#and then i returned the question as one does and then he just started telling me about how shit his classes are 😭😭😭

[parfaitblogs]

over the moon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a bout of insomnia prompts the usage of your arguably overworked baking equipment. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. cliché flour fight into kissing... sorry... no i'm not. use of pet names. make out sesh (obviously).  word count: 1.4k a/n: also known as spencer and reader take on the margotlia bucket list for margovember!!! happy birthday to my lover @pathologicalreid!!! who has very quickly become my other half on this silly little side of tumblr. a prophet told me there are snickerdoodle cookies and a smithsonian date with our names on it in our futures ♡

"Honey, please tell me the light on in the kitchen is you getting a glass of water."

Like a deer in headlights, you're frozen in your beelined pathway between the fridge and the countertop of Spencer's kitchen, the carton of eggs in your hands preventing any attempt of a lie to him.

"Uh..." Your eyes lock with his, and he's visibly deflating upon spotting the pantry's baking ingredients arranged in front of you. "I'm just getting water?"

"I didn't realise you put sticks of butter into your water," he counters, voice meticulously picking apart your lie in front of your face. "Does that taste good?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure," he nods his head, his feet carrying him over to you behind the counter. "What recipe have you chosen to victimise today?"

"Snickerdoodle cookies," you mumble, as his arms wrap around your waist, and his chin sits on your shoulder, eyes peering at your phone screen that had the cookie recipe open. 

"Any particular reason?" 

"I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," he nods, and a beat passes where you mumble a quiet apology to him, before he's pulling away from you and picking up your phone. "Where do we start?"

It wasn't the first time you had baked instead of sleeping, and it certainly wasn't the first time Spencer had woken up to the sound of your hand mixer combining sugar and butter, or the oven timer dinging to accompany the smell of freshly baked muffins. In fact, he had become accustomed to not getting through an entire fortnight without at least one tray of baked goods taking up counter space. 

It was the first time he had offered to help you, though. He either accompanied you and watched you bake, or sat at his desk to get paperwork done (he said he should use the extra time spent conscious wisely). 

"You don't have to help," you're shaking your head, but he's already going to the sink to wash his hands. 

"You only slept for two hours before waking up to do this. I'd like to get you back to bed sooner rather than later," he answers, patting his hands dry. "I won't sleep until you do, anyways."

"Okay," you relent, staring at him almost stunned, before you return to the recipe you had up on your phone. "Um... could you combine the sugar and butter?"

Baking with Spencer Reid seemed to make everything a lot easier. Ignoring the obvious (the help an extra set of hands provided), his eidetic memory meant you could throw a step his way, and he'd know exactly what he was doing. Having asked him to add the eggs to his sugar and butter mix, he was already separating the yolk from the whites before you needed to say a thing.

"Have you ever stuck your hand into flour?" you ask him, and he lifts his head, eyebrows frowning together. 

"No. Why would I do that?"

"To know what it feels like," you say, dryly, though there isn't any malice behind it. "Have you never wanted to know what it feels like?"

"You can use context clues to figure out what it would feel like," he replies. "Correct?" 

"Spencer, you're entirely missing the point," you shake your head, and though he lifts his head from his sugar-butter-and-egg mixture to question you, he doesn't even remotely expect a large fistful of flour to explode across his chest. 

Then, you're laughing, and he's still battling with the initial shock of your flour attack for a few more seconds to laugh with you. But, when he does, he's almost mocking with it, and your face falls when he's putting his own hand into the container labelled flour, lifting it, and dragging his hand over your stomach. 

"Oh my God!" you say through a laugh, looking down at the smear of flour on your t-shirt. "Spencer!"

"Reap what you can sow," he retorts. 

So, you do.

You aren't too sure when the flour fighting gets more intimate. Somewhere between your fingers running it through his hair, and his hands landing on your ass, as he tugs you into him.

You're heaving, though the smile on your face is perfect, and he's certain he might be falling in love with you all over again. Cheeks stained in flour and all. 

"Hello," you sing, lifting your chin up to smile at him.

"Hi, sweet girl," he replies, ducking his head down to brush his lips against yours, and you pull a face at the faint taste of flour on them. 

Your finger lifts up to brush his lower lip, face growing concentrated as you brush the powder off it. "You've got a little... something..." 

"Do I?" he asks, condescendingly, and you're firmly nodding your head. 

"Yep. This is why I bake alone, Spencer Reid," you tut. 

His eyebrows raise. "I don't know if I want to even try to prove you wrong."

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Duly noted. Anything you do recommend?"

You pause. "Kissing me might help in my journey of forgiving you for this mess."

If he's got any plan to defend himself, it crumbles beneath the words of your request, and his lips are stretching into a smile. 

"I'll do whatever I can."

His lips have a film on them from the brushed away flour, making them softer than they usually are, as he presses them against yours. Hands that were once resting almost teasingly on your ass lift to your hips, and your own drop to the countertop behind him as you lean into him.

As you usually feel in your slow moments like this with him, you feel your heart soar, your head tilting to the side as you accomodate his face being so close to your own. 

Arguably, his favourite thing about kissing you for longer than half a second, is the mewls and hums that leave your lips. Never too much to prompt anything more, but instead just enough to tell him just how much you enjoy kissing him. A feeling that is entirely mutual.

As soon as it starts, it's over. Which can't really be true, for you are panting when his head pulls away from yours,  and he's got that glassy look in his eyes that always makes your body warm. 

"We need to go shower," he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. 

You want to decline, just to stay standing right there in the kitchen with him, the urge to keep kissing him almost overwhelming. But his fingers have lifted to brush against a patch of flour on your neck, and you're surrendering at the feeling. 

"Okay."

Thus, forty-five minutes and one unreasonably long shower later, you were standing back in the kitchen, a bowl with cinnamon and sugar in front of you. Spencer's t-shirt hanging off your body — after you had expertly coerced him into letting you wear it — and a fork in your hands as you whisk the two toppings together. 

He's sitting on a stool on the other side of the bench, stirring the dough together after you had complained it was too thick. He argued it was supposed to be. 

Heading over to Spencer once the cinnamon and sugar was combined in a bowl, you mumble, "Okay. 'm tired," your head buried into the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, weaponising that flour probably exhausted some energy," he muses, letting go of the wooden spoon to wrap his arms around you. "We still need to bake these, though."

"Cookie dough is yummy too," you retort, hand reaching out to pinch a piece of the dough. 

"Cookie dough isn't safe for you to eat," he answers, catching your wrist before you can get ahold of any batter. Upon seeing your pout, combined with the tired look in your eyes, he relents, letting you pick up a small piece just to eat. "How about we put this in the fridge, and we bake them tomorrow?" 

"I like that plan."

"I thought you would."

Helping him with the clean up consisted of you putting the dough in the fridge and cinnamon sugar in the pantry, and him doing... everything else. He didn't seem to mind, though, and his hands found their place on your waist as he walked you back towards the bedroom. 

"C'mon, sleepy girl."

He laughs at your incoherent grumble towards the name calling, letting you drag him back into the bed adorned with wrinkled sheets. 

"Thanks for baking with me," you say, voice layered with your exhaustion as you're curling up next to him. 

"Thanks for attacking me with flour."

"And I'd do it again."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[singemall-stayallnight]

ROBERT PLANT AND JIMMY PAGE INTERVIEWED (1994): Only the song remains

They’ve certainly seen worse than this dark oak lined bar where Sydney Harbour glitters seductively just through the panelled doors. And they’ve certainly done this whole thing before, one of them with forgivable ill-humour.

But today they are jocular, blokey and their living-legend status is resting comfortably with them.

Robert Plant exchanges a firm handshake and throws a dismissive, “New Zealand, eh? Well, at least you’re not apologising for it,” at which Jimmy Page roars with laughter and starts in about Canadians always apologising for being Canadians.

There is mutual hilarity, Robert leaves looking for a coffee, and Jimmy settles back with the air of nothing to prove – and not much to say, really.

By the time Plant returns, we’ve canvassed good places to stay in Marrakesh, illicit substances found therein and the five interviews already this morning (“and I haven’t had bloody lunch yet”). And this is day four. There’s talk of their performing on some television show tonight hosted by Andrew Denton whose previous programme closed with various people – Rolf Harris among them – doing versions of Stairway to Heaven.

Maybe you should do a Rolf song tonight, then?

“Too obvious,” pronounces an imperious Plant sweeping back into the room and challenging: “So, how’s New Zealand then? Still all getting pissed at that racetrack?”

At 47, Robert Plant is, despite some facial crumpling, an unimpressive figure: taller than expected, draped in a flowing hippie shirt, encased in crushed velvet pants, the unruly ringlets constantly pushed back over the ears and shoulders … He’s also a formidable interview subject.

While 50-year–old Page, all in faded black and languid beneath a worrying amount of seemingly windswept hair, offers anecdotes and mild laughter, Plant makes disconcertingly penetrating eye contact and is not a man to suffer fools at all – and he’s suffered a few at the previous day’s press conference.

Someone said “dinosaur,” to which he tartly rejoined, “Look, we are old blokes. But you journalists are never short of the old cliché, are you?”

Plant might well feel miffed at the reception he is occasionally given. He is a witty, well read and sharply barbed conversationalist, who will – and often enough to make for awkwardness, does – answer a question with a monosyllabic “yes” or “no” to leave interviewers despairing. He’d done it to a few over these days in Sydney where he and Page have been promoting their new album No Quarter.

There's something disconcerting about taking to Robert Plant – less so the pug-nosed, personable Jimmy Page – because here is the man who was the pivot of the sexual and pharmaceutical excess that was Led Zeppelin on tour in the 70s. The stories are legion and legendary, the girl in handcuffs, the customised jet (“Airforce One with satin sheets”), the notorious fish incident at the Edgewater Inn …

And the other stuff: Plant lost his son, drummer John Bonham died in Jimmy Page’s house, tour manager Richie Cole telling all the heroin ‘n’ harem stories in his Led Zeppelin Uncensored, the occult, Stairway to Heaven …

Plant and Page carry that with them, and it’s difficult to get your head round, especially if you have only 20 minutes – and it’s ebbing away while Plant gets a coffee.

