv a little terrified. Nail in the coffin, something like that — she’s put the hammer down for now and she isn’t sure if she’s quite ready to pick it back up again.

“Viv?” Bucky looks over at her fully, brows furrowing in concern, pulling her out of her thoughts. Her thumb hovers over the pick-up button.

“S’just my dad,” she manages. “This should be qui—”

She hardly registers Bucky reaching for her phone, plucking it from her as she opens her mouth in protest. He holds up his finger though as he picks up and presses it to his ear. Viv swallows hard, hands curling into fists. She can’t really hear what her dad is saying, but she can hear the muffled sound of his voice as he yells into the phone.

When I call you, answer. I’ll cut you off. I’ll make you transfer. If you wanna act like a grown little girl so bad—

Bucky’s face contorts into something like disgust. She can tell in that moment he just might spout off at the mouth. Viv reaches over to grasp at his wrist, shooting him a pleading look.

She hasn’t been scared of her father since she was fourteen. She still isn’t, but she doesn’t want Bucky to step in it with him. It’d be like arguing with a brick wall.

Bucky nods once, still saying nothing. Letting her father spout off at the mouth and taking it all without a word. Eventually the muffled shouting stops.

“Yeah, sure thing Mr. Savorre. I just didn’t want to talk on the phone and drive, y’know? Not exactly safe driving habits. They teach that one in high school. You have a good night now,” Bucky drawls, Viv’s eyes feel like they might pop out of her head as he hangs up and the light turns green. He passes her phone back to her and she can hardly believe what’s just happened.

She can’t help the noise — somewhere between a laugh and a scoff of disbelief.

“You…”

He smiles, softer than before, goes to pat her knee twice then squeeze it.

“So what’re your plans for Thanksgiving break?”

[lilgynt]

i don’t have the heart to tell my mom the scooter doesn’t work inside the house bc of the hoarding so i’ve been just limping with my broken foot and hoping for the best

[eupheme]

— come on and show me

[part ii | part iii | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.5k

tags: Logan POV, MMF threesome, jealous!logan, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, voyeurism, dirty talk, open relationship, oral sex, fingering, Logan doms both of them, 69ing, fucklicking, ball worship, come eating, PiV

a/n: I want them to kiss and I also want them to kiss reader to here this is! 💕

Right now, all he can hear is Wade running his goddamn mouth. Drowning out the sounds you make - so fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.

There’s one thing that Logan knows for sure - and it’s that Wade’s not doing it right. Not like he would.

(or - Logan tries to shut Wade up, and it doesn’t quite go as expected)

Logan can hear Wade from here.

Running that goddamn mouth already, and the sun’s only barely up.

Can hear you, too. The little whimpers that you try bite back. He can imagine the way your teeth sink into your lip - the thought has him shifting in his chair, breakfast forgotten.

So fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.

Knows he could make you even louder, too. It’s almost like he’s at the mansion again, looking at another toy he can’t touch.

What a waste.

The sounds crescendo, the chanting of a name layered with that endless babble that makes his teeth grind, before the sound breaks.

Trying not to look interested when the door opens a few minutes later. Snatching up the newspaper that’s been sitting on the cluttered tabletop for a month now, flicking it open.

Ignoring how Wade strolls out, adjusting the waistband on a pair of grey sweats that are hanging way too low on his hips for comfort.

Rummaging around for a bottle of water, the glow of the fridge illuminating the curve of his ass. The cut of the pants look familiar, Logan's eyes narrowing as he wonders if those are his missing pair-

The edge of the paper flicking up again into place again, just as Wade stretches - bending further, before the bottle is snatched from the back.

Logan huffs.

“Hey roomie,” Wade hums, flicking the cap at him. It sails through the air, disappearing into his forgotten cup of coffee with a little 'plunk', “Don’t let me interrupt that killer Ed Tom Bell impression you’ve got going on, just hydrating for round two.”

“Ooh,” A cock of his hip, as he turns - head tilting as he thinks, “Does that make me Josh Brolin? God, I love him.”

“That’s all?” Logan’s eyebrows lift as he sneers - ignoring another reference he doesn’t understand, “Been going at it for a while.”

As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Opening himself up for an attack. He can already hear the sing-song response at the admittance that he’s been listening.

Screwing the Pavlovian pooch, with the way that he's more than aware that his dick’s half-hard. The result of taking care of himself one too many times - an attempt at getting himself back to sleep, pretending that he isn’t jerking himself off to the beat of the frame that bangs against the walls.

Luckily, Wade zeros in on the exact wrong part. Sputtering, as water drips down his chin, “That’s all? What do you mean, that’s all?”

“You heard me,” The paper crinkles in his fist, “In fact, I’m surprised you even got round one off. Much less that she’s sticking around for another.”

“You wound me, and yet, flatter.” Wade’s hand flattens over his heart, “I never knew you thought about me like that.”

