#and yes he is exactly as soft as he looks

[hurtblossom]

On thin ice ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female Iceskater!Reader

Summary : Lando is jealous of his girlfriend's iceskating partner.

Warnings : Angst, established relationship

The sharp scrape of skates against ice filled the cavernous rink, the sound bouncing off the empty seats and high ceilings. (Y/N) exhaled deeply, her breath clouding the chilly air as she steadied herself. Ethan skated toward her, his movements effortless, his presence as comforting as ever.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Ethan teased lightly, stopping in front of her.

She gave him a weak smile. “I can’t help it.”

“You don’t need to. You’ve got this.”

He held out his hand, and she took it, their fingers locking with the ease of years spent practicing together. They moved into the opening position of their routine, the soft strains of music echoing through the rink as they began.

Every spin, every lift, every glide was a testament to their hard work, their connection honed over countless hours of practice. Ethan’s hand on her back, his voice low and steady as he guided her through a lift, was nothing new to her. It was simply a part of the dance.

But to Lando, it was something else entirely.

Lando had been her biggest supporter in the beginning. When they first started dating, he’d been captivated by her passion for skating. He admired her dedication, often comparing it to his own drive for Formula 1. They bonded over their shared understanding of sacrifice and ambition, and for a while, it felt like they were unstoppable.

But as their lives grew busier, the cracks began to form.

(Y/N) had always made time for Lando, traveling to his races whenever her schedule allowed. She’d spent hours in the paddock, enduring the chaos and noise just to be there for him. She cheered the loudest when he stood on the podium, comforted him when he didn’t, and never once complained about the toll it took on her own life.

Lando, however, struggled to do the same.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He did—deeply. But his jealousy over her partnership with Ethan was a wound that festered, growing more painful with each passing day. He hated the way Ethan’s name was always on her lips, the way she spent more time on the ice with him than she did at home with Lando.

He hated that Ethan got to see her in her element—the part of her life Lando could never truly understand.

The tension between them came to a head one evening when (Y/N) returned from practice later than usual. Lando was waiting for her, his arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth.

“Practice ran over,” she replied, setting her bag down.

“With Ethan, I assume,” he added, his tone sharp.

(Y/N) sighed, already bracing herself for the argument she knew was coming. “Yes, Lando. With Ethan. Who else would it be?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” he snapped, pushing off the counter. “It’s always Ethan. You spend more time with him than you do with me.”

Her jaw tightened. “Lando, we’ve been over this. He’s my skating partner. That’s all.”

“And I’m supposed to just be okay with that?” he demanded. “You don’t see how weird this is? How it looks?”

She crossed her arms, frustration bubbling to the surface. “How it looks? Lando, this is my career. I’ve been skating with Ethan for years—long before I met you. Why is this suddenly a problem?”

“Because I see the way he looks at you,” Lando shot back. “Like you’re more than just his partner.”

(Y/N)’s heart sank at the accusation, her chest tightening. “That’s not fair. Ethan and I are teammates, nothing more. You’re my boyfriend. Why can’t you trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” he admitted, his voice quieter but no less pained.

She stared at him, her tears threatening to spill. “Do you even realize how much I’ve sacrificed for you? How many races I’ve been to, how many times I’ve put you first? And now, when I need your support, all you can do is accuse me of things that aren’t even true?”

His expression faltered, guilt flickering in his eyes, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, he said, “Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I’m coming second.”

The words hit her like a slap, leaving her speechless. She turned away, unable to look at him. “If you can’t handle my life, then maybe you shouldn’t be in it.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Lando grabbed his jacket, his movements abrupt.

“Fine,” he said coldly. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

The sound of the door slamming behind him echoed in the empty apartment, leaving her standing alone, her chest heaving as silent tears streamed down her face.

—

The day of the competition arrived, but (Y/N) felt hollow. The weight of Lando’s absence pressed heavily on her chest as she laced up her skates backstage. Ethan sat beside her, his presence steady and comforting.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice calm.

She nodded, though her hands trembled as she tied the final knot. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

The arena was packed, the cheers of the crowd echoing off the high ceilings as they stepped onto the ice. She scanned the stands instinctively, half-hoping to see Lando’s familiar face. But he wasn’t there.

The music began, and she forced herself to focus, moving through the opening steps with precision. But her mind betrayed her, Lando’s words echoing in her head. “Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I’m coming second.”

Her foot slipped slightly during a turn, the mistake small but glaring to her trained eye. Ethan caught her immediately, his grip firm as he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

They continued, but the mistakes kept coming—hesitant steps, uneven spins, moments of faltering confidence. Each one felt like another crack in her resolve, the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill.

By the time the routine ended, her face was damp with tears. Ethan kept her close as they bowed, his hand squeezing hers in silent reassurance.

Backstage, (Y/N) sank onto a bench, her head in her hands as the adrenaline faded. Ethan sat beside her, his voice soft as he said, “You did great.”

She shook her head, her voice breaking. “I messed up.”

“No one noticed,” he said firmly. “You were incredible.”

But his words did little to soothe the ache in her chest.

When she returned home that night, she found Lando sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked up as she walked in, his eyes heavy with guilt.

“I saw your routine,” he said quietly. “You looked beautiful out there.”

Her chest tightened as she dropped her bag by the door. “But you weren’t there.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there after the fight,” he admitted, his voice breaking.

Her tears spilled over as she stepped closer. “I always want you there, Lando. Even when we fight, even when I’m angry, I need you to be there. But tonight, you weren’t. And it broke me.”

He stood, reaching for her hands. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I let my jealousy get in the way, and I should have been there. You deserved better.”

She shook her head, her voice trembling. “Do you even realize how much I’ve given for you? And the one time I needed you, you weren’t there.”

His voice was thick with emotion as he said, “I know. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

She stepped back, the pain in her chest unbearable. “I don’t know if you can, Lando.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and final, as she turned away, leaving him standing alone in the quiet apartment.

⁴

an : leave comments please 😞😞 i love to read them, i feel important

[vickymura]

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ riding riki's abs cuz he's too damn hot doing crunches.

GENRE ~ smut, pwop(?).

WORD COUNT ~ 1.302k

ᯓ★ love the banner for this ngl. not my best work:( but it was requested so here

visiting your boyfriend's apartment to be met with the sight of him shirtless, doing crunches in his room was definitely a welcome you'd want to see more often.

you'd blame ovulation, but something about seeing the beads of sweat dripping down the pattern of his abs made you feel a certain tingle in a place sinfully up between your legs.

with a cool facade, you flashed a soft smile, settling your bag down in its usual place and unwrapping the winter layers you had on. “working hard, huh, riki?” you teased, but it was mostly just a mere attempt of hiding and distracting yourself from your fluster and desires.

"mm." he responded with the short, low hum that you couldn't decipher as a yes or a no. his breath came out in rhythmic puffs, hands clasping each other as he pushed himself up and down. he wasn't exactly talkative when he was 'in the zone', but the hint of a smirk curled on his lips as he looked up at you. "you're just on time. i was getting lonely." his little complaint earned a mostly playful scoff from you. “geez, i was gone for one hour because somebody refuses to be a grown up and get their own groceries.” 

having had familiarity with his bedroom, you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed beside where he was on the floor without having to look up.

he groaned as he sat up, rolling his head from side to side to ease the strain in his neck, flexing his abdominal muscles by accident as he did. "mm. i hate grocery shopping." he retorted back quickly, his eyes settling on you. his gaze was intense, filled with a bit of annoyance and something else, something that you knew from experience would lead to your clothes being tossed to the floor in a messy pile.

with his new position, came the delicious little sight of his sweaty strands of overgrown bangs sticking to his forehead, his glistening flexed muscles and the naturally prominent tent in his gray sweats.

you cleared your throat, ‘discreetly’ looking back up at his eyes.

“you’re just too childish.” you countered, ending your sentence by hypocritically sticking out your tongue in a childish manner.

he rolled his eyes at that, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he rose to his feet, taking slow and deliberate strides towards you. he towered over you, forcing you to look up in his eyes as he stepped between your legs, pinning you against the edge of the bed with his arms on either side. "mm, really." he chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising. "keep sticking your tongue out like that and i'll find a better use for it."

oh, he knew what he was doing. you swallowed thickly at the implications of his words, but scoffed sassily. but god, his abs were right there, in front of your face, glistening in a way that made you wish it was something other than his sweat.

“whatever. you’re sweaty and stinky, go take a shower.” it was a lame excuse, but at that point you’d try every bit you could to escape the situation.

riki chuckled again, amused at your attempt to keep him from sensing how his very presence was already making you want to throw your clothes off. he leaned in close, so that his nose was practically grazing yours. "that doesn't sound like the nicest thing you could say to your boyfriend who's been working so hard in the hot summer heat, now does it?" he teased back, a smirk on his lips and an obvious mischief in his eyes.

“and what do you think is the nicest thing i should say to my oh-so hardworking boyfriend?” you immediately snapped back, an edge of annoyance forming in your tone, thanks to his teasing. 

he was absolutely infuriating, and all while looking so damn sexy that it drove you crazy in all the best ways.

he chuckled again, enjoying the smartassery you continued to try and push past his guard. riki pressed a light kiss to your forehead before giving you a response. "something... less rude." he stated simply, his hands gripping the edge of the bed now, caging you in. "like... i don't know, like…” he leaned in close to your ear, his body gently pressing itself against yours. "i think it should've been more along the lines of 'oh my handsome boyfriend, you're working so hard. let me help you relax~'"

you let out a scoff-like chuckle. he was really pushing it out of cockiness of having the upper hand and your admiring gaze here, wasn’t he? “self-indulgent much?” "damn right." he shamelessly said, his voice dropping an octave, eyes locking onto yours. "very." the smirk on his face curled into a half-smirk, his hot breath tickling your skin. his hips pushed against yours, his hands still on either side. "i want to be a little selfish right now."

you hummed, spreading your legs wider to incorporate his larger frame. with the decision to indulge in his little game, you questioned, “selfish how, hm?”

riki's smirk only widened as he settled between your legs, a hand gently taking your chin and forcing your gaze to remain locked on his. "in a lot of ways." he responded, his other hand gently gripping your thigh. "one of them being a nice reward for working so damn hard."