These guys not only invented a whole genre of music but also were ambassadors of the lifestyle. They made a million when a million meant something and when a truckload of cocaine was a very big truck indeed.

Understandably these aren’t matters either warms to and even when Plant broaches such subjects himself he’s quick to shut them down. He mentions dismissively being “crowned the kings of rock tedium.”

And the crown rests uneasily?

“It’s in the bin, it’s a paper crown anyway and comes from a glossy magazine with a bloke on the cover with his tongue sticking out,” he sniffs.

Let it pass that at one time that bloke might have been him.

But settling back with a coffee on its way, he’s laughing about cricketer Geoffrey Boycott in the lobby (“still got that same bird with him with the tinsel skirt on”) and confusing Page with his reference to that racetrack in New Zealand.

“We didn’t play … oh, you and the Big Log thing” says Page, who seemingly gets considerable private humour out of Plant’s solo Big Log album/tour. “We played at Western Springs and Richie had that motorbike…”

He embarks on an enjoyable reminiscence, then is reminded of playing the Auckland Town Hall when he was in the Yardbirds, way back in the mid-60s.

“Yeah, with Roy Orbison and the Walker Brothers on the bill ,” he recalls with remarkable clarity, given the manipulation of body chemistry since then. He strikes you as a loose, likeable fellow.

You can read the rest of the interview here.

Robert Plant sports his Abdel Halim Hafez t-shirt, while Jimmy Page promotes food charity Second Harvest at their Boston Garden concert, April 9, 1995.

[chaoskull]

Adolphe Weisz - Her Favorite Pet

Devoided of Words

Lion El'Johnson x fem!reader

Summary: Lion, who is yet to learn how to speak, is conflicted with a feeling that consumes him when he sees a young woman

It itches his skin, these hides he is yet to know the name of, they drape over his limbs as if to fit perfectly, he doesn't understand their purpose yet, it must be for protection, Lion assumed as he passes through the long halls of the castle, he hasn't explored it entirely, and so, when unsupervised, he starts wandering. The only sound to be heard was of his constant strut, very far from what he was used to, as he was to be constantly aware of his surroundings when alone in the forest.

Attentive to the stillness around him, he is surprised by a quick sound, one he finally recognizes, a sniffle, someone must be irritated by the presence of the constant dust on these halls, as he is.

As he heads to investigate such noize he notices a girl, she is laying on a push couch in one of the many rooms of the place, he observes captivated by her as she seems to look at a ‘book’, whatever those were called.

He finds them irritating at the time, whenever one is brought, they only present him simple language lessons, nothing of his interest. He failed to realize the girl looked back at him, it was far too late, his eyes were locked on her own. How has he distracted himself so intensely, he questions himself.

He presents himself to the girl, who mistakes him for a man, not a beast, as he is. Luther had found him and made a human facade for the boy, but Lion was no boy to those who looked at him. He was far too tall, his hair was long, now well kept - it troubled highly the maids that tended to him, as they were afraid of their lives at each hiss and growl he'd make when they cleaned him.

She looks at him curiously, a greeting leaves her mouth and he doesn't understand what she said, can't recreate the sound in mind even as it was spoken, but he felt an urge he was to never find in the loneliness of the forest.

An urge to remain close, protect, keep, hide her from others. They don't deserve to be near her, he tells himself in his mind, she's his, he will soon devote himself to her, his hunt, his nest, or 'room' as the black hair man told him, 'room' is where to take her for now, and so he approaches.

Tentatively, she tries again, "Hello", he doesn't know how to answer, but to that he grunts as he sees the older males do when they greet each other, she seems convinced, but what she did not expect was to be lifted to his arms as he starts taking her away. She tries to escape his grasp, but he is far too strong, a look in his face of determination chills her entirely, hoping her fate was to a quick death.

Something was extremely different about this man she thinks, and she remembers the warnings of the knights, a boy found in the forest, he did not speak, nor did he know our words.

Terrified, she screams and he stops to look down at her. She is shocked to find his dark emerald eyes carving her soul out with just his gaze, he seems alert to her reaction, and so she tentatively places a hand on the side of his face and carefully moves it to the side so he stops looking at her so intensely. ‘What am I even doing?’, she thinks, panicking internally.

Confused, he does not understand such a gesture and so he moves to face her again and does the same to her. She is left baffled by his reaction, not expecting him to return it at all, as he holds her for the moment steps were heard by him, but he doesn't move, as he looks down at her mesmerized, his legs were locked in place, and so she realizes he was relishing on the fact she had touched him, and at that he saw the action as an affectionate one.

"You..." She tentatively starts, but quickly stops remembering his lack of knowledge in their language.

The interaction quickly stops as she feels hands taking her away from his hold, a knight grabbing the Lion by the scruff of his shirt drags him away as others try to get information out of her. Her ears were deaf to their words, eyes stuck on the boy as he as hit and yelled by the older men, tears start forming on her eyes as she realizes this was her fault for screaming, they had heard her, but how could she know of his true gentle nature when what he did was take her away from her place abruptly without a word, she was defenseless at the time.

She watches him attentively, the men talking to her suddenly realize she was looking at the boy, distraught by the scene, one blocks her view to finally catch her attention, he asks if the boy has done anything to her and she shakes her head, feeling as if words would betray her. Finally, he clears the commotion "Take Lion to Luther" he commands.

"Is that the boy, the one from the forest?" She asks, and the man responds with a nod and a grunt, just as the Lion did, she notes. "You are to not see him again without permission, as he will follow this rule as well", with that he turns around to accompany the others as they leave, dragging the boy with them.

As they leave, he looks back at her, there is a bruise forming on his cheek, still in shock she stays and watches until they finally turn to leave her sight, in panic she runs towards them as quietly as possible to discreetly follow.

Part 2 will come soon!

[monotonesmile]

Hiii!! Can I request a ROTTMNT x Fem!Reader Villains but there is a twist when the reader steals stuff or kidnapped someone she doesn't hurt them and she returns the stolen stuff after a week or so but she still does bad stuff, beating people up and working with older villains and holding hostels (but doesn't hurt the hostels) and the police have not to cart her yet because she just they good

And I love reading your writing it beating my day every time I read one of them:)

Rottmnt X Villain!Fem!Reader Headcanons

[Warnings: Mention of hostage situations.]

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Leo

Leo probably is the most irritating brother Y/N has to deal with, although she will absolutely find his puns hilarious. Leo is probably one of the few that can get a visceral reaction out of her from his puns. (Which makes him even more cocky than he already is)

Leo definitely doesn’t appreciate her holding people hostage, regardless of the reasoning, so he’ll always stop her, he distracts her while his brothers free everyone.

When it comes to stealing, he’s more relaxed about it, stealing is common, although he always tries to get her to return the items, and much to his surprise, the stolen items return to their stores after a few days.

As for her working with the older villains, he’s a little pouty about it because half of them tried to kill him at some point, and you’re working with them! But he treats it the same as he would to most villains, with a whole bunch of puns and quips.

I’d say it takes Leo a few months, maybe five to seven months, to catch feelings, when he notices, he becomes the most flustered person you will ever see, he is not good at dealing with actual romantic feelings towards others, so he just continues his puns and quips, but over time they’ll become more flirty and more like pickup lines.

Like I said, Leo becomes easily flustered around Y/N after realizing his feelings. His puns and quips become pickup lines, which likely makes her intrigued and she probably finds them just as funny as his puns. Leo will also start to try and reform her, which he is quite good at, surprisingly. He will also just start talking to her instead of fighting while distracting her, engaging in actual conversation instead of making jokes.

At a point, Y/N would probably realize that his pickup lines are genuinely Leo trying to flirt with her, which makes her disappear for a while, and that causes Leo to worry because she hasn’t been seen for over a week. After a week she reappears and makes sure to do a crime to only get Leo’s attention, when he arrives, Y/N would admit she knows he likes her, making Leo very blushy and nervous, yet his nerves are eliminated the moment she returns his feelings. Leo is ecstatic once she tells him, he probably hugs her and says how much a relief that is to him.

Leo, after a few months of their relationship, starts to notice how Y/N begins to turn a new leaf, slowly moving away from her villainous lifestyle and becoming something similar to an antihero, she’s still a bit more brutal than he and his brothers are when it come to fighting villains but she is now saving lives and no longer stealing/holding hostages. This makes Leo very happy, he’d probably celebrate this with a cake or something, especially on their anniversary!

Bonus! Cuddles and Churrs: Leo can be compared to a cat when it comes to cuddling, he will be holding onto you and he will be laying on you, you cannot escape him. As for his churrs, he’s pretty much the average churr, it’s low but also just pretty consistent with its rhythm, it’s a very comfortable sound to listen too,

Donnie

Donnie is probably way more tolerable to Y/N out of them all, she likely finds his intelligence interesting, usually asking him questions during their fights, which confuses him at first, thinking it was some tatic, before realizing that it was genuine questions, making him more excited to actually face off against her again.

Donnie takes the hostage situations seriously, while Leo usually distracts her, Donnie is the one that is the one getting past any security measures and releasing the hostages with Mikey.

Donnie is more curious what Y/N could be using any stolen tech for, which after the items are returned, he usually steals them to see if there were any hints or clues left behind by her. He tries to stop her (but his curiosity makes him more likely to let her get away).

Now for working with older villains, he’s confused why she even would in the first place, but again, takes it as seriously as he would while fighting their usual enemies.

Donnie takes the longest to acknowledge his romantic feelings towards Y/N, which once he realizes it, he’d likely be in denial of his feelings, not wanting to admit that he likes a criminal, but even so, he does want to learn more about her, so he slowly starts to integrate more personal questions into their fights/talks.

Donnie will act mostly the same besides moments where he will ask about Y/N’s actual life and hobbies, if you have any interest in tech or science, he might fall even harder for you. Donnie would probably talk about his own tech with her, during fights he might pause and lean against his bo staff to ask questions before continuing your fight.

