#ask us if you want... or no... we are lazy

[ttjisung]

lover is a day. na jaemin

ex!jaemin x fem!reader

in which jaemin tries his best to make it up to you after months of being apart.

cw: smut ofc... mdni! riding, missionary, he cries while he's inside, p in v (it's not mentioned but they use protection), hurt no comfort :/, angst, the ending isn't happy beware... (wc: 2.8k)

It had been two months and three weeks since Jaemin had seen you, and it felt like he was going insane. Admittedly, it was his fault, considering he was the one who invited you over one night to randomly break up with you after a year and a half together. He wasn’t sure why he did it, all he knew now was how badly he regretted it.

Jaemin was unaware of how boring life would be without the long rants about your favorite show, the lazy naps you’d take together cuddled up, the homemade meals that he tried desperately to recreate in hopes of reigniting past memories – he painfully realized that they didn’t taste the same without you. 

The intention behind his actions was never to cut you out of his life completely, he just felt suffocated at times. You were affectionate, which was an attribute he was once obsessed with; you never failed to make him feel loved, yet it eventually became too much, making him feel as though he was trapped. 

Jaemin could recall the night it happened. He had been at his university’s library, trying to study for an upcoming quiz and it proved difficult when his phone kept buzzing with new messages. He was frustrated, to say the least, when the people around him began to share judging side-looks at the noise. After two more annoyingly loud notifications, a stupid video of a pair of cats hugging with an accompanying ‘us’, he was done. Aggressively stuffing his textbooks back into his bag, he typed out a message asking you to come over before entering his car and speeding to his apartment. 

When he first opened the door for you, you were sporting a smile, immediately throwing your bag on the couch to rush in for a hug. He didn’t reciprocate when you wrapped your arms around him, and after an awkward sequence of pulling away and looking up at him, you noticed the unfamiliar scowl on his face. “What’s wrong?” You immediately asked, stepping closer to place your hands on his face. The action set him off, and before he knew it, he was ripping your hands off of him, whispering the words under his breath yet loud enough for you to hear. I think we should take a break. 

The guilt came almost instantly, seeing you shakily cry as you wiped tears off, reluctantly stepping away from him and leaning over the couch to grab your bag. You never said a word, simply nodding and shuffling to the door to leave. As Jaemin remembers that night, he wishes you would have said something. He wishes you would have yelled at him, acknowledged the fact that he just wanted a break – nothing permanent, begged him to take his words back, anything, yet you did nothing. 

It only took ten minutes for the realization that you were gone to kick in, and his regret to activate as well. He was quick to find his phone, trying to call you and make you come back, so he could apologize and you could be happy together again, yet you didn’t answer his calls. He tried to reach out to you everywhere he could, texting you on every app, calling you on other people’s phones once the paranoia that you might’ve blocked him blossomed, yet all he was met with was radio silence. That was when his depression kicked in.

Jaemin wasn’t eating well, he wasn’t sleeping well, he began to skip out on the gym, and eventually even missed his lectures that he once stressed about eagerly. He didn’t have the motivation to do anything, not when you were out of his life and there was nothing he could do to fix it. Every night, he’d open his phone and scroll past the countless unanswered messages he had sent you begging you to come back, until he’d reach the video of the cats you sent him. He’d embarrassingly watch it on repeat all night, silently crying into his pillow as he realized he could’ve been hugging you like the cats were right now, instead of basking in the loneliness of his cold, messy bed. 

He hadn’t fucked anyone since you – he’s not fully sure he’d be able to even if he tried. Every night, he’d lay in bed with his hand lazily stroking himself, his eyes emotionlessly staring at his ceiling as he tried to feel something, yet it never happened. The only times he was able to cum was when he’d reopen his folder of pictures you had sent him when you were together. After a month, it began to feel creepy so he stopped. He didn’t dare erase the photos though, afraid he’d forget how you looked after a while, so he hid the folder instead. 

It was a rainy day when Jaemin decided to go out again for the first time in a while. The sky was gloomy and grey as his feet led him towards the closest local cafe. His plan of ordering a scone alongside a coffee to take home quickly deteriorated when he stepped into the room, his eyes immediately landing on you. You were alone in a booth, typing something quickly on your laptop while taking a sip of a drink. Jaemin’s heart clenched at the noticeable tired look in your eyes. You looked as miserable as him, probably even worse considering he broke up with you. 

You looked sad, and before he could even think about it, Jaemin rushed up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. He didn’t like the way your expression shifted to panic when you looked up at him, nor did he like the way you lightly shook with nerves as you let out a tiny hi. He felt bad, knowing this was the first time you had ever regarded him with such hesitance. It was your pained expression that reminded him that he was the bad guy in your story, and it made him regret ever even thinking of ending things.