“I haven’t been thinking about you, you ass,” Logan snarls, teeth bared, “I just know that if you’re talking, then you’re not doing it right.”

Wade grins at that, teeth scraping over his lower lip as they stretch wide.

Eyes flicking over his form, assessing in a way that has Logan bristling - voice going syrupy-smooth, “Is that right? You think you can do better, mutton chops?”

The breath he inhales is ragged. That feeling back again - an urge to curl his hand around Wade’s throat, and squeeze.

“Yeah,” Logan growls out, “Yeah, I fucking do.”

The table shakes as Wade plops himself down on the edge, a leg crossing over the other. Interest gleaming in his eyes as his head tilts towards the bedroom door.

“Alright. Bring on the magic tricks, Angier.” His hands splay wide, wiggling, “Gonna show me how to make your fingers disappear?”

Logan glares, his eyes flicking down to where the fleece pulls across his hips.

“Right.” He spits, “Like you’ve got another in you?”

“Hey now, pookums. Marvel Jesus, remember?” Wade’s hand makes a sweeping gesture in front of his crotch, “Just give me three minutes and I’ll have risen.”

“That’s disgusting.” Logan barks, “And get off the table.”

If anything, it makes Wade sit harder. His legs pivoting until he can spread his thighs on either side of the paper, ankles dangling off the edge.

“Disgusting?” His tone pitches up, “Says the man that’s rocking a stiffy. Gonna jerk it at the breakfast table when I leave? You know Blind Al eats there.”

The paper twitches reflexivity in his hands, and Wade’s smile pulls wider as Logan shoots him a death glare, lips curling over teeth.

“Why the fuck would I do something like that?”

Wade hums, “Call it an educated wish.”

“Call it an educated get-the-fuck-out-of-here.” Logan scoffs. His eyes flicking towards the bedroom, the door still shut, “You’re talking like she wants this.”

Wade’s finger presses at the edge of the newspaper he’s hiding behind, and Logan bats his hand away.

He’s still not gotten used to all the skin, he doesn’t know where to look. The slightest shift back in his chair, but he’s already pressed up against the wall.

“Oh please, as if we don’t take turns roleplaying as you,” Wade sighs longingly, “This would be a wet dream come true.”

His eyes narrow then, as his tongue runs across his lip. Voice dropping again, coaxing.

“Look,” Wade says it like he’s leveling with him - talking man-to-man,“If you wanted to fuck her, peanut, all you had to do was ask.”

And for a moment, Logan truly considers it. Not just the fantasy that’s been playing through his head for weeks.

Weirder shit has happened, he supposed.

He’s already been claw-deep into Wade’s guts. A brawl in that shitty van that lasted until morning. Bound tip-to-tip in the void for god knows how long.

Getting walked in on in the bathroom at least twice in the last month. A gleeful “mind if I cut in?”, before Logan’s fist is sending him into the vanity.

The last time it took a full week to get the sink fixed.

Not to mention that Wade apparently seems so certain that his clothes were now their clothes.

So fucking keen on sharing.

So it wasn’t a stretch to think he might want to share you, too.

There’s something caught between his teeth, heavy on his tongue. About to loosen, when the door is opening.

Swallowing them down as you step through, thighs bare under a too-big t-shirt. Arms wrapping around Wade’s shoulders as your lips press against his cheek.

“Thought you were coming back, Red.” You coo. Drawn out by the sound of bickering as you had basked in your afterglow.

“Morning, Logan.” A smile sent his way after, turning sheepish, “You’re up early. Hope we didn’t wake you.”

He grunts in reply. Pretending there wasn’t a little jolt in his stomach at the sound of his name. That he hadn’t been thinking about spreading you across this table, lifting the hem of your shirt up-

If he’d been in your bed, no one would have had to wonder.

The whole damn floor would’ve been woken up.

“He thinks I fuck bad, so I’m gonna prove he’s wrong,” Wade adds in, cheerfully, “That okay with you, gorgeous?”

Logan glares over the top of his paper. A rough clearing in his throat as your eyebrows lift, glancing his way.

He hadn’t really meant to bring you into this, or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.

That eye contact dropping, as you lean into Wade, your chin propped on his shoulder, “Is that right? How are you going to do that?”

Logan’s answer comes out flat, as he examines an ad in the bottom corner of the page,“I’m not doing anything.”

Wade sighs, his head knocking back against your shoulder.

“Come on, Wolvie. I would love for you to prove me wrong,” He needles, digging deep, “Put your money where my cock should be.”

Logan still doesn’t look up, “Not interested, I’m busy.”

The sigh that pulls from his lungs is long, a near-whine.

“What, with reading?” He exclaims, “Jesus you really are old. The retirement home called, they’re missing a resident.”

Logan’s eyes snap up now, narrowing, “Fuck. Off.”

With a sigh, Wade fucks off. Legs curling, until he’s rolling off the table. Your hand fitting in his, a water bottle tucked under your arm as you head back towards the room.