Donnie probably doesn’t even give Y/N time to notice his romantic feelings as he probably made a very detailed and informative plan with multiple responses planned out, so he gets her alone and tells her about his feelings, the multiple responses running through his mind, and when he hears her return his feelings, Donnie smugly admits he knew that would likely be her answer given all the evidence he collected during their interactions, making her chuckle a bit.

Donnie after a few weeks of dating would probably start to make Y/N look in a better light, trying to make her a hero instead, but once he learns that she’s still a bit brutal, even when helping people, he settles for her being an antihero instead. Donnie would probably congratulate her for being a hero now, and likely gifted her some tech he builds so she wouldn’t have to steal anymore.

Bonus! Cuddles and Churrs: Donnie is definitely not the most touchy type, but he doesn’t mind you sitting near him in his lab, and if you manage to get him to sleep, he, like his twin, will be holding onto you like a lifeline. Now Donnie’s churrs are pretty normal too, they’re a bit more higher in pitch but sometimes when he exhales while churring he ends up hissing, which embarrasses him a lot.

Raph

Raph is one Y/N is neutral about, Raph wants her to stop her crimes and instead help people with her skills, but she won’t, she’s far too stubborn to listen, yet Raph is also just as, if not more, stubborn, and will scold her like he does with his brothers.

Raph is the one that takes almost every crime she commits seriously, no matter what happens, if Y/N gets past Leo, she’s usually faced against Raph afterwards, and he doesn’t go easy on her, he’s the main reason any hostage plans fail, because she can’t physically beat him in hand to hand combat.

Raph will, once again, scold her on why stealing is wrong if he catches her in the act, blocking her exit while crossing his arms. He does feel a bit happy when he discovers that she returns the items after a few days, still thinking she can do good.

Although he does think her dynamic with the older villains is kinda like a family dynamic, which he does end up asking about during one of their fights, which unfortunately she doesn’t give much of an answer, but he still wants to know, so he keeps asking.

Raph is the most accepting of his own feelings towards Y/N, mainly because I believe Raph thinks you can’t exactly control what your heart wants, but regardless, he treats her about the same but he’s more gentle in their fights and his scoldings. Raph doesn’t know how to express these feelings without just getting softer towards her.

Raph becomes softer towards Y/N, his scoldings become less harsh and more gentle, like he’s afraid of hurting her with words, just as he’s afraid to hurt her in fights, which he will now try to avoid if he can, it doesn’t feel right to him to fight the person he loves. If you end up in close proximity with him though, he becomes very stiff and red in the face, Raph can deal with many things…except his crush being very close to him.

Raph is the most obvious with his feelings as he quite literally says “I’m not going to fight someone I love.” to Y/N at a point, it did make her pause for a moment but Raph deflected everything by focusing back on scolding her in that moment, despite the blush on his face. So Y/N would know about his feelings for a while before she finally manages to get him to stop for a second so she can tell him that she feels the same, which made Raph surprised and he asked if she was being serious, and once she confirmed he wanted nothing more than to just bearhug her, and he did. She was very squished by Raph in that hug.

Raph would be over the moon about Y/N now fighting by his side and not against him. He’d be quick to notice her no longer committing crimes, having kept track of her villainous activities, and after noticing that she hadn’t stolen anything in over a month, he’d ask about it and she’d tell him that she’s trying to become better, like he always believed she could be.

Bonus! Cuddles and Churrs: If you’re cuddling with Raph, you’re likely laying next to each other or you are laying on top of him, Raph is very nervous when it comes to cuddling because of his size, so he always makes sure to be careful, although he does love being the big spoon so he can hold you. Raph’s churrs are practically rumbling growls, he’s very large and very loud, it’s like a jet engine, he probably ends up shaking you slightly from just his churring alone, especially if he’s holding you.

———————————————————————————

[Request are open!!]

[hopelessdelusional]

matt sturniolo x influencer! reader

reader is grunge! a singer! and on social media (this is very niche i apologize) i will be building this AU more so stay tuned!

｡･:*˚:✧

hey so i’ve hyper fixated onto an CIS. STRAIGHT. WHITE. BOY. someone put me down i cannot do this anymore please this is a cry for help needs to euthanize me-

｡･:*˚:✧

enjoy ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ᗜ^)

join the taglist

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ homebase

to start, you have been close friends with jake for a long time, and thru him you met tara and johnny before meeting the triplets

jake pretty much always has you in his videos, so much so whenever you aren't in a video the fans have started to request for your presence on videos that don't have you in them

you're not all that active on social media, only posting random covers of your favorite songs on your youtube channel and random tiktoks

in jake's videos you are always making him laugh, and out of the two you're more calm with a dry sense of humor

'...do you like it?"

"yeah because me immediately spitting it out and chugging my drink after eating it obviously shows how much i love this fucking candy"

OR

"hey jake did you want to get dinner tonight-"

"..."

"why the fuck is johnny in a baby costume."

in tara's videos you and her literally talk for HOURS and the way tara could make four separate videos from one recorded hang out is ridiculous

with Carrington the two of you easily match each other's energy, always giggling in the back of videos

you've also done singing collabs with jake and johnny! there are a couple of songs that just have your background vocals and then others with actual verses

you haven't released any songs though due to stress and anxiety, feeling too pressured to write the

"perfect" song so you settle with being a feature

besides that you really just mind your business with college, your job, and hanging out with friends

tara was actually the one who introduced you to nick

and through nick….you met matt

.・。.・✭・.・✫・゜・。.

matt who was excited to meet nick’s new friend who he was talking abt nonstop

“hey guys! yn is here!”

nick swings the door wide open, smiling widely as he stomps in the house. you follow in quickly, nervous to meet nick’s brothers. your friendship with nick came naturally, having many things to connect with. that being said, you weren’t sure if you could create a relationship with his brothers as easily as you did with him.

fiddling with your clothes you wave politely at the boys, surprised to see both of them walk up to you and hug you. granted it was swift hugs, but it immediately created a softer environment, causing you to relax immensely.

matt who immediately noticed how you looked uncomfortable and took the first step to hug you

“i like your outfit,” matt said after chris broke away from you. he gave you a small smile, making you smile in return. before you could respond however, chris started talking to the group.

nick had already decided on having dinner at home, so you settled in leaning on the kitchen island watching nick and chris argue over what to make for dinner. matt walks over to you, putting his hands in his pockets.

“don’t worry i could never replace you guys,” you tease, when you see him across from you. he giggles in reaponse, his eyes never leaving your face.

“cool tattoos,” he points out which surprised you. looking down at your arm, you smiled admiring the work you’ve gotten done over the years.

“thank you! you also have some gnarly tats.”

matt smiled at you, flexing his arm a little bit to show off his whole sleeve.

“is that the only place you have tattoos?” you question, suddenly curious about his body art. matt nodded, then looked at you with a small smile.

“does that mean you have more?” the question made you laugh because he seemed almost shy asking you, so when you nodded enthusiastically and started to give him a quick tour all over your body. lifting your shirt up was funny for you, because you could tell matt wanted to be thoughtful and not look but when you reassured him he hesitated at first but eventually awed at them. his reactions were so lively, making you appreciate how focused and compassionate. he praised you for your own ideas and for the tattoos that meant something, and still thought your random and silly tattoos were interesting.

after you finished showing him you were practically gleaming, it had been a while since you had been able to speak so much of the tattoos that littered your body. every single one of them had meant so much to you and being able to share that with someone; especially someone as excited and appreciative as you are.

“you’re really cool, i can see why nick enjoys hanging out with you so much.”

you and matt were sitting down in the living room now, leaving chris and nick to prepare dinner for the evening. talking came easily after the tour of your tattoos, matt showing you his and the conversation flowed better than you dreamed it to be.

you chuckled at matt’s comment, finding his eye contact was making you squirmish in your seat.

“nick is so much cooler than me, but i don’t mind i really enjoy being friends with him. plus now i have two new friends so that’s a bonus.”

matt laughed at your response, running a hand through his hair now avoiding eye contact with you.

“yeah, i’m grateful nick brought you around.”

matt who couldn’t take his eyes off of you for the rest of the evening, which did not go unnoticed by his brothers

“don’t steal my new best friend from me matt!” nick yelled out dramatically after yn left, making matt shake his head.

“you should let matt have their number,” chris mumbled, still focused on the game he was playing. nick gasped dramatically before agreeing, making the boys laugh with how quickly he switched up his emotions.

“just don’t steal them!” nick threatened, but matt was already too excited to text you to listen.

matt who got your number and could not stop texting you, and he especially couldn’t stop smiling every time you texted him back

“matt i need backup,” chris said frantically, his eyes glued to the computer and fingers moving at the speed of light on the controllers. when matt doesn’t respond, chris huffs and repeats himself.

“matt seriously dude where the fuck are you?!”

matt finishes up typing and looks up, oblivious to the game that they were losing.

“oh shit,” he mumbled, putting his phone down and picking his controller back up.

“you weren’t even playing?” chris yelled out, frustrated with their status. nick pipes up from the bed, suddenly curious. he peaks his head over and sees matt’s phone light up, watching matt immediately lose his focus to look at his phone. matt straightens up, wanting to reach for his phone before chris cursed loudly, drawing his attention away from the text. nick squints, thankful that he was wearing his glasses and sees the name on his phone to his disbelief. yn sent a text, then another one, and then another one. his jaw dropped, and his gasp was so loud it startled his brothers.

“nick! oh my god,” chris started to laugh when his fear settled down. nick still had his mouth wide open, only causing chris to laugh harder.

“you’re gonna catch flies kid,” matt snickered. nick slowly turned his head to matt, mouth still open, in a very dramatic motion.

“yn? you stole my best friend?”

matt froze, a slow blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks. chris eyed his brothers from his peripheral vision, jaw also dropping.