“Hey… It’s been a while.” You awkwardly nodded at his words, avoiding eye contact. Truth be told, you were far from moving on, a part of you shocked because you never thought you’d see him again. You were embarrassed about the ordeal, remembering how annoyed he looked during the last hug you had given him. It made you want to cry when his harsh words would spiral in your head, looping over for hours. You weren’t ready to see him, you didn’t think you’d ever be. This didn’t stop Jaemin from taking the seat in front of you, staring at you intensely with pleading eyes. “Can… Can we talk?” You didn’t want to, but it was hard to decline when he was already leaning over the table, his hands twitching with a desire to reach out and hold yours. 

You nodded your head, appeasing to his request just how you did when he mentioned the break. He breathed out loudly when you agreed, his body flooding with butterflies – this was his chance to apologize and convince you to take him back, and he would rather die than mess it up. 

“How have you been?” He treaded lightly at first, offering small talk to ease you into the conversation but the efforts had the opposite effect as they made you feel more nervous than before. You opted for a small fine, before asking him the same question. Jaemin mirrored your response, neither of you acknowledging the irony behind the answer - the both of you were far from fine. 

“I’m not sure where to start, but I miss you, N/n. So, so much. I… I don’t know if you’ve been getting my messages?” He stopped for a second to gouge your reaction, yet you didn’t respond, looking down at your lap instead with a frown, “I get it. I was really mean, but… But I’m so sorry. I regret it so much, and I want to make it up to you. I really haven’t been the same without you.” You continued to look at your lap, dissociating for a second as you tried your hardest to hold in the tears slowly forming. It was a battle you lost as they began to flow down your cheeks. Jaemin’s heart dropped when you finally looked back up, your eyes swelling up. 

He moved his hands quickly to hold your face, placing his upper body over the table to stabilize himself before he wiped your tears away desperately. You shouldn’t have, but you let him, even leaning into his touch when his movements grew stronger.

The next hour passed in a blur as he moved next to you, letting you cry into his arms for as long as you needed to, walking you back to your apartment when you realized the small cafe wasn’t the place to break down in. You're not sure if it was your loneliness, or the fact that you hadn’t slept with anyone else either, yet you found it easy to melt in his hold as he led you to your bed, placing you down gently.

Jaemin knew this was probably his last chance to convince you to come back with him, yet the hope fluttering in his heart quickly overshined the fear of losing you for good. He let himself drift away from his conflicted emotions as he passionately kissed down your neck, dragging his hand towards the hem of your shirt until he was able to pull it right off. 

You gasped as he lowered himself onto your body, kissing and sucking anywhere he could. It had been so long, and he refused to let any doubt cloud either of your minds. He became determined, deciding the only way he could show you how much he missed you was to fuck you senseless. 

“Need you so bad, baby. I… fuck, I really missed you.” His warm words contrasted the way he moved you around roughly, stripping your clothes off quickly along his as his hands found your waist, pulling your bare body on top of his. 

Jaemin’s back was pushed against the headboard, strands of hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead as he pulled you into a heated kiss on his lap. You reciprocated, smaller hands finding the way to his shoulders, scratching them harshly as he finally pushed into you completely. His moves were calculated yet eager, thrusting into you like his life depended on it – in a way, it did. He knew that if he messed up and ruined the moment, you’d probably decide to avoid him again. 

The thought began to plague him as he ran a hand up your waist, holding you in place as it moved towards the small of your back. He put pressure on your skin, pushing you as close as you could be to him, which made you shift. Jaemin’s mouth opened widely as a moan escaped him due to the added friction when you moved on top of him. 

The familiar feeling of his climax began to flood his mind as he continued to buck his hips into you, pushing his hard cock sloppily inside of your cunt, forcing your back to arch into him. He was so close, too close, when his mind began to run, replacing all of his worries with the overwhelming love he felt at the moment – he finally had his soulmate back.

Perking up, Jaemin leaned into your neck, offering small words of affection alongside his deep thrusts. “I’m so happy you’re back, I haven’t been able to do this without you.” You leaned away from him, nodding your head, “Me neither… I…” You struggled to speak as his pace grew harder, clenching around him in a way that had his mind reeling, “I… Wish this wasn’t the last time.” Jaemin’s hips faltered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he came to a stop. “W-what?” 

You frowned at the way his actions stilled, trying to initiate contact by grinding against him yet failing as his large hands moved back onto your hips, pulling you down onto him to stop you completely as well. “Jaemin, what are you doing-” “What do you mean last time?” His voice was frantic, along with his wide eyes that were trying to find yours. 