“i have a different proposition.” you suddenly interrupted, your tone one he couldn’t recognize. without giving him time to reply, you continued, “i have a very selfish desire, myself.”

his smirk widened again, his head inching closer like a lion nearing his prey. his eyes had a fire burning behind them, a sort of intense desire that you knew only led somewhere hot and messy. "oh yeah?" he responded, that hand that was gripping your thigh running up a bit. "and what's this 'very selfish' desire of yours?"

one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew- you were sitting on riki's muscular abdomen, hands on his chest as you coated his abs with your slick.

his hands moved to grip your hip instead, digging his nails in as guided your movements against his flexed muscles. he wore a lazy smirk on his lips, bringing one of his hands to make circular motions on your clit.

“fuck..” you cried out in pleasure, frantically riding on his abs like your life depended on it.

“you feel good baby? don’t even need my cock to get off anymore.. greedy baby.” he basically purred into your ear, continuing to rub your clit with his calloused thumb.

the pretty whimpers and gasps escaping your lips were like music to his ear, you were clearly too delirious to take offense to his teases, let alone come up with a reply. your pussy pulsated on his abs as a clear sign of approaching your orgasm, and it only encouraged him to further guide your hips and rub you.

“riki..” you mewled in utter glee, your hips jerking forth involuntarily ever so often.

“yes, baby? you close? gonna cum on my abs?” he teased, his voice ringing low and deep in your senses.

you gripped onto his chest just a little harder, the knot in your stomach breaking apart with a lewd moan. you stilled your hips as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm, your ejaculation now coating his proud muscles.

he groaned at the wet warmth of it, now gripping onto your hips in a way that made his own needs evident. “that was fucking hot..” he commented, making you return back to earth from your high and hide your face in the crook of his neck out of post-nut embarrassment. 

“shut up..” reblog and comment or i'll appear in ur room at 3 am with a knife :3 💗

[bright-n-daisy]

I just love you

Pairing: Logan ‘Wolverine’ Holwett x afab!reader

Summary: You are exhausted after a day of work, after a subtle gesture of love, Logan has ideas other than sleep.

Warnings: MNDI 18+, fluff, established relationship, pet names (baby, bub, darling), SMUT, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cockwarming, tiniest bit of somnophilia (reader is fully conscious but very tired), only body descriptions include being smaller than Logan and afab reader, small nod to reader being an empath. A bad word. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: K I had this idea pop up while I was trying to take a nap lol. I haven’t written for tumblr in years and don’t expect this as a comeback. Enjoy!

It wasn’t unusual for you to feel a lull in energy around midday. Sometimes caffeine would suffice, but you could already tell that was not the remedy your body needed today.

Your last class had just finished up. It had been a rough day with students not behaving. Yes, there was a certain prestige that came with your students at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, but at the end of the day, they were still teenagers.

As you stand in your office packing up your bag, awaiting the comforting bed you know is just upstairs and across the building, you hear a familiar pair of boots thud down the hallway. With the tall figure now standing in the doorway, you feel the tension of the day ease, but the weary feeling remains.

“I know that look.” Logan says. “C’mon bub. Let’s get you upstairs.”

He waits there until you make your way over to him. Once you meet him you place a hand on his cheek and a small peck to his lips. No matter how long you two will be together, a gesture that small, that domestic, makes a faint blush appear across Logan’s cheeks. With a flick of his neck, silently guiding you out the doorway, he keeps a hand at the small of your back as he closes the door behind you.

In the confines of your shared room, you can finally feel totally relaxed. Logan waits for you on the bed as you change out of your work clothes. You opt for your favorite choice as of late; one of Logan’s t-shirts that is oversized on your frame.

You crawl your way on the bed and place yourself on Logan’s bare chest. He knows when you take a nap, it’s for you. He is here for you, at your pleasure, not that much has changed from how he normally treats you. He lays on his back as you cuddle up to his side, laying your head on his chest. You are lulled off into a sleepy haze as you run your hand across Logan’s chest and he gently plays with your hair.

Before you lose any more energy and fade off completely, you turn your head slightly and place a tender kiss to Logan’s abs.

“What was that for?” Logan asks through a soft chuckle.

“Just love you.” You all but mumble.

“Just love you too.” He whispers as he slowly pulls away from you.

A soft whimper escapes your lips from the loss of warmth, only to be replaced with his body over yours. Laying flat on your back now Logan kisses from your cheek down your neck, placing sloppy open mouthed kisses just below your jaw.

“Lo, too tired.” You utter, unable to believe those words just left your mouth.

“That’s fine baby. I’ll do all the work, okay?”

“Okay.” You confirm.

That’s all he needs to continue his work. Still sucking on your neck he takes a hold of one of your breasts slowly massaging it to get you worked up. Once he feels satisfied, he trails his mouth down your body to your core, exactly where he wants to be.

He pulls the shirt up slightly to reveal your cunt. With a small groan leaving his lips, he runs a finger between your folds. Just enough of a touch, it has you instinctively lifting your hips off the bed.

“So wet for me. So pretty.” Logan hums, keeping his eyes locked to your pussy.

“Please baby.” You sigh, waiting for more.

With a hunger needing to be satiated, Logan dives into his favorite meal. Lazily licking and sucking in all the places you need most. This isn’t how Logan would normally do this. Usually there is a fervor to his actions, he can’t wait to hear your sweet moans and will do whatever it takes to make you reach your peak. Today he chooses to simply enjoy the moment, enjoy every minute he spends between your legs, memorizing you.

There is a certain simplicity in sex that he has never been able to enjoy before. Only ever having one night stands, or quick fucks to get him off. He’s never necessarily cared for the other person. Not until he met you. Coming to the mansion changed his life in so many ways, and you were the best of all of them, it feels so easy with you.

Logan is brought back to reality by your soft moans and a passive hand coming down to grip his hair.

“Uh, close baby.” You whine.

“I know, baby. I’m here. I got ya.”

The timbre of his voice against your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You thought you’d want nothing more than some shut eye, but god were you wrong.

Logan makes his way back up towards you, still trying to catch your breath from the euphoria he caused you.

Having turned you on your side with your back tucked into his chest, he turns and whispers in your ear -

“Ready for round two?”

You simply nod your head in response.

“Words baby.” Logan commands, lightly grazing his fingers over your swollen bud.

“Yes.” You flop your head back against his shoulder.

You’re not sure when Logan lost his pants, but somehow along the way he stripped down bare. You hike your leg over to the side as he lines himself up with your entrance, giving him more room.

With a single thrust Logan is inside of you, filling you completely.

“Ugh, so tight, like you were made for me.” Logan groans into your ear before pulling out so he can thrust back into you.

“Uhh, Lo.” You moan quietly, still feeling the weight of sleepiness taking over you, however current activities are taking precedence in your mind and body.

You reach a hand up to grasp your clothed breast, squeezing to pleasure yourself further. You feel Logan’s much bigger hand land on top of yours, encouraging you while also being able to feel the love and adoration emit from him.

The two of you stay like that for a while. Logan thrusts in and out into you reaching new heights of bliss with each kiss of his tip against your cervix. Slowly you feel the tension in your lower belly start to grow, an all too familiar feeling returning. You free your hand between your breast and Logan’s hand to reach back and grab his buttock.

“Right there.” You praise Logan, wanting this feeling to last forever.

“Darlin’, you don’t know what you do to me.” He breathes out. You can feel he’s close from the way he’s twitching inside you.

“Keep going baby. Almost there.” You say. He reaches down and places a gentle hand on your clit, rubbing circles to bring you to your own orgasm.

You can feel his hot seed shoot inside of you as your legs begin to shudder from your own high. He places sloppy kisses to your neck as you reach a hand up to his hair and tug the slightest bit.

You stay like that while you both catch your breath. You tip your head back just enough to reach his lips and pull them against yours. You relish the closeness. As much as you saved Logan, you need him more than the air you breathe. Having felt like you were going through the motions before you met him.

You feel him start to pull out of you when you reach back and place your hand back on his behind.

“Wait. Can we stay like this? I wanna feel you while I sleep.” You tell him.

He grabs your hand off of his back side, wrapping his fingers with your own as he wraps his arm around your side, successfully spooning you.

“Anything for you darlin’.”

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 the good girl . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　the introduction (1)

synopsis -- Rafe is infatuated with you, his new secretary; something about a trip to Morocco. Rafe is in debt and wants you to pick up a bag of cocaine from Barry for him.

warnings: 18+ mdni mostly through Rafe's (perverted) pov, cursing, ward is still alive, smut but through fantasies, angst, Slight Dark! Rafe, drug/alcohol usage

a/n: I don't know anything about real estate so please don't take the buisness portions in this series seriously.

Series Masterlist | word count: 3.2k

You and Rafe had four scheduled meetings together before noon, each one dragging on with the monotonous drone of old men discussing business.

Rafe, easily bored, found his attention drifting away from the discussions and towards you. He couldn't help but notice the delicate beauty marks scattered across your smooth crossed legs, a detail he had committed to memory by the third meeting.

He longed for your soft voice as he listened to the sound of flapping cheeks and tedious numbers being tossed back and forth. Every now and then, just to hear it, he would interrupt with a simple question in your ear: "You got that down?"

And in response, you would always give a respectful "Yes sir" or a subtle hum on quieter days.

Rafe would watch you intently as you quickly scribbled down notes about whatever mundane topic was being discussed by the mortgage broker--so you can recite to him later.

Despite the dullness of the meetings, he found himself amused by your presence and secretly looked forward to these moments shared between just the two of you.

And then, like clockwork, that smart ass Pope Hayward would lean in and whisper something in your ear, too, ruining everything for Rafe.

Hayward had worked for R&P, the mortgage brokers for Cameron Development, and would often attend their meetings. He always sat beside you, on the opposite side of Rafe, where he was conveniently hidden behind your body and out of Rafe's line of sight.

Rafe thinks this is a sneaky move on Hayward's part since Rafe had suspicions that Hayward may have a crush on you, which only fueled his anger towards Hayward and the meetings.

If Rafe ever discovered Heyward's true feelings for you, he wouldn't hesitate to resurrect the violence of their teenage years. He'd make you watch as he reminded Heyward exactly who you belonged to, letting Heyward's blood stain his thousand-dollar leather shoes. After all, what better way to prove his love than marking his expensive Italian leather with the consequences of wanting what's his? Some men send flowers – Rafe Cameron sends messages written in bruises and blood.

The boardroom felt thick with tension as Rafe's attention ping-ponged between the financial reports and the way Heyward kept leaning toward you. His knuckles turned white around his Mont Blanc pen every time Heyward whispered something in your ear, every time you smiled politely in response.

The irony wasn't lost on him – Heyward's own secretary sat barely three feet away, yet here he was, hovering over what belonged to Rafe. His secretary. His territory.