“The offer still stands!” He calls.

A beat, before you turn.

“Logan?” You call, as he’s helpless - his eyes pulling away. Drawn to you.

A little wink sent his way. Your finger gesturing towards his chest, as you smile.

“Your paper’s upside down.”

Logan’s still not quite sure how he got here. His feet moving on his own, fingers catching the bedroom door just as it starts to close.

Almost backing out when he sees the look of Wade’s face, pleased as fucking punch.

Standing by the edge of the bed now, as you kneel on it in front of him. Fingers slipping across his chest - curious, with the way your eyes flicker over his face. Eager, though you hide it well.

“So what exactly did you tell Wade to get him so worked up?” Your fingers twine around his neck, as his find your hips.

He hums at that - flicking towards his roommate before they find yours again.

“All I said was that if I can hear his mouth running from out there,” Logan’s fingers dent into soft skin, tugging you closer, “He can’t be doing a good job.”

There’s a shift off to the side. Wade sinking down into the beanbag chair he pulled up,“Can you believe that? As if I don’t have a good grade in my oral and my dickabilties.”

“A gold star, babe.” You shoot him a tender smile, before they focus on Logan again. Shoulder lifting, as your grin grows, “I mean, Merc with a Mouth, right? Seems like part of the package.”

He huffs, eyes dropping to your lips.

“You think it’s good,” Logan’s tone is almost pitying, “But it’s only because you haven’t had better.”

That pulls a gasp from your throat, eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah, I think you’re trying to emasculate me, but honestly…” Wade’s hand splays wide over his crotch, “Sploosh.”

“Sploosh.” You echo softly, and he can feel you shift closer. Can smell the fresh curl of arousal that heats your skin, as his hands ghost higher. A small smile, as your head tilts, “So you just all talk then, or…”

“No.” Logan scoffs, “No, I’m not.”

He closes the gap, more certain now. Mouth pressing against yours, as you squeak - tense in his arms, until you go liquid.

Soft tits pressed to his chest as his tongue sweeps against your lips. Swallowing a pretty moan as they part for him, his own groan rumbling in his chest as his hands wander.

Slipping down, ghosting against skin. Feeling the goosebumps that rise, as he draws circles against your hip. His name whimpered, and it shoots straight to his cock.

Not even a heartbeat, before the chatter begins.

“Bet your pussy’s wet already, isn’t it baby?” He coos, “A kiss like that, it’s even got me a little worked up. And I’m just producing this show.”

Logan’s eyes crack open as he glares, “You’re not producing shit, asshole.”

“Ooh, I bet you SO wish you worded that in a different way-”

You huff against his mouth, your touch guiding him back. The thought lingers, curiosity burning. Letting his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, knuckles brushing your thigh.

Tracing around to the curve of your ass, his wide palm splaying out, then squeezing against bare flesh.

“Is he right?” He rasps, his lips brushing against yours. Half-hating that he’s letting Wade get in his head, but the thought-

You gasp again, and his teeth flash with his smirk, “Are you wet for me already, sweetheart?”

“She’s been since she first saw you. Goddamn Niagara Falls,” Wade’s voice has softened - teasing now, “Isn’t that right, gorgeous?”

An amused shake of your head, as something silent passes between them. Logan doesn’t pretend to know how your relationship works - other than the fact that Wade was willing to do anything to save this world for you.

And that there’s something inside him that tightens - a flicker in his belly - whenever he looks at you. Whenever Wade flirts with him. That sharp annoyance from their meeting slowly bleeding out with each day goes by.

Something else taking root, the more time he spends with both of you. He’s not good with his emotions. Doesn’t want to name that ache when he saw you together.

A silent wish, with his shifting daydreams. With the jerk of his fist in the morning. Imaging you in his bed, at first. And then, more - two sets of hands. Two mouths at his cock, and then he’s suddenly coming harder than he has before.

He’s become greedy, the more you both give him.

“Show me.” It’s a command, soft and low.

Logan can feel your thighs press together, that little squirm. Tucking this new discovery away as you lean back, eyes dark with desire.

The briefest hesitance, before your fingers loosen from him. Slipping down, under the hem of your shirt. The nails on your other hand bite into his shoulder as you sigh - two fingers gliding through the wet folds of your pussy.

Pulling them back for him to see. Glistening, your arousal stringing between them. His hand is already curling around your wrist. No resistance as he tugs - guiding your fingers past his lips as they part.

Sucking the sweet taste of you as he groans, deep in his chest. Eyes fixed on yours so he can see the way yours widen, feeling how your fingers flex against the swipe of his tongue.

“Logan.” You sigh his name, and it only makes his moan - eyes shutting as you press down against his tongue. The need slipping into your voice, pleading.

“I wanna feel your mouth. Show me, too,” You sigh, as you slip from him, “Show me what you meant.”

Christ, he’s been aching for this. Eager to drown himself in your pussy, if you’d let him.