“that’s why you’ve been so preoccupied? damn my boy has a crush,” chris started to chuckle, causing nick to scream and matt to drop his controller covering his face in embarrassment.

matt who gets jealous whenever you and nick go out like he wants to hang out with u too :(

matt who finally gets the nerve to ask you to hang out with him, after nick decides he’s had enough of matt complaining about how “you never invite me-or chris!” (he has to add the chris part to not sound too obvious)

matt stood nervously at the door, fiddling with his keys in his hands. he finally knocked, immediately hearing rummaging around behind the door. matt couldn’t help but smile, wondering what you were doing right now. were you just as nervous to hang out with him one on one?

suddenly, the door swings wide open, and you’re in the doorway smilingly widely.

“hey! come in!”

matt who had so much fun hanging out with you.

the two of you went to antiques and thrift stores, grabbed some dinner and went back to your place to spend the rest of the evening together. the two of you got along so well he ended up staying until 12AM because you wanted to finish watching the show you started, not that matt was complaining. he was tempted to ask to stay over (and you were tempted to ask him to stay over) but he didn’t want things to be awkward. so he left late into the night, after you gave him a tackling hug, asking to hang out again soon

matt who started to call you every night, and although you two texted all day you never ran out of things to talk about.

matt who is really starting to fall for you

.・。.・✭・.・✫・゜・。.

k bye ily🩶

[unfriendlies]

completely caught off guard, garam let out a soft yelp when angel had picked him up to hold him in his arms instead of on his back. he was quick to wrap one arm behind the man's shoulders while the other hand held on tightly to the opposing shoulder to ensure he wouldn't fall even if angel lost his grip. his brows furrowed, just staring at angel. he was so strong. another thing garam couldn't recall his now ex-boyfriend doing; carrying him, regardless of position. it was always something his friends did. when asked, his ex would tell garam his legs still worked so he could walk himself wherever they were going. he was starting to really question what he ever saw in the other man, he was probably the least romantic partner garam had ever had. if he was going to be completely honest, angel was far more romantic towards garam than his ex was. that fact made his expression soften, a small smile growing. "i'm not that skinny," he said softly, pulling his hand up to the curve of angel's neck. his weight was never something he worried about before because he ate relatively healthily but he had noticed he lost weight recently which he could now blame on his relationship. after being dropped down onto angel's bed, he let go of the blanket and shifted so his head was on one of the pillows. when he was asked about his preferences, his expression fell once again. it wasn't because he didn't want to talk about it, he just wasn't expecting angel to want to know. he was quiet, not because he didn't want to talk about it but because he was silently questioning why angel wanted to know. was it because he was worried? that was the only reason that made sense. the only other thing he could think of was angel was asking because he wanted to have sex with garam but that didn't seem plausible at all. he was sure that angel would have made some sort of attempt to flirt with him, hit on him, something to let garam know he wanted something more from him. but angel didn't do that, at least garam didn't catch on if angel had made some sort of move. garam exhaled heavily as he threw his arms up over his head, unintentionally making his shirt rise, revealing his lower stomach and the bruises his ex left on him. "sometimes it's okay." he replied, staring up at the ceiling. "i really didn't like it at first but..." he paused, making an attempt to shrug his shoulders, but the gesture was a bit difficult to do with his hands above his head. "i got used to it." he added in, glancing over to angel with just his eyes but he was quick to return his gaze up to the ceiling. "there were some things that i liked but not when it happened all the time. i think i like it better when somebody is more gentle with me. like, they're afraid if they push too hard, i'll break." maybe break wasn't the most accurate term to use, it was more like he didn't want somebody who wanted to hurt him. "i think i want softer passion. not so fast, not so hard... but i still want to feel his emotions when we're together... if that—" his full attention turned to angel, "does that make sense? i want to feel like i'm the only person in his life that matters, i want to be able to see his love for me when i look at him... i want to feel like i'm more than just a piece of ass, you know? i think that's what i want." he couldn't even say for sure, it was just that soft and passionate were the complete opposite of what his ex showed him whenever they were intimate. their intimacy lacked all intimacy. the man focused on what would feel good for him instead of garam, he never felt love when they were together. it felt like it was purely physical between them. but maybe explaining as much as he had was a bit of an overshare. even if angel asked, garam didn't have to go into the kind of detail he did. "you don't have to worry, i'm not going to let somebody treat me like that again. and i'll make sure whoever i eventually get involves with has your stamp of approval, you seem to know who isn't good for me better than i do..."

Garam’s nod as confirmation was all Angel needed. He stood quietly as he watched his best friend grab his phone. The taller man watched the other’s facial expressions closely before realizing the alcohol was beginning to affect him. A shiver rippled through his spine seeing Garam’s ex crying face on the screen. His lips were pulled tight as his eyes shot down. Angel thought seeing the man crying would bring him joy. He was getting back just a fraction of what he put them through. But it only made his stomach turn. His skin felt itchy and gross. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Let him suffer” he managed out glancing back up only to catch Garam texting his ex. Angel raised an eyebrow as Garam giggled which must have been contagious. The raven-haired man smiled offering a small giggle back. It was great to hear his friend laugh again. The screen was flashed to him once again. This time he didn’t look away. Scanning the text Angel let out a sharp breath. That text wouldn’t go over well but Angel couldn’t worry about that right then. “Take me to bed” Such a small sentence stopped Angel in his tracks. It wasn’t like the man hadn’t said it before. Angel had gotten used to carrying drunk Garam through the streets to either of their apartments. It was the way the man looked at him for a moment. His arms stretched out ready to be lifted. It took the man a minute to compose himself. Finding the whole scene rather adorable. “You are such a child” he teased to break the silence as he scooped his best friend up into his arms bridal style. “Easier to carry you this way…while you are staying here we are going to get some food in your system. You have never been this light” Angel commented as he guided them to his bedroom. As they made their way through his apartment he couldn’t help but think about Garam’s past relationships. They seemed to get worse with each one. Angel always kept his feelings silent. Watching each relationship pass by. It killed him his best friend hid so much of what was going on. Angel never judged him or so he didn’t think he did. But for sex to be that violent and their argument to lead to this. Angel couldn’t wrap his head around his best friend enjoying that. The grip he had on Garam tightened as they entered the bedroom. He was starting to feel the effects of their drinks but kept his composure. His focus was on making sure the man in his arms was okay. Angel stumbled lightly managing to get his best friend to the bed with a slight thump. He chuckled tucking his curls behind his ears as he sat on the edge of the bed. The question he wanted to ask hanging on the edge of his tongue. Even drunk he didn’t think this was the best time. But he knew he wouldn’t have the nerve to ask any other way. Besides the other was drunk as well. It made it easier somehow. “Garam?” Angel would never ask questions like this sober. He didn’t pry in such ways. He knew his best friend was private. The same way he was. “Do you really enjoy rough sex like that?” His words were slow, almost careful. To ensure he was saying the right thing. His eyes avoided his best friend. Angel looked down at his hands which he had been biting at out of habit as he waited for his answer. His feelings for Garam were festering inside him. In his drunken state, he was thinking he could never live up to that. He couldn’t see himself hurting Garam in any way. As he sat there the guilt of the question started to sink in. “Y-you don’t have to answer that. Sorry…these damn drinks” he muttered picking his head up and flashing one of his smiles.

[clonewarsahsoka]

Ummmmm the guy I think is cute started a conversation with me unprompted today

[wintergrofyuri]

"(blank) hates laios!" WRONG WRONG WRONG. SHUT THE FUCK UP

shuro is just as awkward as laios and it is made So clear he considers him a friend and likes him. he defends him when the canaries start talking shit and actively readies himself to physically fight them so they dont get to him.

namari also likes laios. she respects him as a leader and also defends him and readies to fight the canaries.

ive not actually seen anyone claim izutsumi hates laios, but a lot of ppl Are weird abt them. izutsumi and laios' relationship was rocky at the beginning. he struggled to figure out how to interact with her. but by the end, she actively seeks him out to talk with during the lead up to the feast. she hides behind him when falin wakes up. she has already realized shecan do what she wants and does not need to stick around, yet she does. she sleeps near him on the windowsill, waiting with him and marcille for falin to wake up. she has accepted him as part of her life and wants to keep him in it.

marcille does not hate laios. let me say this again.

Marcille Donato Does Not Hate Laios Touden.

marcille Loves him. in a platonic, familial sense. laios returns this just as readily. she yells at him. she whacks him. she tells him whats on her mind. she uses healing magic to ease his pain during the parasite fiasco. she reattaches his leg when he loses it. she teaches him magic. she lays her head on his corpse and cries before reviving him. she launches herself at him two times, when the canaries interrogate them and when he talks her down in the tower. he is a comforting presence to her. she trusts him, she cares about him, she worries about him, she imagines him as a big fluffy dog that loves and protects her. laios is her rock when falin is taken from them time and time again. and she tries to be his as well. she whole-heartedly, unconditionally, loves and trusts laios.

chilchuck does not hate laios. laios pays him his rates, no questions asked. laios trusts and respects chilchuck's job as a lockpick. laios does not see him as a child (at least, i cant think of an instance where he does so). chilchuck states, outright, he sees him as a friend and doesnt want to see him hurt. he actively worries about him as the falin situation gets worse. chilchuck respects laios. he shows almost 0 hesitation in helping get falin back, nor eating her by the end. he does not think of leaving him once, until he realizes he could lose him. chilchuck is cowardly with emotions and prefers to bottle things, so his first instinct was to bolt. he was angry because he was scared of watching someone he cares about destroy himself. laios is his Friend.

and holy shit. holy Fucking shit. kabru DOES NOT hate laios. kabru has the rockiest start known to man with him, and he Still helps him by occupying the canaries. he warns him about them. he hides the black magic from them just as shuro does. his whole Thing is trusting laios despite himself. kabru has his own baggage regarding other people, just like laios, yet he tries so hard to believe and trust this man. he Wants to. kabru is not very hopeful, but laios makes him Want to be. he states like 3 times he wants to be close to him and sees him as a friend. he stays through the entire feast!! the man who hates monsters, whose biggest trigger is monsters, actively, consciously, Willingly stayed through the entire monster meat feast. all to help his friend get his sister back. he could've left!! the feast was like an entire week!! yet he was there for every single day. he was one of the closest people to the door when falin awoke!! after reuniting with her brother, her friends, the people who knew her the most (plus senshi and izutsumi), the first person she greets is kabru!! he wants to be close to laios, he likes laios, laios is his friend and he cares for him, he wants to meet his sister!!! kabru fucking stays on the island with him as one of his closest, most trusted advisors when he becomes king!!!!! he wants to help him succeed!!!! he wants him to be happy!!!! laios is his friend!!!!!!!!

im just. people like laios!! laios is a nice guy! he is friendly and cares about people! he is weird, he doesn't understand most social cues, he oversteps boundaries, but they stay beside him, because they like him and he is their friend. he is their friend!!!!! friendship is not all sunshine and rainbows, relationships in general are not sunshine and rainbows. you will upset people, people will upset you, you will get into arguments, things will happen, but at the end of the day, the people close to you like you! they love you! they care for you! they want to work it out and get through it because they love you, but they will feel those emotions first! human relationships are complex and messy and life is complicated. even shows for toddlers know this.

if you truly believe any of these characters hate laios you are worse than a toddler. watch some fucking oobi or something. god. fuck.

take this

thanks

[nikkento-writes]

It starts with a distasteful joke from Gojo. "I bet Nanami's pretty vanilla in bed, am I right?" He nudges you playfully as he sips on his lychee mocktail in the restaurant. Your boyfriend excused himself to use the bathroom and Ieiri went out for a smoke, leaving you alone with Gojo, who you met for the first time just a little over an hour ago.