By the fourth meeting, Rafe found  himself on the brink of madness, his father, Ward Cameron, drawling tone grating on his nerves. 

Mentally detached, he fantasized about indulging in a line of cocaine to awaken his senses, only to have his mind wander to envisioning himself ravishing you right atop the conference table in full view of everyone. 

His imagination spiraled further, picturing the new maintenance girl he saw a couple nights ago, pleasuring you while you, upside down like a flipped turtle, sucking his cock. 

A sudden pang of guilt hit Rafe as he remembered that he needed to order another batch of his "special" supplies from Barry.

He wondered if you, his new secretary, would be willing to make the call for him. His former assistant would have handled it without question, but she was long gone now.

Rafe resumed thinking about you, him, and the maintenance girl having a very sexy threesome on the conference table; he's jolted back to the present as his father's voice rings out, drawing his attention to the press room, where every man's gaze is fixed on him. 

The gentle touch of your hand on the padded sleeve of his suit stirs him, and he feels like popping a boner from your warm touch. 

He asks Ward to repeat himself.

Ward's voice was agitated, his tone indicating his impatience with his son. "Rafe, I want you to deal with the Morocco situation," he repeated firmly.

Later on, Rafe fumed over his father's request in his newly personalized office. Rafe's response was harsh and tense as he spat at his father, "How fair is it to dump all of this on me?!"

He had initially been planning for a sleek, earthy-toned with a black and brown look for his office. But when you mentioned your preference for dark blue and white, Rafe couldn't resist. After all, he always looked delectable in those colors, you told him (and yes, delectable was the exact word you used). So Rafe dropped his original design and went with a nautical theme instead.

"Well, son," Ward's voice cut through the air like ice, "if you could tear your eyes away from your secretary for five minutes, you might understand why the Morocco deal is crucial for this company's future."

Rafe's jaw clenched. "I wasn't--"

"Save it," Ward interrupted, his calm facade cracking. "I've seen this before, Rafe. The way you look at her, how you've redecorated your entire office to her taste. Just like all the others." He leaned forward, voice dropping. "How many secretaries have we lost because of you? How many NDAs have I had to sign?"

The accusation hung heavy in the air. Rafe's hands curled into fists, his cerulean eyes darkening with something dangerous. "This one's different," he growled.

"That's what you said about the last one." Ward's laugh was bitter. "And the one before that. Face it, son - you're becoming predictable. By this time next month, I'll be interviewing replacements. Again."

"Look," Ward's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, but Rafe wasn't about to let him finish that thought.

"No, you look," he spits at his father. "You're always pulling this crap on me - sending me off to do your dirty work like some kind of expendable pawn. 'Send Rafe to northwest Africa for two months, with our worst fucking clients' " Rafe said, fake laughing and clapping all the while." Well the joke's on me, isn't it?" Rafe's eyes blaze with anger and bitterness as years of resentment bubble to the surface.

The words flew out of Rafe's mouth like venomous arrows, each one stinging with a sharp and bitter rage. "You wouldn't dare do this to Sarah, dad--your perfect little princess. But me? I'm just the expendable son, right? Send me on a ten hour flight, unpaid, to fix someone else's mistakes!" His voice dripped with disdain as he imitated his father's words in a mocking tone.

But Ward was not cowed by his son's outburst. "Rafe, please just calm down and listen--"

Rafe's words were sharp as he cut Ward off. "Don't play dumb with me, Dad. I know exactly why you're sending me to South Africa - it's a punishment, a way to get rid of me." The tension in the office was thick and palpable as Ward yelled back, their argument echoing off the walls for all to hear.

But amidst the chaos, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity and nosiness. You had been waiting outside Rafe's office, ready to deliver an urgent message about his 3 o'clock lunch meeting with another Mortgage Broker, Dennis Rutherford.

As time ticked by and Rafe's chauffeured car waited impatiently outside, you knew you had to intervene before it was too late.

Bursting into the office uninvited, you were greeted with the sight of father and son locked in a heated battle, their words laced with anger and resentment. This was not just another work disagreement - this was a deep-rooted family conflict that threatened to tear them apart.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen." you awkwardly say, getting both men's attention. 

Had it been anyone else, Rafe would have immediately fired them for barging in like that. However, since it was you—and he hadn’t yet had the chance to sleep with you—Rafe merely shouted a sharp "What?!" that made you recoil in fear. He felt awful about your reaction but thought he could make it up to you later when his tongue is knee-deep into your pussy.

"Your 3'oclock, sir--with Mr.Rutherford." You say, trying to mask their intimidation.

"Shit." Rafe cursed, swiping a hand across his growing buzzed head. "Did you call the chauffeur?" he asked you. 

You acknowledge with a bow of your head, responding, Of course, sir, as you pass his briefcase into his hands. Rafe longed to refer to you as his good girl, yet with his father present in the room—and after already being seen openly "oogling" you earlier by his father and possibly others—he hesitated. 

While escorting Rafe from the office, he looks at you and remarks: 

"Join me and Rutherford for lunch."

Your heart races as you scramble to find an excuse. "I-I have a mountain of work to catch up on--"

"I don't recall asking you," he sneers, cutting you off. "I was telling you."

Twenty minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and Rafe had already downed three vodka shots, each one burning away at his paper-thin patience. The bar at Roots, despite its upscale pretense, felt suffocating.

You'd been to countless lunch meetings with him before, but something about today felt different. More dangerous. Maybe it was the way his leg kept brushing against yours under the bar, or how his cerulean eyes seemed to devour you between drinks.

Rafe Cameron, with his old money and expensive tastes, ordered another round. You watched, entranced despite yourself, as the alcohol stripped away his careful facade, revealing something raw and hungry underneath.

"Have a drink with me," he murmured, his voice honey-thick with liquor. His glazed eyes fixed on yours, holding secrets you weren't sure you wanted to understand.

"I believe one of us should stay sober, sir," you replied, fighting to keep your voice steady. The 'sir' slipped out automatically, and you watched his pupils dilate at the word.

A dark smile played at his lips as he closed his eyes, savoring your voice like another shot of vodka. Something about your presence seemed to intoxicate him more than the alcohol – a power that thrilled and terrified you in equal measure.

His hand found your knee under the bar, and you clutched your purse tighter, using it like a shield. Rafe noticed – he noticed everything about you – and his smile turned predatory.

"Just one drink," he pressed, sliding a virgin cocktail toward you. "Let go for me." The 'for me' sounded more like a claim than a request.

Forty-seven minutes in, Rutherford finally arrived to find Rafe thoroughly drunk and dangerously unraveled. The moment shattered as Rutherford launched into a tirade about debts – \$250,000 worth of them, spread across every loan shark in the city.

You shifted in your seat, uncomfortably aware of Rafe's heat beside you, the way his expensive cologne mixed with top-shelf vodka.

"The money's coming," Rafe slurred, but his eyes remained sharp, calculating. "Big deals in the pipeline. Major commissions."

Rutherford's lip curled in disgust. "Better hope so, Cameron. Or things get ugly."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Rafe's fist clenched on the bar, his other hand still burning against your knee, his whole body vibrating with barely contained violence.

His thoughts scattered between the mounting pressure, the need for chemical escape, and the way your pulse jumped in your throat every time he leaned too close.

Without realizing it, Rafe grabbed your shoulder roughly and whispered in your ear, nearly dislocating your shoulder blade in the process.

Rafe's desperation was palpable as he leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur. "I need you to do something for me," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. "There's a guy named Barry. He's got something I need. I need you to pick it up for me."

Your heart raced as you realized what he was asking. "What is it?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe hesitated, his gaze shifting away. "It's a bag of cocaine," he admitted finally. "I need it to clear my head, to think straight. And I need it now."

You knew the risks, but Rafe's desperation was undeniable. He was in deep trouble, and he needed your help, as you looked in those glossy cerulean eyes of his. "Alright," you sighed, "I'll do it. But this is the last time, Mr. Cameron, what will your father think?"

"What he thinks of me already—that I'm just a Rafe, his screw-up of a son," Rafe replied. Despite this, a look of relief spread across his face, although the predatory gleam in his eyes remained. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled business card, pressing it into your palm with trembling fingers. His touch lingered longer than necessary, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Barry works out of the Bellamy Building on 5th," he whispered, his hot breath reeking of vodka against your ear. "Suite 401. Tell him Rafe sent you. And for God's sake, don't let anyone follow you."

Rutherford watched this exchange with cold calculation, his jaw clenched tight. He knew exactly what was happening – he'd seen plenty of rich boys like Rafe drag their employees into their mess before.

You gathered your things, trying to ignore how Rafe's eyes followed your every movement. Just as you stood to leave, he grabbed your wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise.

"One hour," he hissed. "I need it in one hour. Don't disappoint me."

The weight of what you'd agreed to settled heavy in your stomach as you walked toward the exit. Behind you, you could hear Rutherford's gravelly voice resume his threats, but Rafe's attention remained fixed on your retreating form until you disappeared through the door.

The Bellamy Building loomed like a tombstone against the afternoon sky, its worn brick facade a testament to forgotten glory. Inside, the elevator's slow climb gave you too much time to think – about Rafe's hungry cerulean eyes, his lingering touches that burned like brands, how every "yes, sir" seemed to draw you deeper into his web.

Suite 401 lurked at the end of a dimly lit hallway, distinguished only by tarnished brass numbers. Your knuckles rapped against the door – twice, then three times, just as Rafe had instructed. The sound seemed to echo down the empty corridor.

The door creaked open just enough to reveal a sliver of face: tired eyes beneath greasy long black hair, calculating and cold. "Barry?" Your voice emerged steadier than your racing heart. "Rafe Cameron sent me."

The door groaned wider. Barry matched his surroundings perfectly – disheveled but alert, like a crow picking through society's remains. His office was a study in decay: nicotine-stained walls, flickering fluorescent lights that made everything look diseased, and an ancient desk that had witnessed too many secrets.

"Well, well," Barry's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Another one of Rafe's girls." He studied you like a specimen under glass. "You know, you're all starting to blur together. Pretty. Proper. Corruptible." The last word dripped with dark amusement.

He slid a small package across the desk, but when you reached for it, his fingers trapped yours. You jerked the package away.

Inescapably, Barry's raspy laugh followed you as you ascended down the hallway, bouncing off the grimy walls like a bad omen. "Tell Rafe his debt's getting steep," he called after you, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "And honey? Better watch yourself! Pretty secretaries like you have a way of… disappearing around Rafe Cameron."