There’s a sharp clap that forces his eyes open. Wade’s enthusiasm as he drags the bag closer, chin cradled in his hands.

“Yeah, Logan. You gonna show us your dickabilites, or what?”

He shoots him a withering look. Softening before he turns to you, his chin tipping up.

“Lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.”

You listen so sweetly, and it makes his cock throb. A quick dart of your eyes over to your boyfriend, who only nods.

“Take that off, baby,” Wade coos, “Show him how pretty you are.”

He’s not sure when he started letting Wade make orders, but for once he’s not wanting to argue about his suggestions.

Because fuck, you are pretty. No arguing with that.

Letting his eyes sweep over every inch that is revealed, as you lift the hem of your shirt. The curve of your hips, your soft tits that he can’t wait to get his mouth on.

Baring yourself, as you lean back against the pillows. His eyes are fixed on your cunt, already fitting himself between your thighs. Fingers reaching - ready to part you open. Taste you himself, bury his tongue inside you.

Your hand reaches out, pushing against his shoulder.

“Wait, you too.” You pout, “Let’s play fair, okay?”

He huffs, lips quirking. Hands catching the hem as he tugs his own shirt off, Wade diving for it as he tossed it towards the floor.

Twin gasps rise, and if he was a much younger man, he may have blushed.

“Fuck.” Wade groans, a hand dropping down his crotch and squeezing.

You’re already leaning forward, a hand flattening against his skin. A soft "wow" slipping from your lips - feeling the way his muscles jump as you slide over his pecs, the thick hair covering them.

A hand hooking around his shoulder - a smirk hidden as you tug him down on top of you.

Soft, beneath him. Those needy whines he loves so much caught between your teeth as he noses at your neck. Teeth nipping at skin, an urge to leave a mark for later.

That cry finally loosened as he moves down. Teeth and tongue biting and soothing at the tight peaks of your nipples. Broad hands cupping and squeezing, liking the way they fit in his palms. The way you moan, arching into his touch.

“Give me more of that,” He murmurs against your skin, "I want to hear you."

Your body tensing beneath his when he settles between your thighs. They have to spread, to fit his shoulders. Opening you up, putting you on display.

Watching how you clench - a throaty chuckle as his thumb presses just shy of your folds. Tugging you open, seeing how your skin glistens with slick already.

“Pretty fucking sight, you know that?” His eyes flip up to yours.

You’re propped up on your elbows. Teeth sinking into your lip, breath held as your eyebrows slant in anticipation. Lips parting with his words, a minute shift of your hips.

“You should see it when it’s stuffed full. Boston cream's got nothing on her."

There’s an embarrassed groan of his name. Logan ignores him - letting his thumb rub against the tight nub of your clit, instead. Your word turning into a sharp, inhaled breath.

Teasing, each circle achingly slow. Aware of the two sets of eyes on him, burning his skin. A low ache in his belly, his glaze fixing on yours, watching as you inhale as his mouth lowers.

A soft lick, tongue lapping against your slit. Tasting you more thoroughly, dragging against soaked skin, as his fingers tease at your entrance.

Focusing on your clit, tight flicks with his tongue. Letting his lips suck on the tight bud, as he sinks down to one knuckle, then another. A second finger slipping in once you get used to him, making room for himself as he scissors you open.

He can hear the soft, wet sound of your cunt, with each plunge of his fingers. Flexing and curling them until he can feel you clamp down.

The quiet sounds you make - soft breaths and gasps - turning louder. Panting now, as you whine. Hips lifting to meet the curl of his tongue, until he pulls back.

“Should be hearing this,” Logan grits out. A quick glance towards Wade as his fingers pound into you, “Not you talking out of your ass.”

There’s silence for a long moment, the words coming out distracted.

“You talk about my ass an awful lot for a man who pretends he's not interested,” Wade manages, slowly, “You change your mind about that, too?”

His breath shallow, as Logan growls in annoyance. Attention returning back to you. Fingers working faster, head dropping again to tongue at your clit.

A leg hooks over his shoulder - a heel digging into his back, tugging him closer. Logan loses himself - growling into your pussy. His own hips pressing down into the bed, as he tugs at his belt and button, relieving the too-tight ache of denim.

Feeling how you leak against his palm, tighten around his fingers. Chase that winding pleasure as you arch into his mouth. A hand drifting off the bed, reaching. Grasping.

“Logan.” You’re begging again, pleading. For more, for anything. For him not to stop, and he leans into the way you tug at his hair, guiding him to the right spot.

You come with your fingers entwined with Wade’s. With your thighs clamped against Logan's ears as he rips a cry from you - long and loud - threatening to suffocate him.

Would be the way he’d choose to die, if he could.

The sounds come flooding back, as your thighs loosen. Boneless and languid, your smile wide as your fingers trace his scruff, the sharp curve of his jaw.

Perhaps he was wrong, to think he could silence Wade entirely. Your orgasm has only made him more vocal - complaints about how “fucking hard he is” mixing with rambling praise.