You're shocked that he'd even ask such a personal question, especially since your relationship with Nanami is still four-months fresh. Unsure how to respond, you simply laugh, not answering. When he continues to stare at you through his blindfold, your smile falters. "You're being serious?"

He smirks, clearly egging you on. "I just can't imagine our little strait-laced salary man being very fun in the sack. No offense."

You're torn between changing the subject all together into something less inappropriate and defending your lover's honor. And unfortunately for you, as the anger inside you begins to bubble at Gojo's tactless words, you choose the latter. "If you must know, he's very, very fun in the sack." You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. 

He shrugs, the shit-eating grin still on his face. "I just can't see it. But as long as you're satisfied, that's all that matters."

"I am very satisfied, thank you very much!" you emphasize, cheeks hot now, annoyed. Before you explode on him, Nanami and Ieiri return, so you try to contain your rage as much as possible throughout the rest of dinner.

You intend to keep his outrageous comments to yourself, not wanting to start any unnecessary drama, especially with Nanami who is above this type of ridiculousness. But remembering Gojo's smug expression makes you irate all over again. That night, while you're cuddling with Nanami, you share the story. "So, Gojo said something funny to me while you were in the bathroom." As you recount the short conversation from earlier, you keep it light-hearted, laughing about it as if it doesn't grind your gears (which it does). In all honestly, your sex life with Nanami is amazing, and while it's nobody's business but your own, you can't help being bothered that certain people think otherwise. 

When you're done, Nanami doesn't respond right away, processing it all before he speaks. "Interesting." His voice is steady, though you can sense a hint of annoyance in his tone. "He's an idiot," he adds, holding you closer, grazing his lips on your forehead. 

You giggle, snuggling into his chest. "I know."

"But...you are satisfied, right?"

The waver of uncertainty in his voice breaks your heart and you almost regret telling him. "Of course I am! You know I am!" you answer confidently, peering up at him.

He kisses your forehead. "You promise?"

Grabbing both his cheeks, you smooch him on the lips. "I promise."

Gentle kisses soon turn into sloppy ones as Nanami rolls on top of you, surrounding you in his strong and muscular body. It happens quickly; the blanket is shrugged off, clothes are stripped and scattered on the floor, your legs are spread wide for him as he eats you out voraciously, proving how much fun he can be in bed. He makes you orgasm twice like this, getting it nice and wet for his hard cock, throbbing in his fist as he strokes it. “Ride me,” he demands, laying on his back, licking his lips while you mount him.

You oblige, sinking down on his cock slowly, adjusting to his size. “Fuck, Kento,” you whine, wiggling on his lap until he bottoms out.

“Feels good, huh sweetheart?” He traces your mouth with his thumb, teasing it.

“Yes. So fucking good.” You suck on his fingers, rocking back and forth on his lap. 

He fucks you like this, his feet planted on the bed, bucking his hips up into you at a steady pace. Suddenly, his phone rings, interrupting for a moment. He glances at it, his expression tensing, showing you the name displayed on the screen: Gojo Satoru.

"Answer it," you say, grinding on him with a wicked smile on your face. "Prove him wrong."

For a split-second, he looks at you like you're crazy. But something in him snaps, probably the same thing that made you so angry earlier. Sometimes, you just want to prove yourself right. 

He picks up the phone, putting it on speaker. Gojo's voice rings out. "Nanami, I feel terrible. I said some inappropriate things to your girl - "

"Fuck me, Kento," you whine, bouncing on his lap as he thrusts up into you faster, entire body hot and electric with pleasure. 

Nanami has the phone in one hand and the other that was just in your mouth playing with your clit now. Through labored breaths, he says, "Sorry Gojo, I'm a bit busy being an absolute bore in bed. Isn't that right, kitten?" 

He holds the phone closer to you while you moan your boyfriend's name, your third climax of the night approaching quickly. "Kento, Kento, fuck me Kento!”

Satisfied, Nanami sets the phone down on the bed, gripping your hips to pound up into you, the squelching of his cock pummeling into your wet cunt so erotic and lewd. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Gonna breed this slutty little pussy.” Over the edge now, he shoots his load inside you, letting out his own husky moans. He hastily lifts you off him to eat you out one last time, his cum leaking down from your cunt onto his chin as he sucks on your swollen clit until you come on his face, moaning obscenities incessantly. Completely spent now, you pull off him to cuddle, kissing each other messily as you both come down from your high. 

"Ahem." Gojo's voice startles you as you realize that neither he nor Nanami bothered to hang up the call. Horrified, the two of you wait with bated breath for his response, noting the suggestive ruffling in the background. "I apologize. I stand corrected."

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: implied noncon, yandere

fem reader

The way Gojo Senpai is so obnoxious, he doesn’t understand his flirting is making you uncomfortable…

He seriously thinks he’s making you fall head over heels in love with him even when you give him nothing in return to make him think that. He just thinks you’re embarrassed and nervous, flustered by his attention, and that’s the reason you divert your gaze and bite your lip when he has you against the lockers, leaning on his hand with his shades gliding low on his nose—telling you that you have no shot becoming a sorcerer, but that you look too cute in the uniform not to give it your best try. 

“Don’t worry, just say my name, and I’ll come save you,” he’ll say. “You can be my personal assistant supervisor instead.” 

His game isn’t anything to brag about. It's more in line with bullying than flirting, but you pick up on the suggestiveness. That heated saccharine look within his blue eyes can only mean one thing if the way he plays with your hair isn’t enough of a hint already.

But his words are nothing short of derogatory, and all in all, he simply makes you feel gross—a sentiment you thought you put across, but it seems that having six eyes only makes you blind.

It takes Shoko telling him to leave the poor Kohai alone for him to finally understand that you don’t like him. And then he’s just confused and embarrassed.

And a tinge bit irritated.

Gojo knows for a fact he could make any girl want him. Even those who seem to hate him would melt if he gave them the same attention he’s been giving you. Any girl. He could have any girl, but he chose you. And you reject him?

No. He can’t accept that.

“Most girls would be grateful for my attention,” He states plainly after having tracked you down.

Your head snapped, jolting. “Gojo Senpai—” You dropped the mop in your hands with a clatter, having been deep in your own thoughts on classroom cleaning duty. You sighed as the scare settled, giving a breathy laugh, “You scared me—”

“Is that it?” he interrupted. “I scare you?”

You quirked a brow with a tilt of your head. “What?”

“Do I scare you?” he repeated, louder, posted on the threshold in a stance you’d never seen him in—stiff and squared, not his usual lazy laidbackness.

Confused, your eyes looked around as if searching for clues but came up emptyhanded, “Uhm, I don’t understand—”

“It’s a simple question,” he said, cutting you off again, this time with a step into the classroom. He talked slowly, cradling the next words, “Are you scared of me?”

Where it all came from, you hadn’t a clue. But then again, Gojo Senpai has always been rather strange. 

Were you scared of him? It’s not really something you’ve ever thought about. Sure, if you were to go one versus one with him, you’d probably piss yourself. But in a regular setting, you just found him to be as grating as the next person.

“I don’t think so?” you end up answering.

“Good. So what is it then?” His shades were low enough for his stare to skim over. Brighter than clear skies, and yet, somehow, so dark. “Why don’t you like me.”

Oh, so he’s figured it out on his own then. It’s about time. And thank fuck for it—saves you the trouble of breaking it to him yourself. Though you were still left with the unfair task of telling him why.

“Honestly, Gojo Senpai, I’m not, or well… you’re just not my type.”

Stick to the basics, is what you told yourself. There’s no need to drag this out.

“Yeah, I figured. I’m asking why,” he countered, in complete disagreement with your thought.

Still, you wanted to fight for it. “Does it really matter?”

“Yes.”

This conversation was the last thing you wanted, but it seemed the white-haired prodigy wouldn’t leave without having it.

“Well…” you started, still pondering. Maybe he’d appreciate the honesty? He’s a rather straightforward guy himself. “I mean, there’s no way you don’t already know this, but—” You picked up the broom again mid-sentence. “You’re really obnoxious.”

He took a small second before he scoffed, “So? No one else cares.”

It reminded you of arguing with someone half your age—the petty anger in an ill-thought-through comment slung at you as if it carried all the weight in the world. But what everyone else thought of him hadn’t anything to do with you—and even so, out of the people on campus, you’re certain you’re not the only one who finds his attitude unpleasant—they just don’t tell it to his face. 

You had half the mind to tell him to go get a grip, but he was still your Senpai.

“Good for you, I guess?” You weren’t really looking to fight with him, after all. “So you can flirt with literally anyone else then,” you dismiss him and go back to finish cleaning the classroom—glad to have put it all behind you. You were starting to fear he’d never leave you alone.