Barry's laughter echoed through the grimy hallway, following you like a shadow as you rushed toward the elevator. Each click of your heels against the worn floor seemed to mock you: Pretty. Proper. Corruptible. The words burrowed into your mind, mixing with memories of Rafe's heated stares and possessive touches.

Your mind kept circling back to Barry's words – "disappearing around Rafe Cameron" – like a moth drawn to a deadly flame. The phrase echoed in your head, mixing with memories of Rafe's possessive touches and hungry stares. Each floor the elevator descended seemed to bring a new question: How many secretaries came before you? Where did they really go?

The package felt heavier in your hands as you realized maybe it wasn't just cocaine Rafe was addicted to – maybe it was the thrill of watching people fall into his web, one pretty secretary at a time.

The elevator doors couldn't close fast enough. In its mirrored walls, your reflection looked different somehow – as if Barry's words had marked you, changed you. Your phone buzzed in your purse, Rafe's name lighting up the screen, and you realized with a shiver that maybe Barry was right. Maybe you were already corrupted – after all, here you were, picking up cocaine for your boss in a building that reeked of broken dreams and dirty money.

But that didn't mean you were corrupted by Rafe specifically… right? This was just part of the job. Just another task, like scheduling meetings or taking notes while he stared at you across the conference table. Just another "yes, sir" in a long line of things you told yourself were purely professional. Even if your heart raced every time he got too close. Even if you kept saying yes to things that crossed every line you'd ever drawn.

You were just doing your job. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

Back at Roots, you found Rafe alone, Rutherford's absence heavy in the air. His hands trembled as you passed him the package under the bar, his relief palpable. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and led you to the private bathroom in the back.

The fluorescent light buzzed overhead as Rafe arranged neat lines on the marble countertop. You turned to leave, but he caught your reflection in the mirror.

"Stay," he commanded softly. Then, more vulnerable: "Please."

You watched as he inhaled sharply, his body relaxing as the cocaine hit his system. When he straightened up, his eyes met yours in the mirror – pupils blown wide, but somehow clearer than before.

"Barry mentioned the money you owe him," you say carefully, your voice echoing off the pristine walls of the family restroom. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across Rafe's sharp features as he straightens up from the sink, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"You know what scares me?" Rafe suddenly said, his eyes never leaving you in his backward reflection. "Not the money I owe. Not my father. Not even my fucking addiction." His voice cracked perfectly, a rehearsed break he'd perfected over years of practice.

"I'm nothing but Dad's fuck-up son. A disappointment. A monster." He laughed bitterly, running a trembling hand through his hair. "And you… you're too good. Too pure. The way you look at me like I could be better…" His fingers traced your reflection in the mirror. "It kills me knowing I'll destroy you too. Just like I destroy everything else."

Your heart ached at his words. Without thinking, you turned to face him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "You're not a monster, Mr. Cameron. You're just—"

"Rafe," he interrupted, leaning into your touch. "Please… just call me Rafe."

You saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the pain, the self-loathing. It made you want to save him, to prove him wrong about himself. And that's exactly what he was counting on.

Because what you missed, in that moment of compassion, was the calculating gleam behind his tears. The slight upturn of his lips as you fell perfectly into place. The way his hand tightened possessively on your waist, marking you as his next conquest.

"I need you," he whispered against your palm, knowing exactly how those words would seal your fate. "You're the only one who sees me. Really sees me."

And as you whispered back words of comfort, of understanding, Rafe Cameron smiled into your hand – the same smile he'd worn when the last girl who tried to save him learned exactly what kind of monster he really was.

The bathroom's fluorescent light flickered once, casting strange shadows across his face. In that brief moment of darkness, his mask slipped, revealing something hungry and triumphant in his expression. But by the time the light steadied again, all you could see was the broken man you desperately wanted to fix.

After all, the best predators know exactly how to play wounded.

a/n: thanks for making it to the end of this chapter!! as always all likes comments, and reblog keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

Taglist -

@trapistani @alexxavicry @rafestoothbrush @ttrinity @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4rafey @Itristessedureratoujours @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @yoongling @lilithblackkk

[keferon]

Mecha headquarters is attacked. The building collapses. Blurr goes in and doesn't come back out. And Swindle's the one that's got to deal with the fallout. As far as nightmare scenarios go, this is pretty high up on Swindle's list.

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

Swindle only pulls his phone out of his pocket when he reaches the shadows off to the side of where rescue crews are digging through the rubble of mecha headquarters.  Digging they only started because Blurr, the face of mecha, went into that building and didn't come out.  Digging they are only continuing because they believe they've found signs of life buried in the rock.  Which is why Swindle's phone has been buzzing nonstop for the past several minutes.

He looks at the names next to the missed calls.  Shockwave.  Shockwave again.  Pharma.  Unknown number. (Shockwave?)….  The list goes on.

Swindle doesn't know how Shockwave or Pharma knows already, but they must.  Swindle's first call since Blurr disappeared under that ton of rubble had been to emergency services.  Every call since has been to call in favors, pull strings – exert as much influence as he can to keep the details of what's going on out of the news.  To keep the potential damage this could do to a minimum.

Somehow, it hasn't been enough.  Which means this situation is fast heading towards something more than what Swindle can handle on his own.

Swindle pulls a second phone from his pocket and hits the number on speed dial.

"Hello?" A voice answers within one ring of Swindle dialing.  Onslaught.  He relaxes slightly.

"You watching the news?"  Swindle skips over customary greetings, security measures – there's no time for them now.  He knows it is Onslaught on the other end of the line.  Onslaught will recognize it is him by his voice.  That much, they still have to be able to trust.

What exactly will be on the news, Swindle doesn't know.  But, it's a safe bet that at least some of the basics of the mecha attack will be broadcast.  Beyond that, it all depends on how much Swindle's contacts came through.

"Yeah.  Mecha was attacked.  They're saying no casualties, so why are you calling me?"  Onslaught asks.

"That's all they're saying?" Swindle asks in return. "No casualties?"

"That's all.  No casualties," Onslaught confirms.  "Showed some footage of the fighting.  Pretty standard stuff.  Cut in some impressive footage of Blurr's mech.  What's going on? Not that I'm not glad to hear personal confirmation you're not dead, but this line is for emergencies."

"There is one.  Shockwave."  Swindle says the name as though there's no further justification needed for why he's calling on this line.  And really, there isn't.  They had agreed to that from the start of this venture.  "He's been calling me.  Non-stop."

Swindle thinks he hears a soft curse on the other end of the line then, "Why would he care?  What's his interest?"

"Blurr," Swindle says.  "That footage, of his mech – was the actual fight.  A fight he never should have been in.  But he did it anyways because there was no other option.  He went into the building and he never came out.  He's the reason they're still here digging – the reason I'm still here."

"And the reason Shockwave's calling," Onslaught fills in.

"Yes.  Him.  And Pharma." Swindle adds.

"Pharma is a medic, you know.  With ratchet going more or less of the grid and First Aid and Ambulon tied up with Vortex he's the highest ranked medic in mecha.  It would be his job to supervise pilot injuries."  Swindle can tell even over the line that Onslaught doesn't really believe his own words.  But they need to make sure they've covered everything if they're going to stay ahead of this.

"He shouldn't know though.  I called in favors to delay the news of Blurr's status until after excavation is complete and you said yourself the news only confirmed no casualties yet," Swindle points out. "I've sent no internal communications.  Pharma shouldn't know yet.  He's too close to Shockwave.  Neither of them should know.  But they've both been calling since the collapse – within minutes of each other."

Swindle definitely hears Onslaught swear at that.  "I don't know exactly what the connection is between Shockwave and Pharma – but I don't want Pharma – or Shockwave – anywhere near this, anywhere near Blurr," he finishes.

"Blurr's alive?"  The question is stated matter-of-factly, though Swindle wouldn't have blamed Onslaught for expressing a note of skepticism.  If the man is still alive, there's no way he's walking away from this without serious injuries.  Swindle would bet every dollar in his accounts on it.

"Possibly.  There are signs of life under the rubble.  We paid Blurr to be the part of a hero for the media.  Turns out when it mattered it wasn't entirely an act.  He saved a lot of lives today – including mine."  If Blurr is pulled from that rubble alive, Swindle will give every dollar it takes from his bank account to ensure it stays that way.  They need Blurr.  More than he knows.

"I never told Blurr the truth behind why it was so important that mecha hire him," Swindle's voice drops as he says the words.

"I am not repaying what he did today by letting him find out firsthand whatever it is Shockwave does in those labs of his.  We're not going to sit back and watch the creation of another Vortex.  It was bad enough when we didn't know.  Now…. Right now, I need you to distract Shockwave and Pharma."

"How long do you need?" As Swindle had at the beginning of their call, Onslaught skips the unnecessary validation and asks the question that gets at the point.  It has Swindle breathing a sigh of relief.

"A few hours, minimum.  But I'll take anything you can give me, just stall them as long as you can.  I've got to go."  Swindle hangs up without waiting for Onslaught's reply.  A stretcher is being carried out of the ruins towards a waiting helicopter.

Swindle manages to make it onboard just before take-off.  He rides all the way to the hospital with Blurr.  Handles all the forms.  Tells the receptionists to put the bills on his card.  He knows (hopes) Blurr could do it when the time came (the man certain has the money; Swindle's been writing his checks) – but he shouldn't have to.  All Blurr should have to focus on is his recovery, and what comes next.  Blurr should have friends, family, a partner – someone to support him in this. 

Swindle knows – has known since early on in working with Blurr – that that is not the case.  He's observed enough to see that Blurr asks for help if he truly needs it, but no one just offers it to him.  Because no one knows to.  In this case, Blurr cannot ask, so Swindle manages instead.

In an ideal world, someone would stay by Blurr's hospital bed, simply so the man didn't have to wake up alone in unfamiliar surroundings with no explanations.  But this is not an ideal world.  And Swindle is not that person.  His time runs out long before then. 

Fresh blood has been spilled.  The predators are circling.  Swindle has a show to put on.  The best he can do is leave his card on the bedside table as a reminder and hope Blurr actually calls if he needs anything. 

I. LOVE THIS. SO FUCKING MUCH YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE

Absolutely in love with this conspiracy thing Onslaught and Swindle have going on. Because YES. OF COURSE. Gosh this is why I love Combaticons. They’re on their own side. Whatever system they are forced to be part of - it doesn’t have full control on them. They’re doing their own thing ehehehehhehe

[revelboo]

Hope you'll have a wonderful and safe holiday! Take it easy, relax and have fun! 💖💖💖

Thank you! You, too!