“Wilson.” He finds himself growling. Beckoning with two fingers, as Wade practically springs from the bag.

“Oh my GOD,” Wade is gushing, clambering onto the bed with him, “This is way better than joining the Avengers. Even if they do have Thor.”

“Huge praise.” You smile drunkenly, pushing yourself up to press your mouth against his.

And under his direct instructions, Logan finds that Wade almost listens.

“Get on your back,” He points, as you scooch to make room.

"Ooh, dirty." Wade grins, splaying out on his back, hands tucked under his head.

“No,” Logan makes a frustrated sound - ignoring another comment. A twirl of his finger, “The other way.”

His head is cradled near your hips now, legs stretched out toward the pillows.

Logan’s next words are a growl, “Now, clean her up.”

Wade groans, as he catches up.

“Fuck.” He whines, “Yeah. Come here, baby.”

Hands guiding you into place, your knees framing his head, as you face towards the headboard. Wade’s mouth already tipping up to meet you, a soft moan as his tongue swipes against your slit.

“I don’t want to hear you until she comes.” Logan rasps, and he can see the way Wade’s hips lift.

Just now catching the darkened fabric, where it tents.

Another thing to catalog.

Content for now to let his hands drift as he stands behind you at the edge of the bed, his chest pressing to your back. Sucking a mark in the hollow under your ear, feeling the buzz of your whine against his lips.

Hands cupping your breasts again, feeling their weight. Pinching at the tight peaks, before his thumb is smoothing over them.

Your eyes are blown wide, fingers curling against your thighs. Panting as the overstimulation tips towards pleasure, the feel of the sweet mouth below you soft and familiar.

Shifting as you sit, rocking back to where Logan’s cock presses against your lower back. His hands tugging at the zipper, shoving his jeans down as he works himself free. Kicking them off, after.

You gasp when you see him from over your shoulder, and he can’t help the way he twitches in his hand at the sound. Can’t pretend he isn’t leaking from tasting you, his cock heavy as he lets go to let it hang between his thighs.

“Fuck, that’s not fair.” It’s muffled, and you hum in agreement as Wade lifts you to get a better look, “God didn’t make you perfect enough as-is? Just had to make you proportional, you goddamn stallion.”

A derisive sound as his arm wiggles out from under you, fingers reaching.

“And Jesus H. Christ, look at the girth-”

Logan bats his hand away.

It should annoy him. That Wade isn’t listening. That he’s commenting on his cock - but it doesn’t.

Can’t help but think that in here, in this room, the chatter isn’t so bad. Would never admit that he’s wrong, just that when he’s admiring and not on a dumb-as-fuck tangent, it’s almost - flattering.

Maybe that’s too far. Tolerable, perhaps.

“You want my mouth?” You offer sweetly, breaking into his thoughts. Hungrily.

There’s a flash of white teeth as Logan smiles. A hand pressing gently against your back, until you’re stretched out over Wade.

“No. I’m still gonna fuck you, baby.” He rasps, “Just wanted a little peace and quiet while doing it.”

You moan, thighs inching wider. Head turned so you can watch the way he moves behind you. Adjusting your hips until your ass is in the air, his fingers gripping the base of his cock as he lines himself up.

“Keep going, Wilson.” He grits out, when the man goes still beneath them.

A rough chuckle rattles.

“Not a fucking chance, human tripod. I am SO watching this.”

Fuck it. He lets him.

Letting the tip of his cock press against your entrance. Wade’s arms curling around your thighs, holding you in place as you string tight above him.

“God, it’s even bigger from this angle. Feels like I’m in a goddamn eclipse right now.”

“Why do you sound surprised, babe?” Your voice is strained. Face buried against Wade’s stomach, fingers curled in the sheets, “I thought you guys fucked in the void.”

That fleeting curl of warmth leaves him.

“We what?” Logan growls, leaning back to glare at the peek of dark brown eyes, the top of a bald head he wants to slap.

Teeth bared, as he snarls, “We didn’t fuck. I beat the shit out of him in a goddamn van.”

“All night long.” Wade laughs - and then sighs fondly, “And isn’t that just the same thing?”

Fingers encircle his cock from below before he can retort, squeezing. A tug as he guides him into the tight clench of your pussy, and Logan thinks he really should just shove his claws into Wade’s dick.

But that desire bleeds away, as you stretch around him. The twin groans from beneath him, the sounds blending together.

“Oh,” You moan, clenching around him. Back arching, as he slips in another inch, “Makes sense. Was… was just wondering why it took you so long to join us.”

Logan goes still for a moment, with this new information. A realization that he could have had this the whole time, if he had asked.

That Wade hadn’t been joking before.

He groans, hips snapping forward. A grunt below as your knees squeeze against Wade’s throat, but from the way you squirm, Logan can tell that his mouth is at work again.