“Why did you stop-” “Y/n, please… What do you mean by last time?” The panic in his voice grew as he moved his face in an attempt to get closer to you. His feelings began to spread to you as you pushed yourself away from him, trying to further the distance. “I just… Well, you broke up with me so… We can’t do this again, you know?” You tried to appear calm and collected, yet the grip he had on your hips increased, and his breath grew uneven. 

When you finally gained the courage to look back at him, his head was shaking, small tears swelling in his eyes as he mindlessly sniffled. There was a flip in the atmosphere as he began to cry out, “Y/n… Baby please, you can’t do this. I-I love you… This can’t be the last time.” He was disheveled, holding your body as close as he could. Your arms that rested on his shoulders hesitantly moved until you weren’t touching him anymore. You weren’t hugging him back. The choked sobs he let out festered in the air as he held you tightly, your arms unsure of where to go. It felt like hell for Jaemin – maybe he was being punished for what he did to you, the ironic scene reminding him of when he refused to return your affection, taking it for granted and not realizing that he would be deprived of it for too long. 

“I thought you knew we… We weren’t going to get back together.” Your quiet words did nothing but tear his heart more, the finality in your tone feeling like a punch to his gut. It wasn’t until you began to shift uncomfortably that he noticed he was still inside of you, his hands not letting you go.

“I can show you, baby… I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” Jaemin begged you to consider what he was saying, an anxious pit in his stomach forming when you didn’t respond. It was then that he finally moved again, this time gently as he shifted the both of you around until you were under him. 

You hummed lightly in surprise as his hips met yours again, his rough pace now completely replaced by softer movements when he leaned down into you, his face hovering right above yours, eyes drilling into your own. His lips met yours, passionate yet caring as his cock pushed in and out of you slowly. It was hard to act like you couldn’t hear the small I love you’s he muttered beneath his breath with every snap of his hips. One arm being used to balance on top of you, his other moved to your face, cupping your cheek.

The way he fucked you tenderly reminded you of when he’d come home from a long lecture, releasing his stress by making love to you. It was intimate, something you had forgotten about during the months you were apart. You tried to ignore the way tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing with your own. You tried to ignore the way he held you closely as you both came. The hardest part to ignore was after, when he moved to lay next to you on the large mattress, holding you close how he used to when you were together. You missed it as much as he did, yet the weariness never faded as he cuddled into you, refusing to leave until you both fell asleep. 

Jaemin felt his world collapsing when he woke up to an empty bed, the lack of your warmth imminent. Your room was silent, the small chirps of a bird outside of the window providing the only noise he could hear as he stood up frantically, searching for you. You weren’t there, though, as he fell back into your bed, tears overwhelming him again. 

With labored steps, it took Jaemin an hour to find the effort to finally get up and leave your apartment. He took the familiar key from under your doormat, locking the door behind him. His movements were sluggish, similar to how he had felt ever since you slipped away from him the first time. 

It wasn’t until he finally reached his own home that he let himself go, tears falling rapidly as he threw himself onto his own bed, clutching the pillow on the right side of the mattress – what used to be your side. He had refused to even touch the pillow before, fearing the comforting scent of your perfume would disappear, yet now he couldn’t hold himself back, clutching the fabric in his arms as he tried his best to imagine it was you he was caressing. The pillow laid flat against him, resembling the way your arms draped next to you when he hugged you close for the last time, unreciprocated and cold.  

a/n: if any of you have read my other stories you’ll think i’m real repetitive bc i’ve overdoneeee the hell out of this trope it’s getting out of hand… that being said i might make a part 2 with a happy ending if the people ask for it :3

[whor3ing]

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝑴.𝑺

― 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃

Matt Sturniolo! x f!reader

WARNINGS : smut in a bathtub, super sweet!, worshiping your tits - sucking/kissing, established relationship, masturbation, making you touch yourself for him, fingering, lots of dirty talk & praise, usage of slut & good girl

word count : 3.1k ♡

― Matt Sturniolo treats you like you’re everything. Ever since you met him, everyday, he traces your skin like you’re something sacred, his eyes always full of nothing but admiration and love, all for you.

Every touch, every word, every breath with him is pure devotion—like you’re the only thing that matters to him, because in his eyes, you are.

It’s in the little things he does that he seems to wordlessly tell you just how much he loves you—the way he ran this bath for you the second you had texted him about how bad your day had been. How, without you even asking he carefully tested the water to make sure it was just right, adding extra bubbles for you just because he knows you like them.