Blokees Vol 6 teasers. We’re getting G1 Sunny, Jackie, and IDW Megs- YES, please

Over it Now Pt 18

Jazz x Reader

• Big, warm servos flex against your hips as your mouth slides against his. Learning him as you feel his frame faintly trembling under you while you straddle him. And then his mouth is opening against yours, the kiss shifting to something needy that spreads molten through you. Becoming a promise as his glossa steals inside and he seizes control. His mouth dominating yours, sliding to the corner of your mouth, along your jaw, to your neck in a heated trail. And he’s murmuring softly, pressing warm kisses against you as you cling to him.

• Sliding a hand to the small of your back, he shifts and hears your surprised little sound when he gently lays you down and moves over you. “This okay, doll?” He asks, voice rough and it’s a relief when you nod, because he’s not sure he can stop now. Venting softly, he’s struck by how small you are compared to him, even mass displaced he dwarfs you. Splaying a hand against your middle, it’s a little unsettling and arousing how much bigger he is. A little shiver of fear in the mix that he might break you without meaning to. Caging you under him, his mouth claims yours again. Feeling your little hands gripping him, tugging at him like you’re as desperate to feel him against you as he is. Reminding himself to slow down, to not overwhelm you.

• Arching as his mouth slides against yours again, one of his hands catches yours and laces his servos with your fingers. And then he’s easing down against you, settling himself in the cradle of your thighs mindful of his weight. Mouth moving to brush against your throat, behind your ear as you shiver. Making you aware of his big frame pressed to you, the way he’s lazily rocking himself against you as he finds your ear lobe and his denta nip at you to make your breath catch. “Jazz, please.” Shivering under him, unsure what you’re asking for. Only that you need more. Of his hands on you and that wicked, lying mouth. Wanting him to lie to you now, tell you sweet nothings. That he loves you as silly as it is, and that thought is a like a misstep. Jarring you. Because When had that happened? When did you start to fall in love with him?

• “Please what, doll?” Lips skimming soft, warm skin, he wants to hear you say it. That you need him. Want him. Because the breathy way you just said his name? It’s strung him tight, his spike pulsing where it’s trapped. He’s shown you the real him behind the mask and you didn’t turn away. Accepted him. Releasing you, he splays that hand against you, servos teasing under the hem of your shirt. Tugging it up as he scoots down your body. Mouth brushing skin as it’s exposed. “Can I touch you here, kitten? You let me have that?” And you arch under him as if offering yourself up to him. “Let me make you feel good?” Because he’s aching for you, wants to be buried deep inside you. Wants to taste you, too. Hear you say his name like that again. Somewhere between a plea and a curse.

• “Don’t tease,” you groan, and he utters a husky laugh and yanks your pants and underwear down, getting caught on the cast and you nearly laugh at the look on his face. Managing to kick your other leg free, knowing the cast isn’t exactly sexy especially when your clothes are snagged at the top of it. And then you are laughing at yourself that you’re worried about your red panties stuck on the top of the cast while your, what, alien boyfriend is crouched between your thighs with everything on display. Is he your boyfriend? Friend with benefits? Before your brain can fall down that rabbit hole, he’s leaning over you and his mouth brushes your hip. Breath hitching as he shifts to stretch out between your thighs, all amusement gone. Tensing when lays his head against the inside of your thigh and touches you with his servos. Reminding you that you’re still as alien to him as he is to you. Wondering if your soft, slick flesh is unsettling to him as he strokes you. Making you self conscious, wanting to close your thighs, right your clothes and pretend this never happened. “Maybe we shouldn’t-” Before you can finish the thought, his head drops and his mouth presses against you there to make you arch with a startled sound.

Previous

[catsoupki]

i think that when bakugou confessed to you in UA, there were two possibilities. that’s it. he either confessed by pure accident, that could’ve been resulted by so many different reasons but i think the most probable would be denki getting bakugou drunk without his knowledge and suddenly all this tipsiness got to him—

syllables and fricatives slur out of his lips as he stretches like a cat across your lap— your best friend is flushed with alcohol while denki laughs his ass off, you’re put into a really awkward position. you try to lift him up, but a relaxed jumble of limbs is harder to manoeuvre, let alone the fact that they belong to a hero in training with 80 kg of mostly lean muscle mass.

“come on, katsu, come on, let’s go and get you in bed” grunts trace your breath along with pleads that go in one ear and out the other.

“nghh, no” some semblance of consciousness seems to have come as he drags you back down to the sofa, muffling your midriff with his body.

mina, eijirou and sero are all laughing at your pathetic attempts of dragging bakugou to bed but you have yet to give up.

“you need to sleep come onnn” you think that you’ll try one last time before surrendering him and yourself to this predicament until tomorrow morning.

bakugou is reluctant when you try to drag him upwards, instead he takes his hand and knocks on your chest like a door— “i like you, hey, listen,” for a brief second, you thought that your ears had fooled you and that his muffles weren’t really what you heard. but judging based on the rest of their reactions, it seems to be true, suddenly your palms are sweatier, your nape feels warm and you’re all too aware of the places at which he’s touching you now.

“mff.. i’ll go if you kiss me”

right now is the most awake you’ve been since midnight. chills shoot through your body at the image that was involuntarily concocted in your head, flushed, your body gives out and flops down from the couch into the floor with bakugou’s face burrowed into your neck. the warm, periodic soft breaths tell you he’s close to falling asleep.

“fine, fine, come on katsu”

then there’s the other way. by pure frustration or anger. your obliviousness has surely shattered his entire world when the hints mina told him that would definitely get you to know seemed to have failed in every sense of the world—

it was a tuesday, after lunch period, class 1A had been called to the grounds for a physical training session. sparrings had been going on for the past hour and everyone is beyond exhausted. bakugou is sitting next to you on the benches, heaving and downing a bottle of water like nothing. you two have just finished your round, turning the leaderboard to 11-9 with him in the lead.

when you look over you see the way his eyes dart around the current battle (between izuku and shouto), they’re glossed over— pulled in by the sheer weight of their movements. you know that in the depths of his mind, he’s analysing every step or twist of their bodies, exactly as if he’s right in the battle himself— this is what makes him so good: he’s working even when he’s resting.

chuckles leave your breath and they snap him out of his daze, “hah what you looking at, nerd?” he says without much bite, a grin that’s victorious and smug, “you!” despite just stating the obvious, you puff your cheeks out, proud that your remark had rendered bakugou temporarily speechless.

“tsk, you have no idea what you do to me, do you..” yes, although the grounds currently are shooting around with kicks that land with vigour, blasts that explode in people’s faces, somehow, you heard the whisper that was not meant for you.

“what do you mean kats?” tilting your head, you continue downing water whilst looking at him expectantly. suddenly, his face flashes red and the knuckles that wrap around his flask turn snow white.

“nothin’, forget it,” he brushes you off, engrossed in the match once again.

“aww kats, what are you hiding from me?”

“i said nothing, god damn it!” so adamant.

“you sure? it sounds like something.” you insist, teasing in your tone as you accompany bakugou to the bottle refill station.

“oh my days y/n how oblivious are you? even shouto figured it out last month, i’ve liked you since first year, you happy now?” he looks at you, and you really, really look at him. he’s flaring, frustrated, somewhat.

“i— what?”

[mydear-corinthian]

trouble sleeping

synopsis: you're having a hard time sleeping and spencer helps you

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering, implied insomnia, praise kink

notes: short <w.c 1000 | ib: natt-ice's p-link | divider by lavendergalactic

main masterlist | criminal minds masterlist

Sheets ruffling. Bed moving. Annoyed groans.

The gentle rustling noises behind him woke Spencer. He was startled out of his half-slumber by the little shuffle of movement and the rustle of blankets. With a sleepy blink, he rolled over and watched you squirming around to find a comfortable position. You shifted the pillows with a groan and fidgeted under the blankets, clearly frustrated.

"Hey, why are you still awake?" Spencer murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he propped himself up on one elbow. His body was now fully facing yours, eyes tracing the silhouette of your restless form in the dim light.

You mumbled, "I can't sleep," in a frustrated tone. "God, this is so annoying!" You pushed a cushion beneath your legs in an attempt to relieve some of the pain after yanking another pillow from the head of the bed but still no avail.

Spencer didn’t immediately respond. He just watched you, his gaze lingering on the frustration playing across your features. A soft scoff slipped from his lips, barely audible.

You let out a low groan as you shifted once more, desperate for some relief. The bed felt too warm, too cold, the sheets too tight, or too loose—nothing felt right. "Fuck this," you muttered, the words a bitter release, your head sinking into the pillow in exasperation.

After a few minutes of your boyfriend watching you suffer, he spoke up. "I have an idea. Statistics shows that you can sleep immediately after you exercise."

"Exercise?" your head rise a bit, looking at him questionably with the smirk that's planted in his face. "What exercise are you exactly talking about?"

Spencer smirked, perhaps enjoying the moment, but he didn't respond. He suddenly grasped your face with his palm, his thumb gliding over your cheek, his lips pressing softly but passionately against yours. Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, a breathless "oh" escaped your lips as a wave of warmth swept through you. You immediately put your arms around his neck and drew him in, kissing him more deeply as you both got caught up in the intimacy and the outside world faded.

"Mhm—" you let out a moan as his tongue worked with yours. Your fingers made its way to his hair, curling it in pleasure and then to his topless back.

The kiss was full of love, closeness, and lust. Spencer's lips pressed against yours, a mix of urgency and tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. As he deepened the kiss, his fingers began their slow, deliberate journey from your neck, trailing down to your stomach, exploring the soft curves of your body.

"May I?" Spencer asked softly as his hand rested on your shirt. You nodded in response and Spencer didn't hesitate to remove your t-shirt, leaving your bare chest exposed. He smiled at the sight before kissing you again.

"Spence.." you whispered. "Mhm—"

"Yes, baby?" he said in between kisses but you just moaned in response. "I need you to use your words, baby."

Your eyes pleaded, thighs shaking. "Need you, please.." you cried.

Spencer chuckled, bringing his fingers down to your white-laced panties before removing them slowly. His index finger rolled down to your sensitive clit, drawing figure of eights.

"Spencer— aah," you moaned, holding his upper arm tightly as you felt pleasure slowly waving towards you.

"So wet.. and sensitive, my love," he cooed.