Teasing at your clit, as his own hips slowly start to move. Feet planting on the bedroom floor as his hands fit against your waist.

Using the leverage to drive himself deep. Hips flush as his balls slap against your skin, growing sticky with your release.

“This is hot, this is so fucking hot,” Wade groans, babbling as he sucks in a breath, “I’m so going to jerk my dick raw thinking about this later.”

And with the reminder, he supposes he can throw his roommate a bone.

“Come on, baby,” Logan rasps - reaching. A little nudge against your chin, angling your head, “Looks like he needs a little help.”

It’s benevolent. It’s selfish - his fingers biting into skin as you realize what he means. Watching as you tug at the waistband of Wade’s sweatpants, pushing them down.

The man moans, from between your thighs. Sweet nothings mumbled as your hand wraps around his cock, angling it into your waiting mouth.

Watching how the leaking tip presses into your cheek. The buck of his hips as you fist moves, while you suck - your spit slicking up his cock.

It looks like the rest of him. Mottled skin, the tip flushed a deeper shade of red. Long and thick in your hand - Logan’s cock throbbing at the way you swallow him down, how your lips part to make him fit.

His pace picking up. Pounding into your tight, wet cunt as Wade groans against your clit. Tongue lapping and licking, winding you higher as Logan drives you towards a second.

Slowly drifting, as the flicks of his tongue grow longer. The tip pressing against your folds, as you groan around his cock.

Further down. Tasting the tang of your release - the salt of skin where you’re split open, stretched wide.

And then further. Logan jerks, as something wet drags along his shaft.

“Wade.” It comes out as a rough growl. Pitching into a huffing whine when it happens again, flattening against the heavy weight of his balls.

Choking him, as his rhythm stutters. Hips flexing into you as he grinds himself flush, teeth gritting.

“Fuck.” It’s hushed, pulled from his lungs.

Having to find himself again - hold back the urge to come right that second - as you squirm beneath him. Wade’s tongue traveling from your clit to the tight seam of his sack, his hips rocking in your mouth.

Finding a rhythm together, Logan’s head tilting back. The room filled with lewd sounds of their joining, of wet mouths and the rhythmic pounding of the headboard against the wall.

Lucky that Al was out for the morning, or else they’d never hear the end of it.

Your cries pitch up, as his cock drags against the spot his fingers found. Something clenching deep in his guts, eyes dragging down to how you look wrapped around him. The pink peek of tongue beneath, how the combination makes his toes curl.

Imagining another morning. Sharing you in another way, his cock buried in your ass while your lover fills your cunt. Whimpering between them, unable to form words.

The sound you make now are not that different - the cadence of your panting is one he’s coming to recognize.

“You close, sweetheart?” He rasps, arcing over you, “Can feel your pussy clenching around me. So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”

It pulls a moan from you, head lifting from Wade’s cock. Resting against his stomach, as your hand wraps around him. The jerk of your fist messy, off rhythm.

“Yeah, you are.” Logan hums, as his hips rut into you, “Come on, Wilson. Make our girl come.”

There’s a rough groan. Wade listens for once, head tilting to suck at your clit. Logan concentrating on the angle that makes you cry out, a hand fisting in the sheets.

Their names a mumbled mess on your lips, as you’re yanked higher and higher. Your moans pitching up, growing louder.

Just like his dreams. Even better, really.

“Please,” You whine, “I’m, I’m-”

A high-pitched gasp, then, as your face buries against Wade’s hips. As your pussy clamps down around his cock, fluttering with the steady saw of his hips.

“Good fucking girl.” The praise is soft, as his thumbs rub circles against your skin, “That’s it, let him taste how sweet you are.”

Working together, the tight licks against your clit going lazy again. Dipping to your entrance to taste your release against his shaft, Wade’s cock leaking and bobbing against his stomach.

Drawing out your pleasure, until the stars fade from your half-lidded eyes. Until the rushing in your veins ebb, and the pulse around his cock fades.

A low sigh, before Logan’s reaching - his chin tucking against your shoulder. His hand curling around yours, guiding it back to Wade's cock.

“Don’t forget about him.” Another command, but gentle this time. His hand moving with yours, palm mapping your knuckles as he sets a rhythm, “There you go.”

He could let go. You’ve found yourself again, eyes hazy. But he keeps his hand there. Keeps a pace that is so much firmer than your own, his own hips matching the rhythm as he chases his own end.

Wade’s groan replaces yours. A hand leaving your thigh to wrap around his, biting down hard into muscle. It only drives him deeper into you. Logan’s own moan bitten back as the tongue against his dick slips against his sack again.

Then against the thin layer of skin just behind, teasing.

“Fuck.” It’s a rough growl.

His hand works faster, teeth gritting. Feral sounds caught in his throat, as the pressure in his belly grows.

The last thing he sees before he comes is the drips of white against his knuckles. The warmth, a ragged groan against the inside of his thigh. Your mouth closing around to catch the rest, taking Wade’s cock into your throat with a soft sigh.