There’s a woosh, then the hard thunk of your back hitting the wall. Both your upper arms are gripped tight, pinned. When you open your eyes again after adjusting to the impact, you look straight up into the full view of two crisp comet blues.

“You’re mighty rude for a Kohai. You know that?”

Your head stings. You blink crookedly.

“Senpai—”

“Maybe I’ve misjudged you. D’you have anythin’ for show to back that attitude up?” It’s eerie how he says it in the same flirty fashion he would otherwise—even the look in his eyes are the same. But his grip tightens.

“I don’t want to fight—”

“No?” he cuts you off with a pout. “I could've sworn you were asking for it—all but begging for it a second ago.”

You whimper, cowering at the sudden bite in his voice.

“What’s the matter, huh? I thought you said you weren’t scared?”

Your voice comes out weak, “Please, Gojo Senpai, I—”

“Please?” he questions brightly, eyes stark and burning like a stovetop. “Yeah, that’s got a nicer ring to it—suits you better.” The smile that splits across his face is nothing short of unhinged. “But it’s not enough for me to let your disrespect slide.” He licks his lips, and a chill runs up your spine, feeling like caught prey. “Lucky you, I know exactly what price to put on it.”

His mouth devour yours the same way—pouncing like a beast would, with teeth more than lips, then a tongue. You whine as you twist—it’s more instinctive than deliberate when your knee shoots up into the unprotected space between his legs—right into that thing that was rubbing and rutting against you.

You make a run for it as he staggers back with a hiss, but you don’t make it farther than three measly steps before you’re bent over the closest desk.

His fist wrangles your hair, using it to shove you face-down against the wood—the weight of his body on top of your back with his voice raspy against your ear. “We could’ve left this with a kiss, but I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy now.”

Tears spill hotly in a panic, but no matter how much strength you put into lifting yourself up, you remain down. Sobbing, “Let go—help—”

He snickers with a hand under your skirt, spidering delicately up your thigh. “Who’re you callin’ for help, hm? I’m already here.”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[sagi-tori-ous]

Simon Riley aka Ghost has returned home from work— his muscles sore and fingers cramped from the drills he had to teach the subordinates. It's not unusual, more so common than not seeing his position. He was passionate about his job, you could tell the way Simon Riley put his all into it, day in and day out.

Yet, that wasn't the only thing he was passionate about...nor was it the only thing he put his all into.

"f-fuck~" you moan out, hands slipping on the smooth marble counter, fingers scratching at the surface as your pushed forward. An ache settling in your mid abdomen from the counter being pressed against it.

"mhm..." Ghost groans, palming your right ass cheek before delivering a loud smack to it, "just like that," he encourages whilst his hips slam against your backside, slithering the same hand up to encircle your engorged hips, "take it just like that."

The deep velvety tone of his voice does nothing to help the slick trail dampening your inner thighs and lubricating you where you needed it the most.

With each push and pull you could feel the knot in your stomach growing— the pressure building up is unbearable in the best way.

You lean on your pointed toes, driving yourself farther up the counter in an attempt to put some distance between you and the pleasure.

"too much.." You whimper when your stomach starts to cave and your legs start to shake.

Ghost is quick to grab the back of your neck, pulling you back until you settle against his chest.

clicking his tongue, "you were doing so good." You hear him mumble closely to your right ear, lips brushing against your lobe "you want me to stop?" He questions rhetorically, settling into a slower pace.

"No!" You shake your head hastily—you never wanted him to stop—you try to push your pelvis back against his throbbing cock but the hand on your hip halts your movements.

A tremble sets into your body as you feel him pull all the way out until your pussy could only flutter against the tip.

"No?" He questions, circling the hand on the back of your neck to the front, grasping it firmly and angling your face towards his, "but you said too much." He teases, easing only a portion of his cock into your sopping cunt.

A chill slides down your spine at his dark unwavering gaze, "don't stop." You whine, desperation painting your face.

Ghost looks at you expectantly— he wasn't one to give commands to, if you wanted something you had to ask, or beg.

"please!" Your ass impatiently wiggles against his lower half but you couldn't back up enough to get what you craved, "please, I'm sorry! Please don't stop!" You beg him shamelessly, apologizing without reason.

Your body suddenly lurches forward, breath catching in your throat as he impales you with his cock, a groan leaving his lips as your cunt greedily welcomes him back.

"Then stop running."

𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: @deunmiu-dessie (I'm taking my ass to sleep friend but I owed you🩵)

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫/𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫: @cafekitsune @pwixi

[veltana]

Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader

✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).

✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️

Masterlist | AO3

The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."

Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.

Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.

Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.

When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.

When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.

You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”

"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.

"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.

"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.

"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.

"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.

"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."

You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.

You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.

After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.

It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.

You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.

"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”

"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”

"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."

Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.

Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.

"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.

"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.

You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.

"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"

He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."

He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.

Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.

It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.

When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."

You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.

The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.

Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.

"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.

He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.

"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.

Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.

"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.

“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.

"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.

He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."

It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.

"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."

You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.

Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.

"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.

His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.

"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"

The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.

When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.

When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.

Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."

A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed

[kissitbttr]

miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude

-

“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”

miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.

does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.

“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.

the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,

he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,

God, you’re such a perfection.

“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”

Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.

“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,

rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,

“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”

he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips

you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.

“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,

“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,

your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”

he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.

his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”

“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,

giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,

Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”

“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”

he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”

“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.

“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.

turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”

his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,

“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing

and they say romance is dead.

-

cake testing with miggy!

[fastandcarlos]

Padel Queen : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: when max suggests couples padel with george and carmen, he worries about how good you'll be, little does he know though what a master of padel you are

“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” Max asked you one final time as you took the racket that he offered out of his hands. “It’s not too late for us to say no,” he reminded you, anxious eyes watching as you stood yourself up.

You looked the part, but playing the part? You weren’t too sure. When Carmen and George invited you for a game of padel you were keen to find out more about the game that Max seemed to love so much, but now that you were there, your confidence had diminished.

The noise of rackets hitting the ball continually made you jump as you put your trainers on, the speed that some of the balls were struck made you flinch in fear, and the groans of effort that echoed left you questioning how athletic you really were.

“I’ve got this!” You cheered, nudging against Max’s side, refusing to let him see just how nervous you were.

The two of you walked onto the court, picking the side you’d serve from whilst George and Carmen finished getting themselves ready. Max walked across and picked up one of the balls, taking you to the baseline at the back of the court.

“I’m going to teach you how to serve so you’re an expert in the game,” he informed you, turning you so that you were facing the right way.

You allowed Max to guide you, listening closely to his instructions, copying his movements whenever he demonstrated, constantly reminding you that he was an expert of padel.

The first time you served, you just managed to get the ball over the net, watching it bounce dejectedly on the other side of the court.

“How was that?” You grinned, spinning to face Max, his expression not matching your own. “What? What did I do wrong?”

Max scratched nervously over the top of his head, feeling his heart break as he saw how excited you were before him. “Well…you got it over the net, that’s a start.”

You could tell Max was trying to be kind as he went to fetch the ball, handing it back to you again. You stood sideways, like he said, body facing where you wanted to aim, like he said, arm holding the ball out, like he said. But Max wasn’t happy yet. The feeling of a figure right behind you made your body tense up as Max held his hands over both of yours.

“Let’s do it together,” he whispered, getting you to throw the ball up, swinging the racket back. You let Max guide you as the racket hit the ball, watching it go over the net with plenty more power the second time around. “And make sure you follow through with your swing too.”

The two of you practised a few more times before George and Carmen stepped onto the court. Max jogged over to you as you got yourself ready, draping his arm across your shoulders.

“We can beat these two easily,” he joked, trying his best to lighten your mood and fill you with confidence, “serve like I taught you and we’ll be just fine.”

You nodded in reply as George shouted for you to hurry up, taking your positions on the court. Whilst you and Carmen both stood relaxed, George and Max both looked up for the battle, determined to beat each other and earn themselves bragging rights.

George passed the ball to Carmen to start your game off, with Max easily reaching the serve and returning the ball. You found yourself a little lost on the court as Max raced around, almost forgetting as if you were there most of the time. After a bit of back and forth, mostly between the boys, Max lobbed the ball just over Carmen’s head giving you the point.

“That was perfect,” Max cheered as he turned around to approach you, offering his fist for you to fist bump.

You couldn’t help but admire the sudden competitiveness that appeared in Max, it didn’t matter if he was in a car, on the court, or just getting into the car with you, he wanted to be first no matter what.

“It’s your turn to serve now,” Max told you, placing the ball on your racket, “just remember what I told you and you’ll be just fine.”

You took the ball as Max offered you a reassuring smile, turning your body so that you were facing George. You could be forgiven for thinking he was a professional with how he stood, leaving you intimidated opposite him.

You remembered Max’s words as you swung the racket back, throwing the ball up into the air. You took a deep breath before swinging the racket forwards, watching on as the ball flew across the net, leaving a dumfounded George swinging and missing to return your serve.

“What the-“

“Babe! Where did that come from?”

George was frozen to the spot, feeling Carmen’s eyes on him. Meanwhile, Max ran over to you, wrapping his arms around your frame and twirling you around in the air.

“Have you secretly been practising or something?” Max chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “that was one of the best serves that I’ve ever seen in a game of padel.”

You weren’t quite sure where it came from, and truthfully, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hit a ball like that again, but feeling the excitement that radiated from Max made it all worth it. He couldn’t quite believe what he had seen, laughing away to himself in disbelief.

“Turns out I might be better at this than you,” you teased once Max put you down, “I guess you can just call me the padel queen.”

“You told me that she’d never played before,” George called out, letting the reality of what just happened sink in.

Max shrugged in reply, unable to help George. “I swear, I’ve never seen her play like that before. If you want to quit now, just say. I think we know who’s going to win this game now.”

George brushed his hand through his hair as Max took a hold of your hand, leading you back to your positions on court again. There was still a wave of surprise across the net from you as Max took the ball to serve this time.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?” You joked, feeling Max’s eyes land on you, the corners of his smile turning up.