As he slowly inserted a finger inside of you, you let out a gasp that echoed the shock and joy that filled your body. As the world around you seemed to melt away, your head sank back, giving in to the waves of pleasure that swept over you. Even though it was only a finger, it lit a fire inside of you. You spread your legs wider as he added another digit, pumping it in and out in a slow but steady pace. He held you tightly, your head resting on his other arm as he finger fucked you.

After a few more, Spencer's pace speeded up, hitting that spongy spot that made your back arch. "Aah— Spence—Fuck! Yes, yes, yes—" you chanted his name like a damn saint as you started to see stars when you closed your eyes.

"You like that, yeah?"

"Yes, Spen— aah!"

As he pumped in deeper, his lips catched yours. You kissed him back with full force while moaning in between kisses. The pleasure was overflowing.. and so was you.

Your core ached and clenched on Spencer's slenders. A familiar feeling coiled up your lower stomach, causing you to fully shot your eyes down and moan like crazy. Your legs shaked as his pace was getting harsher.

"I'm close," you ached.

"It's alright, baby," Spencer smiled as he purposely hit his palm on your clit. "I'm here, mhm? Cum on my fingers. Can you do that for me?"

After a few more, you came. His fingers were stained with your juices. You panted like a crazy madman as your legs collapsed.

Spencer pulled his fingers out and focused his eyes on you. Smiling, he kissed you again but this time, passionately.

"Remind me how that can make me fall asleep quickly?" you asked with a tired but satisfied sigh.

"Your body releases hormones like dopamine and oxytocin. They're responsible for making you feel less stressed, more comfortable, and can actually help you sleep. There's a saying, "It's the only sleeping pill with no side effects."

Spencer pulled the comforter up and tucked you in, smiling. "Thanks, Spence," you whispered as you kissed him on his cheek.

"Anytime, princess," he replied before the two of you dozed off, hugging each other tightly.

The next few days, you started to use this excuse on Spencer to get that pleasure that you want.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

ALL I WANT 4 CHRISTMAS .ᐟ

What are the jjk & aot boys doing this Christmas season?

Somehow, mistletoe is left in his wake like a trail of breadcrumbs. Nobody knows exactly how he acquired all of this, but as he continues to swerve the advances of anyone else he meets under the green and red decoration, his intent grows more clear. There's also a mysterious bundle of it in his pocket, which he explains as his "just in case" backup. Before you knew it he was taking you by the hand and leading you through the house, much less subtle at scanning the doorways above than he thinks. At first you're oblivious, wondering if someone had spiked his eggnog or something of the sort, but no. When he halts abruptly and you follow his gaze upwards, every oddity of his behaviour makes much more sense.

"Would you look at that? Mistletoe. Wonder how that got there."

You can still feel his proud grin against your lips, even after he kisses you.

⤷ Satoru, Jean

He’s lounging on the sidelines, eyeing you over the rim of his mug as you enjoy the winter day, unaware of his lingering eyes. The hot chocolate sears his tongue, but he can't find it in himself to react. How could he care, when you're laughing across the room? What was so funny? What was so special about those people that prevented you from talking to him? He's got plenty of other people gabbing in his ear, they always end up flocking to him, as odd as it seems. He only feigns interest in their words, but if it were you, he'd hold on to every syllable like they were life's greatest treasure. he'd take note of every shift, of every breath you took. But for now you were across the room and all he could do was stare, frozen in place.

⤷ Suguru, Eren, Toji

Ah, yes. The personification of Christmas, your very own worker elf at your side. Clad in a ridiculously festive sweater and some reindeer antlers, Santa Claus might as well have thrown up on him. You're sure that if it weren't for you, he'd be wrapped in Christmas lights and singing carols on doorsteps. "It's holiday spirit! Don't you like Christmas?" he'd say. He makes you out to be some sort of grump, but you know deep down that he's just a total dork.

⤷ Toge, Yuji, Connie

Your boy isn't one for grand gestures, he never has been. Even around the holiday season, his love is quiet; soft. His chunky sweater wrapped around your shoulders, a steaming mug in your hands because he noticed you were chilly. A batch of sugar cookies made just for you, icing of your favourite colour decorating the tops. A pretty little box with a ribbon tied into a bow (or at least it was supposed to be) atop it, even though you made him promise not to go out of his way more than he already has. He just can't help himself. A photo snapped of you when you're looking particularly docile, just for safe keeping. He looks at his little album of you when you're apart, but he doesn't tell you that part. His affection is a collection of small sweetness, like a box of trinkets filled with the little things you hold dearest to your heart.

⤷ Yuta, Armin

He’s doing all of the sappiest things without even realizing it. Who would expect this big, beefy oaf of a man to be so whipped? “Yeah, those decorations are really pretty. I’d rather look at you, though.” “Sorry for staring, baby. You just look so pretty. If you were the only present under the tree I wouldn’t mind.” He’s buying you reindeer plushies just because they’re cute, and when he gives them to you his eyes shine with something so sweet it’s hard to believe it’s him. So you take them, you accept all of it, every little thing teetering on the fence of cute and corny, because maybe that’s what love does to you.

⤷ Reiner, Choso

You know how I said Toge, Connie, and Yuji are the personification of Christmas? Yeah, he’s the grinch. No, he doesn’t need another candy cane. No, please don’t turn up the radio, if he hears another Mariah Carey song he might implode. It would be easier to hide his disdain if you weren’t so adamant, so pushy for him to “get in the spirits.” Get that damn hat away from him, he tells you he won’t allow himself to be subjected to your childish antics. But when the festive shine in your eyes dulls ever so slightly, when you retreat with a defeated huff, he doesn’t know what changes. He doesn’t understand why, but he knows he doesn’t like it. So he tugs you back with an annoyed huff, grumbling under his breath as he falls victim to your will. He always ends up doing that, somehow. Always ends up at your mercy, even though if it were anyone else he’d have blocked them out long ago.

⤷ Megumi, Levi, Sukuna

He seems like something straight out of a hallmark movie. Okay, maybe he isn’t as cheerful as your picture perfect husband, waltzing around like Buddy the Elf. Maybe he’s got that passive expression on his face, the one that’s just barely grown easier to read over the years you’ve grown to know him. But he’s cooking you meals and massaging your back, he’s sliding you his card over the kitchen counter before he leaves for work and telling you to do something nice for yourself. He doesn’t care, as long as he gets to see the results; see how happy they make you. He trusts you, he trusts that you’re just as his as he is yours, and that means all of his work benefits him just as much as you. Because he gets to see your face light up, see the subtle curl of your lips with every act of service, and knowing he’s the only one is well enough for him.

⤷ Kento, Erwin

a/n — I wrote this randomly at 4am because one of my mutuals asked if I was doing a Christmas special. Yes apparently I am. Also Gojo fit a few of these but I decided on that one :3 I was thinking about doing more fandoms but I’m not 100% confident in my characterizations for hq, hxh (been a HOT minute since I’ve watched), etc. so aot and jjk it is <3 most people are only here for jjk anyway so

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

TW: angst, abusive relationship (not with Simon), toxic relationship (that´s with Simon), bruises, he is kinda mean but can you blame him?, he is your ex, curse words, no proofread we die like real men, english is not my first language wc: 1168

1:54am

He opens the door at your fifth knock and his jaw clenches at seeing you.

You have a nasty handprint bruise on your neck and he is already fuming, at the bastard who did this, but also at you. Simon´s your ex, and something keep pulling you to him every time you need aid, but never taking him back completely.

This is not the first time you run to him and he is not happy about it.

He lets you in, but curses and slam the door behind him

Coming close he backs you up against the wall, forehead close to yours

"You have to be fuckin jokin´ with me..."

His voice trembles with anger, maybe not the best approach, but he is getting tired of keep collecting your pieces back together

You avoid his gaze, a bit ashamed. You lick your lips, with no urge to start talking. He is not dumb and he already imagined what happened. Tears run down your face and that seems to anger him more.

A bitter scowl etches on his face, he is mad for many of the wrong reasons, but he is trying damn hard to keep himself in check

"Is this some sort of sick game to play with me, hm?" He whispered, voice trembling with anger “You think I like seeing you like this?”

"No!" You respond quickly, finally meeting his gaze. You felt stupid because he is right to be angry. You´ll accept any scowl and curse coming from him because deep down you know you deserve them.

"Why else would you keep coming back every damn time only for you to go back to him? To test me and see how much I still care for you? Do you get off on doing this? Don´t I have enough shit in my life?"

There it is, the bitter words finally spilling out

"Simon please, I don't have anyone else, pleas…" You yelped when he punched the door, finally backing away from you, running his hands through his hair

"I left him...for good this time..."

He stops pacing and looks at you, he doesn´t believe you, that anger rising up inside of him, why was she still doing this and why he kept letting himself drag back into her? He feels stupid

"I've heard that before"

"I swear to god" You’re trembling at this point, desperate to get some gentleness.

You showed him the backpack you were carrying, talking in whispers

"I left him the flat, I grabbed what I could and left"

There is a pang on his chest, of guilt this time, the bruise around your neck is prominent and he can't help but to feel like this time is not the same as before. He wants to touch you, to make sure you are okay, but he doesn't trust himself not to hurt you unintentionally because of his anger

"Show me your neck" He finally says through gritted teeth, his tone of voice still stern

Tears start running freely now, but you cry in silence, ashamed. You pulled the hem of the neck of your t-shirt, showing the purplish marks over your throat and clavicle

He curses again before inspecting it more closely

His eyes darken at looking at the bruises, he knows exactly who is to blame and his blood boils with rage, he is going to kill him after dealing with you, he is sure of it. He touches the purple skin gently, barely a feather caress on it, checking them out

"Does it hurt?" His voice a soft whisper now

"Only when I swallow" Hugging your arms around your middle, you look around his flat, avoiding his gaze

He denies with his head, a million thoughts racing through his head. He is still sore for your break up a year and something ago, terribly bitter that you were able to left him for his "violent" line of work and the repercussions that it left on him, but not the bastard treated you like shit. Yes, he was damaged goods, but he´d never lay a finger on you

He has to stop himself from saying something stupid, he shouldn't be this close, feeling so many things at once

"Go have a shower... " he said, walking to the kitchen to pour himself a bourbon

Walking past him with your head low you make a beeline to the bathroom. You know his place very well, and the sting of the good memories here make you cry a bit more

After undressing you hop in the shower, letting the warm water wash away your tears. The smell of his soap envelopes you, making you feel more calm

Simon is a difficult man, the fact that he even let you in after you fucked up so many times says more about his feelings that anything

You reappear at the living room a while after, a dark blue towel covering you. You are pale with dark circles under your eyes, but it´s a better sight than before.