It robs him of his breath. A shuddering moan, as he grinds himself deep. Spilling into you again and again with each pulse of his cock, blood rushing in his ears.

Legs threatening to give as he empties himself, as his chest presses flush against your back. His face buried in your hair, as your tongue traces his knuckles. Cleaning them, as he did for you.

When he can, Logan eases from you with a grunt. Watching how you gape, then clench, now empty.

A bead of his release welling up, dripping against your skin. You go to move, but Wade’s hands curl around your calves - pulling you flush.

It’s hard to look away, as he licks away Logan’s come. A sharp ache of desire with the sound of a needy groan, as his tongue dipping inside.

Maybe Wade doesn’t have such a bad mouth, after all.

Logan’s arm is numb, but he can’t bring himself to move. Can’t remember a time when he’d let his brain turn off like this. A brief moment of silence, and it’s bliss. His world standing still.

“So that’s how you do it.” You muse quietly, dizzily. Head cradled against his chest - fingers dragging through the hair, gently scratching.

A stirring on his other side, where Wade is using his bicep like a pillow.

“Mm, I don’t think I got it,” Wade counters, but it’s soft - hazy at the edges. “Think I missed a couple steps. Was that round two or three?

"Three," You say - as Logan grunts, "Two."

The fingers on his chest drift down, dipping over his stomach.

“Well, either way...” You hum, snuggling a little closer, “Maybe you oughta show us, one more time.”

Wade flips over then, chin propped in his hand, “At least. Maybe even twice. We’re bad learners, peanut. Dumb as fucking rocks, really.”

“Mhmm,” You sigh, “Really dumb. Can't even count.”

And he can’t stop the twitch of his lips, even with his eyes closed. Had forgotten what it was like to be warm like this.

To be wanted.

And maybe, he even feels… content.

Something he never thought he’d be, again.

thank you so much for reading! it means so much and I am so happy to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖

[kbwrites]

“Who did this to you?” A deep voice echoes, vibrating around the walls of the throne room. On the opulent throne sits the owner of the baritone voice — Ryomen Sukuna. The king of curses, resting his head on his arm as he looks down at you, too scared to look up from your feet.

“I don’t like repeating myself.” He warns, your body hasn’t ceased shaking. Your uniform is tattered, the rips in the fabric revealing deep purple bruises. Uraume was the one that found you, unconscious in the butlers pantry. After waking you up they brought you to the throne room. So there you were, kneeling at the feet of your king.

You arrived to the estate a year ago, your life as a servant was agreeable. Lord Sukuna treated all his servants well. You were loyal, efficient and pleasant to look at, it was only a matter of time before he started to notice you.

At first he requested you be the one to serve him breakfast. Then it became lunch, and suddenly you tended to all his meals. He demanded you for everything, his bathing, dressing. He could do all of these things himself of course, but he prefered your gentle hands. His personal attendant, not even Uraume, had seen the king of curses at his most vulnerable... but you had bared witness to all of him.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me who. Then why?” Ryomen slowly rises from his throne, his looming figure towering over your kneeling body. He lowers himself to your level, one hand reaches down to lift your chin. Firm yet gentle he forces you to look up at him, your eyes meeting his red ones. Your once flawless skin is covered in bruises. His eyes darken.

“They t-think you favor me.” Is all you can manage to get out.

Word spreads around the estate of course. And plus Sukuna didn’t exactly hide his preference for you. You didn’t sleep with the rest of the help, you were given a room connected to his. ‘In case he requested your presence in the night’ but the reality was he slept better knowing you were near. You didn’t eat the servant food, you dined in the great hall. At a separate table he had made for you. All of these things on full display for the others to see, it wasn’t long before the insults started. At first it was the odd ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ being mumbled in passing. Then an accidental shove into the wall, always followed by a curt “sorry”.

But today? It was your birthday. You had only mentioned it to Ryomen in passing one day at breakfast. He never understood the need for such a useless celebration. You went about your duties for the day, when Uraume found you and handed you a small box. And there on display for everyone to see, a beautiful beaded bracelet made from polished cherry wood. A token of appreciation ‘for your hard work’.

A gift from the king of curses.

“What’s so great about you anyway?”

“Lord Sukuna’s bed-warmer gets everything she wants!”

They punched and kicked, throwing you into the pantry. The group of servants you once thought of as your family. Clouded by jealousy, hatred towards you — the lord’s favorite.

Ryomen Sukuna, the epitome of ruthlessness and malevolence, softens his gaze. He looks upon your trembling form with… pity? His moment of weakness is replaced by an unreadable expression.

“You have been relieved of your servant duties. You will stay here in my quarters from here on out.” It’s a demand, leaving no room for objection. Your eyes well up with tears looking up at your king, his other hand wipes them away. He rises, walking towards the door, his back facing you.