“Hey, you might be good, but you’ve got nothing on me yet.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[dorkszn]

COME AND GET THAT + logan howlett

SYNP — being home for the summer from school isn’t so bad. it isn’t so bad until your motorcycle stops working. and your dad tells you to call over the man that inspired you to get the bike in the first place and the closest one who could fix it, his best friend and your longtime crush, logan.

WARNINGS — masc reader, age gap ( no duh ), reader’s dad is kinda a dick, subbot reader, oral, petnames, logan’s a little mean, slight degradation, kitchen sex, hair pulling, eventual smut, porn with plot | 3.4K ( im sorry 😭 )

PART TWO ( coming soon )

Summertime. It’s such a wonderful time. You get out of school and can drive back to your hometown. You see your parents and siblings and get to flop onto the mattress of your old childhood bedroom.

But your favorite part? Getting to see your dad’s best friend, Logan. Who seems only to be getting hotter and hotter with each passing year. Only maybe you’re just getting more worked up and shy with every year that passes because each summer you can barely stand to look him in the eye or be alone in a room with him.

You’ve been home for about a week or two by this point, getting back into the comfort and schedule of your hometown life. Luckily but also somehow unfortunately, you have yet to see Logan since you returned. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know you’re home.

So imagine your surprise when you’re standing outside of your parent’s house with your dad, examining your sleek motorcycle that just wouldn’t start. You know how to do basic motorcycle care that of course, Logan taught you. He was the one who inspired and motivated you to get the damn bike anyways. So why were you surprised when your dad suggested calling him?

“Guess I’ll give Logan a call and see if he’s busy. He should know how to fix it,” your father says in a small sigh as he stands up straight.

“Wait, call Logan?” You repeat even though you know it’s dumb question and that you were just nervous to see him again since winter break.

“Yeah, Logan, you got a problem with that or something, squirt?” Your father responds slightly mockingly as he repeats your obviously odd question. You just grumble slightly under your breath.

“No, dad, just… go ahead and call em’,” you say in a sigh as the two of you stalk back towards the house. After that, it only takes half an hour before the inevitable and you see that familiar pickup pull into your driveway.

You reluctantly trail behind your dad like a clingy pup instead of a grown man to go greet Logan. You don’t miss the way he smirks with his signature cigar between his lips as he very slowly drags his eyes on your body.

“And when was I gonna find out my favorite college kid was home?” Logan asks gruffly, plucking the cigar from his lips with an outlet of smoke. His voice damn near sends shivers down your spine everytime you hear it.

You just opt for shrugging and giving him a casual smile. “Find out when you find out, I guess,” you say and of course, he lets out that little chuckle and snort that you love so much.

Logan puts his calloused, large hand out for you to greet him correctly only for him to grab your hand and pull you into him. You can’t help the small, very unmanly yelp that leaves you when he grabs you so suddenly. The smell of him hitting you so quick it damn near makes your mind spin. Cigars and ash and wood and leather and just him. Gosh, it almost drives you so crazy you barely notice the light headlock he put you in.

When you do finally notice, it definitely does not help the flare of heat in the pit of your stomach. You try to brush it off, tugging at his incredibly strong and veiny biceps with a small grin to pry him off of you. Finally, he releases you and you can’t help but take in a relieved breath.

“Still as much of a little shit as ever, kid,” Logan taunts, placing his cigar back between his lips. Lips that you wanted to feel on yours so bad. “You sure you ain’t getting smaller with each year?”

You roll your eyes for the second time that night. He knew you weren’t getting smaller. It just seemed like he was getting bigger even at his grown age. And damn, is he big. 6 feet 2 inches and 205 pounds of pure muscle. “Yeah, I’m sure, Logan,” you end up mumbling in response as you stuff your hands in your pockets.

Logan just chuckles again. “Yeah, okay,” he responds sarcastically. With another puff of smoke, he looks to your father then your bike. “So, what’s the problem, Bub?” He inquires.

You trail your father as he walks Logan over to your motorcycle. The same model he recommended years ago. You barely listen as your father explains the situation to his best friend, your eyes stuck to the man in the red flannel.

“Looks like you just need an oil change, kid. And your fuel filters clogged,” Logan says in a small grunt as he stands from his kneeling position next to your bike.

“Damn, squirt, you can’t tell when you need an oil change?” Your dad questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. You frown slightly and your brows furrow.

“I just didn’t notice, okay?” You grumble in reply.

Your father sighs before looking back at Logan. “Could ya fix it, Howlett?” Your father questions, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah, could change the oil if the kid wants. The fuel filter, on the other hand, you’re gonna have to replace the part. I’m assuming you don’t just got one layin’ around here,” Logan explains and he dusts his palms off.

“Perfect. Time for the kid to learn to do something for himself,” your father says with a grin of mock-approval. Oh, how you wish your mother was here instead. Logan just lets out a small chuckle that seems just a little bit forced. “Well, I gotta head off to work. Help Logan out, will ya? Get him whatever he needs or asks for.” Your father sighs to you.

He’s going to leave? The two of you? Alone? Does he actually want you to pass away? “Yeah, dad, I got it,” you say to cover up the way your heart almost immediately started racing. Then it was only minutes later before you were watching your father pull out of your driveway and zip down the street, leaving just you and Logan.

Logan turns to you and damn you could almost feel the way he looked at you. You nervously pull your eyes away from the street and to Logan who offers you his usual smirk when you look at him. “Get me your old man’s box, will ya?” He requests.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmur before turning and walking back towards the house to get your dad’s toolbox. And are you being paranoid or is he definitely watching you walk away?

You eventually come back with your dad’s toolbox in hand. Logan turns to you when he hears your footsteps despite them being damn near silent. He’s always so astute and aware. It scares you and somehow turns you on at the same time.

“Atta boy,” Logan says as he takes the box from you and holds it like it weighs nothing more than a bottle of water. “Thanks, kid.”

Atta boy. Gosh, what would you give to hear him say that again. “Yeah, no problem,” you respond. You can’t help but watch him for a few minutes before turning and walking back towards the house. Your father would definitely force you to stay and watch Logan so you could “actually do something right.” But thankfully and also unfortunately, he isn’t there and Logan could care less.

And for the next 45 minutes, you spend your time inside trying to distract yourself from the man outside. The man you were home alone with. You leave the door ajar just in case he needs anything which of course he doesn’t. He’s just that good, right?

You lean against your kitchen counter, feeding your cat, James, a blonde cat who is somehow more accident prone than you are, blueberries. Your mind is practically running on autopilot out of boredom. But you’re acutely aware of the sound of the front door opening and shutting. As well as the heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

Logan turns the corner, his flannel gone, leaving him in just a tanktop and jeans. A tanktop that practically put all of him on display. The muscles and veins in his arms, the firmness of his chest. Specifically that vein on his right biceps that runs all the way down to his forearm.

There’s a few oil marks staining his skin, on his neck and arms and chest. A little on his cheek. How the hell did he get that dirty? Hell, not like you’d know. You hardly touch the inside of that motorcycle, willingly.

His dog tags hanging perfectly in between his pecs. How you would love to trade places with those things right now. “S’all done, Bub,” Logan tells you as he steps further into the kitchen.

“Right, yeah, thanks,” you say, reluctantly stopping your ogling to grab him a water from the fridge. Logan flicks his hands as he finishes washing them and takes the water from you. He leans against the counter across from you.

“How’s college treatin’ ya?” He inquires, watching as you feed James another piece of fruit.

“It’s okay, nothing special. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice school but it’s not like it’s Ivy League or anything,” you answer in a small shrug as you pop a blueberry into your own mouth. Logan can’t help but watch your lips and throat as you do so. His eyes shamelessly trained on you.

“Well atleast you got somethin’ going for ya,” Logan murmurs, finally looking away as he folds his arms over his chest. “Got a boyfriend waiting there too?” He asks. You give him a look. He chuckles. “Or a girlfriend.” Logan adds.

You just roll your eyes which contrasts the smile on your face. “Answers no to both,” you answer, watching James pluck the blueberry from your fingers. And Logan feels a little too happy to see that little smile on your face again.

“Really?” Logan replies, raising a brow in response. “Those little college kids to stupid to see what’s in front of em’ or something?”

You look over to him and see his little eyebrow raise, a quiet snort leaving you. “I don’t know. I just don’t talk to people like that. Hard to be seen when you’re acting invisible, y’know?” You say nonchalantly.

“Gotta put yourself out there one day, Bub,” Logan sighs. “Can’t keep comin’ back to this place and just hoping for it.” You watch him as he speaks and you can’t help the way your eyes repeatedly drop down to the soot on his muscles. You gotta get those stains off before you go nuts.

“It’s more of a choice than anything,” you tell him as you turn and grab a clean rag from one of the lower cabinets. Logan’s sharp eyes follow you as you move around the kitchen. “People there just don’t really “impress” me.” You add as you wet the rag with warm water.

“Oh, boys there ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Logan questions teasingly, that grin returning to his face. You step in front of him and hold out the damp rag to him. Logan silently gestures to his skin in response.

You swallow and suddenly, your heart is beating a million beats a minute. Your eyes fall from his to his chest and neck as you slowly reach the rag to his skin. “Nah,” you finally answer lowly as you begin to gently scrub at his skin. “All the way in university and still ain’t mature enough.” You mutter, watching the oil stains fade away under the rag.

Logan’s eyes are low as he looks down at you, his eyes trained on your face and lips as you speak and wipe him down. “Oh right, not mature enough f’ya,” Logan murmurs. “Need an older guy to take care of you… don’t ya?”

Your hand pauses on his chest and your eyes move back up to his. A swirl of desire and need mixing in his dark eyes. His gaze alone almost makes you shutter. “Yeah… think I do,” I say in a slightly hoarse whisper.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a barely there breath and raise the rag, going to swipe at some of the stains on his cheeks. Your heart almost stops in your chest when he grabs your wrist instead. His other hand comes up to grab your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

“And what would your old man think about that, huh?” Logan questions lowly, his breath fanning your lips. You part your lips to answer but your words get caught in Logan’s rough lips. Your whole body tenses up for a moment before immediately melting into him.