You noticed he got dressed with jeans too, and was smoking by the window when he hears you come back, he can't help it as his eyes travel over you, his own towel around you like you were his again. He has to bite his tongue, to stop himself from making promises and saying a million things he wanted to

"Did you eat?"

"I'm not hungry" You kneeled next to the sofa to grab some clothes from your backpack and he walks to grab a hoodie from the back of a chair, and you catch a glimpse of the hilt of a knife on his waist when he put it on over his head.

He looks immersed with himself, unapproachable

He turns his head to look at you again. Dove eyes, that beautiful face and that ugly bruise… God, he is so fuckin tired...

He put out the cigarette in the windowsill and put his gloves on, he does not trust himself right now, this is the reason why he needs to go and put distance between the two of you. Besides, there´s someone he needs to pay a visit…

"Go to sleep... " He said, voice strained

Getting up slowly, you approach him softly, placing your hand on his shoulder

"Why don't you..."

It's a mistake, because he shoves your hand away and strides towards the door, grabbing his mask from the hall table and putting it in his back pocket

"Go to the fuckin bedroom"

He slams the door on his way out, leaving you frozen in place, tears running down your face

-

You´ll find him the next morning, asleep on his couch. His nails are dirty and the hem of his hoodie is darkened with a reddish rusty stain. Next to the door are a couple of boxes with your all your stuff from the flat you shared with your now ex- boyfriend. Seems like Simon moved you into his own place last night.

Dividers are from @saradika-graphics Cosplayer: @mrghost.cos on TikTok

[justiceforvillains]

Misunderstood

The bell above the door jingled as you stepped into the little coffee shop inside your company, the warm air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Sunlight filtered through the windows, illuminating the rustic wooden tables and the eclectic mix of mismatched chairs. You loved this place; it was your escape, a perfect spot to unwind with a book or catch up with friends.

After ordering your usual, you settled into a corner table, your laptop open in front of you. Gripping your coffee, you attempted to concentrate on your work, but your mind kept wandering back to the whispers surrounding Hyunjin.

He had joined just last week, but already, suspicions clung to him like shadows, swirling in the air like the steam from the espresso machine. With his tall frame and striking features, he emanated an intensity that made people step back. The rumors—some claiming he had served time in prison, others hinting at a troubled past—buzzed around the café, igniting both fear and curiosity.

Despite the opinions swirling around you, you didn’t buy into the gossip. Your company was known for its integrity; they wouldn’t hire someone who didn’t deserve a chance. Yes, Hyunjin had an almost intimidating presence, with his buzz cut and fire-like eyes, but the truth was, judging someone by appearances was a simple mistake.

Sitting at your usual spot, fingers nervously tapping the table, you found yourself stealing glances at the new intern. There was something captivating about him, an unintentional allure thanks to a tattoo peeking from beneath his sleeve, only adding to an aura of mystery.

Today, your heart skipped a beat as you noticed Hyunjin stepping out from behind the counter, his eyes scanning the room with an intensity that sent a thrill through you. As he caught your gaze, a spark of connection ignited between you. You quickly returned to your screen, but it was too late; he was already approaching your table, energy crackling in the air around him.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly soft, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Of course,” you stammered, doing your best to appear casual, even as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

Settling into the chair across from you, he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “You look deep in thought. Working on a grand mystery?”

“Just… some projects,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to hold his gaze for long as the weight of the rumors lingered between you.

He studied you for a moment, his dark eyes filled with an intensity that made your heart race. “You know, people talk. I hear things,” he said, leaning back slightly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his directness. “Yeah, I’ve heard a few things.”

“Like what, exactly?” he pressed, curiosity shining in his gaze, the vulnerability of his tone pulling you in.

You hesitated, the rumors whirling in your mind. “Um… that you spent time in prison?”

He let out a soft chuckle, yet it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which held a flicker of something deeper. “That’s one of the nicer things people say about me.”

“Is it true?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, drawn in by the layers of mystery surrounding him.

“Does it matter?” He leaned forward, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive. “I’m here now; what I did before doesn’t define me.”

Your heart raced, understanding dawning on you. “But… people find it hard not to be scared when those kinds of rumors are flying around.”

His expression softened, like clouds parting to let sunlight break through. “I get it. Sometimes, when you look a certain way and carry a past, people jump to conclusions. But what if the true story is something entirely different?” His vulnerability swept over you like a gentle wave.

The weight of his words hung between you, pulling at your heartstrings. “Then I want to know,” you said softly, your heart steadying. “I want to see the real you, beyond the rumors.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes, and he leaned back, crossing his arms with a hint of amusement. “Not many people are willing to do that. Most would rather keep their distance.”

“Maybe they’re simply scared of what they don’t understand,” you suggested, feeling a surge of courage. “But I want to dig deeper. Sometimes, the most beautiful truths lie buried beneath the scariest stories.”

He smiled, his eyes lighting up with genuine warmth that made your heart flutter. “You really think there’s beauty in my past?”

“Perhaps,” you replied, newfound strength coursing through your veins. “We all have our shadows, but it’s how we choose to embrace them that defines us.”

Hyunjin regarded you thoughtfully, and you sensed the atmosphere shift; the tension dissipated, replaced by an unspoken understanding. “That’s a refreshing perspective,” he remarked, the admiration in his tone making you blush. “Most people don’t think like that.”

“Maybe they should,” you said, a slow smile spreading across your face, finding comfort in the connection that was blossoming between you. “You’re not who they think you are, and I can’t wait to uncover the layers of the real you.”

As the minutes passed, the initial fear that had surrounded him melted away, replaced by a warmth that radiated between you. Suddenly, Hyunjin laughed, breaking the moment. “What’s so funny?” he teased, his grin infectious. “The idea that a company like this would hire someone fresh out of prison?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, the jovial atmosphere engulfing you. “I thought the same! I knew it couldn’t possibly be true,” you admitted, unable to hide your embarrassment.

He chuckled again, his playful energy making your heart race. “The way you reacted when I sat down, though—I almost thought you agreed.”

✦ Masterlist ✦

[princesssarahblog]

bad habits - series - part 1

boyfriend!jj maybank x girlfriend!fem!reader

jj is your sweet boyfriend, but he has bad habits that lead you both to quarrels and misunderstandings

warnin: angst (happy ending) the reader is jealous of jj to kiara, a bit of a nervous reader, short!reader and wears high heels (sorry), smoking, drinking alcohol, quarrels and misunderstandings, shouting, separation for a while and then reunion

author notes: I don't know english very well, so I use a translator. I always write everything with a small letter and a small font because I feel comfortable that way

It was night. you was in your room at home. you was taking care of your feet, applying creams and ointments and then covering them with a plasters. you does this almost every night because you always wears heels because of your short stature. your window was open, you wasn't expecting anyone. but someone will definitely arrive

when you finished caring for your feet, you grabbed a book and decided to read it while sitting on the windowsill. you didn't want to sleep yet

a few minutes later, jj was walking down the streets, making his way towards your house. his hand was stuffed with cigarettes, hoping this would be the night he could finally talk to you after the last few days, he had been trying and trying to approach you but you had been very distant. a sigh came from his lips as he lit a cigarette, he could probably sneak into your room through the window. he stood outside the window, looking in, hoping you would notice him

turning his head to the right, he saw you herself. you was reading a book on the windowsill, he decided to scare you by grabbing your fragile shoulders and pressing you to himself.

you opened your eyes and looked at him in shock

"jj! you-"

but, you are shut up and a soft kiss is left on your lips, causing you to blush a little.

"hello to you too, baby" - the blond boy said with that beautiful smile that you love so much.

"ugh, you smoked.." you said with disgust, turning away to get some fresh air. you hates it when he smokes or drinks weed or alcohol, you was worried about his health.. especially since he comes home beaten up every day, because either kooks or his father do it

he sat next to you on the windowsill and placed his head on your shoulder. but you pulled away when he leaned in. this made him sigh. It was hard to talk to you lately cause you always had a bad reaction. "sorry" he mumbled

jj really didn't want to bother you, but since he was now so close to you, he could see the plasters on your feet and the scars that were starting to form. he felt really worried about you. because he knew how bad you would get when you was stressed out. "are you okay?" he asked cautiously.

"now yes" you suddenly grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and threw them out the window.

now you was happy, you knew that it was hard for him to buy cigarettes and that made you happy. you didn't want your boyfriend's health to get worse

jj's eyebrows furrowed as you threw his cigarettes out the window, causing him to sigh. he really needed them right now to calm his nerves, "hey! I needed those!" he complained.

"agh, you smoked weed with kiara again?" - you frowned when you smelled the weed on him. you were friends with kiara of course, but.. sometimes she got on your nerves.

「you was honestly jealous of jj for her」

this made jj look away from you. he didn't want to admit that part because he knew you'd freak out again.

"so what if I did?" he mumbled under his breath while getting a good look at her. he could see in your eyes you was jealous.

"you know, then you better go away. go back to kiara, to anyone. smoke, drink, do whatever the hell you want! i'm tired of this!"

you raised your voice, and distanced yourself from him again.

「you needed time」

jj's eyes widened when you raised your voice and got up. this is exactly what he tried to avoid, fighting with you. but every time, he somehow managed to do it.

"no, no, don't be like that.. please" he mumbled and grabbed your wrist so that you couldn't run off. he had difficulty saying words like "please" and his mischievous and cheerful character had completely disappeared.

"I'm sorry.. I.. I, we need time. I think.. it's best for us. please, you need to go." you softened and your gaze became more gentle, you looked up at jj with that warm and gentle look you always had on him. you raised your hand slightly, gesturing with it.

jj's gaze was heavy, he looked at you with seriousness on his face. when he is serious, he can seem scary. but, he will never hurt you. he nodded and left through the window, giving you one last look and disappeared into the night.

「you need time」

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Shooing skills

A/N: This was random! Hope you enjoy reading it :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: Jealous Tony = Hot Tony.

.

“I don’t know how you do it!”

“Huh? Do what?”

Tuning back into the conversation you were already done with, you tapped your shiny rock that sat on your ring finger against the glass of champagne you held, hoping the person opposite you would get the hint and leave you alone.

Apparently not.

Either he was too dumb to catch on or chose to ignore it completely and continue with his brazen flirting. The guy —whose name you hadn’t bothered to remember had cornered you, leaving you no room to escape, and you felt obliged to speak to him considering the donation he’d pledged.