“Get up. Uraume will tend to your injuries. Once you are well, we will visit the servant’s quarters. You will point out those who laid their filthy hands on you, and I will kill them.”

part 2 out now!!

[23victoria]

“can you watch my boyfriend for a sec?” ❁

f1 grid x fem!reader

summary: TikTok trend with the grid!!

authors note: saw the carlos one and knew i had to write about it!! his reaction made me laugh!! i also just saw mclaren do it to oscar!! i hope the other teams do it to their drivers as well!! also first time writing for seb, jenson, and daniel, i had the time so i said why not?!any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab something from the car."

You head out, leaving Lewis alone in front of your phone's camera. He looks around, slightly bewildered.

"What? Y/N who’s on the phone? Uh, hey there. I guess I'm being watched. So... how's everyone doing? Good? Cool. Uh, any Mercedes fans here?" He starts talking about his day and how Roscoe is doing, trying to entertain the 'audience'. "Alright, she'll be back any minute now... right?"

Max

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take out the trash."

Max raises an eyebrow as you walk away. He looks at the phone, unsure of what to say.

"Huh? Um, okay. This is weird. Hi, everyone….I guess…..Y/N what is this?! Who’s on the phone? So…what do we do now? Should I... talk about racing? Or... maybe I could just sit here…?" He awkwardly shuffles in his seat, checking his watch. "How long does it take to throw out the trash? Y/N come back! I don’t know what to say or do!"

Lando

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get a drink from the kitchen."

Lando grins as you walk away, immediately knowing the TikTok trend. He leans in closer to the camera.

"Hey, TikTok! I was wondering when Y/N was going to do this trend on me! What have you guys been up to? Should I prank her back? Give me some ideas in the comments!" He starts to look around, trying to find something to do. "Should I play some games on my computer or maybe I'll hide and jump out when she gets back?"

Oscar

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get my food."

Oscar blinks, looking at the phone and then at the door you just walked towards. He frowns slightly.

"Huh? What….okay? Uh, hi? I guess you guys are going to watch me eat my breakfast…Not sure what I'm supposed to do here. Should I be saying something interesting?" He scratches his head, and moves his food around, clearly uncomfortable. "So, did you guys have breakfast yet? I hope you did, breakfast is important….uhhh yea. Y/N!! Babe!! Come back!! I don’t know what to do!!"

Charles

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take a call."

Charles watches you leave, then looks at the phone, confused but trying to be polite.

"Uh? Wait what? Hello, everyone. I guess your...on watch duty?" He laughs nervously. "This feels strange. Maybe I should sing a song? Or talk about Ferrari? Oh, I know, I'll play some music on my piano!" He moves towards the piano, but then hesitates. "Wait, how long is this call going to be? Y/N! Baby!!"

Carlos

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to make a smoothie."

Carlos looks at the camera, then at the direction you went, raising an eyebrow.

“What is this? Hello? Anyone there? Who were you talking to? Y/N?! Uhhhh hi… Wait, a smoothie? Bebe make me one too please! Okay, hi everyone. This is Carlos, just here... being watched?" He starts looking around, picking up random items on the table. "So, let me show you my favorite things on this table. This is a cool pen, and this is... a coaster. Fascinating, right?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "This is so weird. How long does making a smoothie take anyway?"

Sebastian

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to water the plants."

Sebastian gives you a puzzled look as you leave and then turns to the camera, smiling politely.

"What?! Y/N what is this? Hello? Hello? Anywhere there? I’m confused… Y/N!! Who were you talking too? Honey? … Um, hello everyone… I guess I'm under surveillance now." He chuckles. "So, while she's watering the plants, let's talk about... sustainability! Did you know you can make your own compost at home? It's really simple and great for your garden." He starts explaining the process, gesturing enthusiastically. "I hope she comes back soon because I might run out of eco-friendly tips! Oh wait!! I know! Let me show you my bees!!"

Jenson

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab the mail."

Jenson watches you leave with a bemused smile, then looks at the phone.

"Ummm what?! Babe? Y/N? Hello? Uhhh..hey there. So, I guess I need to be watched for a minute. You guys are in babysitting duty? Let’s see... what can I do to entertain you?" He glances around and spots his dogs. "Hey, meet my dogs! Come here babies!." He tries to get their attention but Bentley and Rouge ignore him, while Storm walks up to him, just to sit and stare at him. "Well, that didn’t go as planned. I guess they’re tired from playing this morning. Oh well, maybe next time! Isn’t that right Storm." he says putting down the camera.

Daniel

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to fix something in the bathroom."

Daniel immediately grins and laughs as you walk away, sensing a prank.

“Huh? Babe? What? Oh wait! It’s that TikTok trend!! Alright, what’s up TikTok, what's going on? He starts making funny faces at the camera and then leans in closer. "I have no idea what to talk about. This is so stupid and awkward.” He says bursting out laughing. He keeps glancing towards the bathroom, barely containing his laughter. "Babe come back!!"

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