You let him hold you, you let him push you back into the other counter behind you. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of his earlier cigar still lingering. But it only serves to make you weaker. You groan into his mouth as his large hand suddenly slips from your wrist to your crotch, squeezing you through your sweatpants.

“School got you all pent up, yeah?” Logan asks in a huff of a breath as he just barely pulls away from your lips. Once again, he steals your lips before you can answer. Palming you through your sweatpants while his tongue explores every inch of your mouth.

He’s not wrong. It’s been just you and your hand for months now. And somehow Logan just barely touching you through your sweats is better than any night of you fucking your fist.

You can’t help but whine into his mouth when he pulls away, his hand running over your hips and waist instead. But the feeling of him pressing himself against you in his jeans quickly silences your whines. His half-erect cock grinding against your as he rolls his hips. Logan pulls back in a low groan, a thin shiny string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips.

“Been thinking ‘bout you since winter, Bub. Y’know that? Pretty ass been on my mind for fucking months,” Logan says to you in a heavy breath as he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip. You just look up at him, still in slight shock at it all but your mind falling prey to the pleasure and want.

“What? You wanna do something about that?” You question quietly, your voice not matching your smug and suggestive words.

Logan smirks down at you a bit. “Damn right,” he answers, his hand on your chin shifting to your hair as he grabs a fistful of it and tilts your head to the side. His hips rolling against your again as he sinks his teeth into neck. His name falling from your lips in a whimper.

Your hand subconsciously falls to his belt, weakly trying to still his hips against yours which of course doesn’t work. Logan pulls his teeth from your neck while simultaneously guiding your hand down from his belt to the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Feel that, pretty boy? Feel what you’re doing t’me?” Logan mutters against your bruising skin. And you do feel him. A lot of him. It made you lose your breath further while shooting sparks of further arousal to your gut. “Wanna help me out, Bub? Little favor for changin’ your oil?” He requests as he sucks at your flesh, hungrily and greedily.

You move almost immediately to your knees. Breath shaking as he backs up just a bit to look down at you. A devilish grin covering his face. “Well, aren’t you just an obedient little thing,” he comments as one of his hands finds his belt, the other still in your hair.

Your heart pounding in your ears as you watch his belt unbuckle, as he unbuttons his jeans and zips them down. Your mouth damn-near watering as he tugs down his pants and boxers just enough for his dick to spring free. And oh, your jaw is going to be aching for hours.

“Look at you, all cock-thirsty. Nobody been givin’ you any attention, huh?” Logan says as he pumps himself a few times, gently guiding your head to his already leaking tip. He doesn’t have to ask before you part your lips. Maybe it was a little pathetic how quickly you dropped for him. But you couldn’t care less at the moment.

You let him sit himself on your tongue and he just basks in the view. A bit of his pre dripping onto the pink muscle. That sight alone pushed him further, pushing his hips forward until he was almost buried in your throat to the hilt. “Damn, pretty boy, you done this before or something?” Logan groans before he’s moving.

His hand in your hair keeping your head still as he begins fucking your throat. You try to keep the tears from glossing up in your eyes as he hits the back of your throat but you can’t. He doesn’t mind.

“Fuck, how has nobody claimed this perfect throat yet? Taking me so fucking well,” Logan grunts, staring right down into your glossy eyes. You let out a choked whimper around him in reply, the vibrations of the sound going straight to Logan’s cock, making his eyes fall shut as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Right, can’t answer with your mouth full of dick, can you?”

Another muffled whimper which results in him tugging on your hair. “Guess your old man was wrong, huh?” Logan pants over the sound of his balls lewdly hitting your chin, a mix of his pre and your own drool slicking the skin. “You did learn to do somethin’ useful. Damn good cock-sucker.”

Your hands hold onto his thighs as he repeatedly stuffs your face to the hilt, his fat tip kissing the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his skin through his jeans only for his eyes to roll in response. A hoarse and gruff “oh fuck” slipping through his teeth. “Been doing this for those college boys? That how you brought your little grade back up?” Logan questions roughly as he looks down to you.

Such a pretty sight you are. Eyes watering, lashes glistening, mouth full, and your lips a wet mess of your fluids.

“Mmm,” your denial doesn’t leave as words, just muffled choked sounds. A small smirk grows on Logan’s face.

“No? Ain’t that a shocker. You’d— shit— you’d make some good fucking money. Sucking cock for cash, clearly doesn't take much to get you to anyways,” Logan says, almost taunting you with his words. Taunting how fast you got on your knees for him.

You can only respond by pressing your tongue flaccid against his cock, feeling his veins pulse over the muscle. Only for him to tug on your hair when you swirl your tongue over his tip. “Fine by me,” Logan says, his voice breaking into a breathy moan. “Pretty little throat is all mine.”

You feel your own hard-on twitch in your pants at that. The idea of being all his. Even if it’s just for the summers and winters. Logan doesn’t miss the way you take him in more greedily, the way you keep letting him glide across your tongue, the way your breathing just barely steadies when you finally find a rhythm.

“Yeah? You like that idea, Bub? Being all mine?” Logan says strained, the snap of his hips growing sloppy and stuttering. All you can do is let out a muffled groan around him, staring up at him with your big eyes as the tears finally slip over. They only worsen their streams as Logan pushes your head down, giving you hardly any room to breathe as his cock twitches and he cums down your throat.

He doesn’t let you go until you’re digging your nails into his thighs again and he finally lets go of your hair. You pull away and practically gasp for the breath you lost. Coughing and heaving and sniffling as dribbles of his release rolling down your chin, followed by your tears.

“You okay down there, Bub? Too much?” Logan asks as he chases his own breath.

“No, no, i—i'm okay,” you manage to get out as you wipe at the tears and your slick chin. Logan’s low eyes drop to the tent in your sweatpants between your legs. His eyes then pull back up to yours.

“What time does your old man get off?”

[comically-callous]

Can I request headcanons for Kurt, Remy, Logan, and Wade finding out that his gn s/o has never dated anyone else before him please?

X-Men requests YAYYYYY YAY YAY YAY YAY!!!!!!!! 🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃

Wade, Logan, Remy, and Kurt with a s/o who hasn’t dated anyone other than them!! <3

Warnings!: cursing ig, reader is referred to as pretty (I consider that gender neutral, but wanted to put it here just in case), and that’s it!

A/n: Want them all ngl 😞 If it wasn’t already clear, I’m delighted to have my first X-Men request. And I also really like this prompt (definitely not because I can relate to it. Haha, shut up). Also, requests: OPEN 💜

Wade:

He straight up thinks you’re lying when you first tell him. He even laughs because he’s convinced you’re just messing with him.

But, then he realizes you’re not laughing and he’s like “Oh, shit. Really?”

He’ll apologize for laughing and probably say some shit like “Sorry, I just didn’t realize a smoke show like you was capable of being single”

And he means it. He was fully under the impression that you’d been on more than a few dates because you’re HOT

Definitely teases you about it. “Is that why your hands were so sweaty on our first date?”

Don’t be afraid to (playfully) smack him.

Despite all of the teasing, he makes sure to let you know that it doesn’t bother him. In fact, he thinks it’s cute

He’ll say that you’re “new to dating” even if the two of you have been dating for years

Starts calling you a rookie. And he ends up saying it so much that it just becomes one of the many pet names he has for you

And, yeah. When you’re not around he’s probably giggling and kicking his feet over how he’s your first boyfriend 🤭

Logan:

When you first tell him, he just looks at you for a second, not saying anything before going “You’re serious?”

“And you decided I’d be a good first pick?” He says it like he’s teasing, but, in reality, it does confuse him a bit.

Like, wouldn’t you want someone sweet and kind for your first relationship? Not a grumpy, old guy with knife hands???

Nonetheless, he’s grateful (and even honored) to be given the title of your first boyfriend

He doesn’t make a huge deal out of it. He’ll occasionally bring it up, maybe ask a question or two about it. But, it doesn’t really change anything about your relationship.

Or, at least, that’s what you think for a while.

One night, he returns from a long mission and he crawls into bed next to you, and you think he’s just gonna immediately go to sleep like he does every time he comes back from a mission. But, then he mumbles something.

“I wish I’d had someone like you as my first.”

And before you can even process it, he’s asleep.

You ask him about it in the morning and he says he doesn’t remember saying it. You can decide whether or not you think he’s lying.

Remy:

You tell him that you want to tell him something, and he can tell you’re nervous about it.

“What’s got you so nervous, chère? You know Gambit don’t judge nobody. ‘Specially not you.”

And you confess to him that you’ve never dated anyone and he’s like. “Oh. That’s it?”

He doesn’t mean to sound apathetic. He was just expecting something bad.

He asks you to clarify what you mean by “not dating anyone before him” because he thinks he somehow misunderstood you

“You telling me no one ever tried to get with a pretty thing like you?” And then he smirks. “Or were you just ignorin’ all of ‘em till Gambit came round?”

He also teases you about it from time to time. Makes little comments about how he’s your first.

But, it’s just because he loves it.

He often thinks about how he’s the only guy who’s gotten to take you on dates and do all this romantic stuff with you

“Don’t no one else know what they missing out on….”

Kurt:

He doesn’t even try to hide his surprise. He can’t.

“I’m really your first? But, how? You are so beautiful!” He’s just upfront with why he thinks it’s absurd.

He needs to hear it a few more times before he finally accepts it. And that’s when he starts getting giddy.

“I am your first lover?” He grins. “I like that, I think.”

And now everyone has to know. Sorry.

He will gladly go around and tell people that he’s your “first love” (as he likes to say). Is it usually embarrassing for you? Yes. But, it’s Kurt. So, it’s okay.

So, yeah. You definitely don’t have to worry about whether or not he minds it.

Of course, now he has to ask a bunch of questions about it too.

“So, was the first date you’ve ever had with me?” If you say yes, he smiles before asking. “Was it good?” Like he doesn’t already know the answer.

He’s just over the moon that he was the first person that you really fell in love with. And he wants you and everyone around you to know how happy he is with you.