“You’re literally an Avenger, and you’ve organised this event, plus I heard from someone that you paint too?” He went on, leaning closer in a way that bothered you.

“Umm. Yeah. Just a little..” You shrugged, eyes skimming across the room, looking for your man who was nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve got it all, Y/N. You’re truly an amazing woman.”

“Well, thanks. You’re kind.” You chuckled awkwardly, rubbing your bare shoulder which the man took as an opportunity to let his obviously lust-filled gaze roam all over your body.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you. Say you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

“Erm—”

“She is. Rather she was seeing me, for a year. Then I gave her that stunning rock which you haven’t noticed, and then she married me exactly thirteen months ago.”

Relief spread through your chest as a smile made its way to your lips, a firm tug pulled you closer against Tony Stark, your terribly handsome husband. The glare that guy was subjected to was much deserved as you watched him straighten up and clear his throat awkwardly.

“Oh! Tony, I—I mean Mr. Stark I had no idea—”

Tony dismissed him with a wave of his hand, using the other to bring your left hand up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“Don’t go bothering people’s wives now.” He called out, rolling his eyes as the fully grown adult of a businessman stumbled into a waiter before disappearing into the crowd.

“Nice shooing skills.” You straightening the bowtie he wore, smiling as Tony continued to eye the man who’d just hit on you.

“Thanks.”

“Though you made a mistake, dear husband.” You murmured, turning to him as he held onto your waist possessively.

“What?” For a flash second, Tony tensed up, unsure where you were going with this.

“You married me fourteen months ago.”

Exhaling in relief, he gave you a winning grin, leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

“Baby, in my head we were married the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Such a liar.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Finishing your drink, you shook your head before Tony pulled you closer, clearly feigning hurt at your reaction.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Tony, I literally had to drop so many hints before you finally mustered up the courage to finally ask me out.”

It was true. It took him months to admit to his growing feelings towards you before he finally knocked on your door one day to ask you for dinner. “The team is out for the night and I was wondering if you were the sort of person who eats dinner?” Were his exact words as you recalled. It was cute and rather hilarious watching Iron Man all flustered.

“Hey! I can’t be a genius when it comes to all things. Give me break! Besides, you agreed to marry me. Not Mr. Random Romeo over there. Me.”

Giggling, you pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, watching his eyes narrowing as he spotted that man wandering along the halls again.

“Yes, I did. My hero.”

It was kinda hot watching your husband get all jealous, not something you’d see often considering most people were well aware of the fact that you were Tony’s girl.

“Why do you attract these schmucks?” Tony wondered out loud, grabbing your hand as you made your way through the crowd. It would be a long night and messing with your husband never seemed like a better idea.

“Mm. Believe me, I keep asking myself the same question some days.”

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT blurting out a confession

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘requesting seventeen and when they finally blurt out that they love you for the first time? :) love your writing <3’

Blurts it out at random and wants to hide right away - Joshua, Jun, Seungkwan

He’s really afraid it’s too soon or that you don’t feel the same, or both. So he’s been biting his tongue for weeks now, but it’s eating him alive. You catch him looking at you, totally dazed, and you ask if he’s okay. His mouth moves before he can think, admitting that he loves you. But his brain catches up pretty fast, and he’s throwing his hand over his mouth with wide eyes. “Can we forget I said that?” Please smile and say no just to watch him melt. 

Blurts it out at random and owns it - Jeonghan, Hoshi, DK, Vernon, Chan

Also looking at you, sort of dazed, and when you ask, he just speaks before thinking. Might have a little ‘oh’ moment in his head, but he’ll pause once the confession is out there and wait patiently for whatever you have to say. There’s really no point in trying to retract it now. He’s really not ashamed of it. He just wanted to tell you in a more thoughtful way. Please tell him his random confession is cute because how could it not be? 

Blurts it out in anger - Seungcheol, Woozi, Mingyu

Ooo, I’m such a sucker for this concept. You guys could be in some sort of limbo between dating or not, and he gets jealous. You’ll press him about why he’s so annoyed that you were talking to someone else, and he’ll just explode, the confession spilling out more aggressively than he ever wanted it to. But once the confession is out there, he won’t deny it, and it might take some convincing that you love him too, if only because he’s still simmering with jealousy. He’ll be so soft in no time, though. 

Are you kidding? He’s not blurting anything - Wonwoo, Minghao

I’m so sorry, but these two will never just randomly spill a confession like that. I think it could be fairly obvious by the way he looks at you sometimes, but you will not hear the words from his lips until he’s really ready and thought it through. The confession will be sweet and honest, even if he spent days rehearsing exactly what he wanted to say to convey how he felt, waiting for the right moment to finally say it. But no, no blurting for them, I fear. 

[leighsartworks216]

Worship

Sylus x fat!fem!Reader

I am a firm believer in Sylus with a fat partner and nothing will change my mind on this

Warnings: mentions of being fat, mentions of a fupa, dresses, teasing, kissing, biting, bruises mentioned, spicy but not full smut

Word Count: 739

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

"Are your eyes closed?" you call out from behind the divider.

Sylus's fond chuckle reaches your ears like one of his many vinyls, beautiful but with a slightly roughened quality that makes it feel special. "Yes, sweetie," he calls in return. "My eyes have been closed for the last five minutes."

You roll your eyes. "They have not!"

"Careful, kitten, or I'll open them right now."

"Okay, okay! Keep them closed!" He hums his acquiescence.

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror. The black dress you bought with your own card (and bribed Mephisto not to spoil) sits beautifully on your body. Two slits along the sides reach up to your waist, exposing the flesh of your hips and thighs, all the way down your legs. The front hangs precariously between them, barely leaving anything to the imagination. With a low cut neckline, your cleavage is on full display, practically pouring out over the supportive cups.

You look gorgeous, but you can't help feeling a bit nervous. You're not exactly skinny; certainly not the body type they imagined this dress would be worn on. But you couldn't resist! You'd grabbed it on a whim, and when you tried it on in the store, all you could think about was Sylus's reaction to it. It's like nothing you've ever worn before. You just hope he'll like it.

With a deep breath, you step out from behind the divider. "Okay," you say, far more breathless than you want to. "You can look now."

If you could have recorded his face, oh gods above.

When his eyes opened, they latched immediately onto you, slowly raking up and down your form, determined not to miss a single detail. Which was all well and good, but his expression.

That smug smirk of his fell into an open-mouth gape. You knocked his smirk clean off his face! Not only that, you can see the way his throat bobs, swallowing his saliva as he tries not to absolutely drool over you. You take a step forward and his eyes rocket down to watch the fabric as it exposes your leg. His eyes are dark as sin when they finally meet yours again.

"You look ravishing, kitten," he purrs, voice low. He holds out a hand, legs spreading to make room for you. "Come here."

You bite your lip to try hiding the giddy grin that wants to break out. Every step is tracked by him, following the flow of the dress. You think he nearly loses his mind when it slips to the side just a hair further than before and exposes the precious skin of your fupa.

You take his hand. He guides you down to sit on his leg. One hand supports your back, but the other lets go of yours and glides up the expanse of your thigh, from your knee to your hip. He presses featherlight kisses to your collarbones with a soft groan of appreciation. "Do you like it?"

"Like it?" He nips at your skin. "My beloved, if you could see a fraction of my thoughts right now..."

"Hm. So you don't like it?" you tease.

He growls, biting more firmly at the skin of your neck as he grips like a lifeline at your thigh, forming divots under his fingers that you hope will bruise. His hot tongue laves over the imprint of his teeth, drawing delicious sounds from your throat. "Do I have to spend the rest of the night showing you just how much I adore this on you?"

"On me?" You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly as he trails kisses and nibbles along your jaw. "You're acting like you want to rip it off of me."

"Mm, not tonight." His hand releases your thigh to slip under the dress. He starts at your stomach, feeling the warmth of your body, the heat you radiate with every kiss and caress. But soon he trails lower, over your curves and folds, until his long fingers are sliding along your wet slit, unimpeded with your lack of underwear. He nearly moans at the feel of you coating his hand, as you try to shift your hips to chase after the friction he so willingly provides. "Tonight, I want you just like this," he whispers, breathing heavily with want as he sucks at your earlobe. "My beautiful angel...

"Will you let me worship you?"

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[drizzysbabigirl]

T0dd13rWh0r3! <3

(CW: Fauxcest, daddy x daughter incest, p3dophi1la, and loli)

🎀 I still remember the very first time daddy touched my little cunny! I was just 5 years old! :3 🎀

Daddy just finished up bathtime with me! He layed me down on the bed exsposing my naked body to his gaze. Perverted thoughts fill his mind at the sight of my small, soft, little underage body, and my tiny puffy hairless little underdeveloped cunny, and his adult dad cock starts to get hard. He uses his finger to rub my tiny little clit around in circles.

"Ahhhhheee!!" I let out something between a squeal and a cry as I feel my daddy start to touch my little clit. It tickles and feels funny but at the same time it also feels good. My small cunny starts to get wet. I've never felt anything like this before! But daddy can tell that I do like it. Even if my mind is too young and dumb to realize exactly what's going on.

Daddy smirks as he hears his little girl squeal, my high pitched babyish is voice music to his pedo ears. He intends to exploit my innocence thoroughly, to turn me into his perfect, depraved, little 5 year old slut. He continues rubbing my tiny, underdeveloped clit, feeling it swell and stiffen under his touch. His finger glides easily through the slick wetness now coating my tender folds.

"Shhh, it's okay kiddo," He coos, his voice dripping with false reassurance. "Daddy knows this feels new and funny. But it's supposed to feel good too, isn't it? Doesn't your cunny feel all warm and tingly?"

I nod panting softly. My small lips parted slightly as I look up. My little body squirming underneath him. "Y-yes dada..i-it fweels...it feels good!" I cry out, my face scrunched up as the tingly feeling starts to build. I'm about to have my very first orgasm ever! "D-dada? D-dada??!! I-I fink something is happening down dere!!" I say as I start to shake more.

Daddy grins evilly as he feels his little daughter trembling and shaking beneath his touch, my toddler body already responding to the unfamiliar but pleasurable sensations.

"Yes, that's it baby girl, let it happen!" He demands, rubbing my swollen little clit harder and faster, feeling my little cunny gush onto his fingers. "Don't fight it, sweetie. Daddy wants to feel you shake and quake and cum for the very first time!"

Then, with a final high pitched cry, I cum for the very first time. My body shaking, and my little cunny spasms and sprays my princess juices everywhere.