He knows you so well—knows that after a long day, a warm bath is exactly what you need. And he knows you’d want him with you too, so he slips in too, settling behind you without a word.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you close as if he never wants to let go. His fingers trace slow, lazy circles on your skin, his touch light but intentional. Every so often, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm against your damp skin—a silent reminder that he’s right here, exactly where you need him to be.

“Y’good?” he asks, his voice soft as he rests his chin on your shoulder, his fingers gently brushing through your hair.

You hum in response, leaning into him. “Yeah... this is perfect.”

He smiles, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “I got you. Always.”

You close your eyes, letting his calming presence surround you. The tension from the day starting to melt away with every gentle touch, every kiss. His hands move slowly over you, soothing and patient, like he has all the time in the world to savor you.

"Tell me about your day," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wanna know.”

You sigh, the exhaustion still heavy in your chest, but it feels different now—lighter, as if Matt’s presence alone is enough to make the world feel less overwhelming.

“It was... a lot,” you say softly, your voice barely audible, “but now, it’s better.”

He nods as he listens, his fingers still tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. After a moment, he leans in, pressing his lips to your neck before speaking softly.

“Yeah, I get that. My day wasn’t much better,” he chuckles lightly, the sound low and comforting. “Filming for the channel today was a mess—tons of takes, trying to get the intro right, you know, the usual. It’s always a bit more chaotic than it looks.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, but there's a weariness there too. “By the time we were done, I just wanted to get out of there, y’know? But I knew I’d come home to you, and that was the best part of the whole day.”

You smile softly, leaning back into him, the weight of his words grounding you even more. As his hands move from your shoulders to your thighs, you shiver slightly at the contact, feeling the heat of his touch through the water.

“I get that,” you whisper, “coming home to you makes everything a little easier.”

Matt’s hands move gently over your thighs, his touch both soothing and possessive. He tilts his head, brushing his lips against your skin again, this time closer to your ear.

“I wanna help let go of all of that stress," he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “Forget about everything that’s been weighing you down today... Just focus on us baby, right here, right now, i've got you."

You close your eyes at the sound of his voice, the desire between you both. His words send anticipation through you, and you can’t help but let out a soft sigh.

“Matt…” you breathe, relaxing in his arms. His eyes are dark, intense, like he’s already lost in the moment, and the way he’s looking at you makes everything feel even more intimate.

He smiles, that knowing smirk that always seems to make your heart race. His hands travel further up your thighs, moving in slow, deliberate strokes that make you lean into him even more. “Just relax for me, baby. We'll make you feel so good."

Matt smirks as he leans in to kiss you, turning your head, slow and tender, like he’s savoring the moment. His lips are warm against yours, and the kiss soon turns deeper, hungrier.

His hands are everywhere now, guiding you with every touch. You can feel his tongue against yours as his lips part, his hand sliding to your cheek as you lean back against him, his thumb brushing against your jaw softly as he pulls you even closer.

You smile with his lips against your as you feel his fingers trail up and down your body, hovering above your lower abdomen, so close to where you need him most.

Matt pulls away just enough to look into your eyes, his lips curling into a small smile. His hand hovers dangerously close to your pussy, his fingertips brushing the edge of your lower abdomen.

"You want me to touch you here?" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Tell me you need it, and I'll give it to you."

You feel your breath catch as his hand lingers, just inches from your slick folds, his fingers tracing soft hearts against your skin as he waits for you to reply.

"I... I need you, Matt," you whisper, your voice shaky with anticipation. "Please, touch me."

He chuckles low in his throat, the sound a mix of satisfaction and something darker. "You know you're gonna have to beg for it," he says, his fingers grazing your skin, making you shiver. "I need to hear you say it."

You feel your cheeks flush, your heart pounding in your chest. But you can't hold back anymore. "Please," you whisper again, this time with more urgency. "Touch me. I want you so badly."

"Aw, baby.." Matt chuckles, "You're so cute.. my sweet girl." His fingers brush against your skin, trailing up from your abdomen up to your tits, causing you to whine.

His fingertips find your nipples as his chin burrows into your shoulder so he can watch his hands work, his index fingers skim over them both and rub against them softly. "It's too bad, but I just have to play with these pretty tits first, baby.."

"You like when I rub these pretty tits for you, don't you sweetheart? Can't get enough of me." His voice is low, taunting, as he gives your nipples a pinch, making you gasp as he pulls them gently, enjoying toying with you.

Matt's hand moves, his fingers wrapping around each of your tits with a firm grip, squeezing them as he groans. "God, these are perfect," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. His thumbs brush over your nipples again, teasing them, his mouth watering.

“God.. turn around, baby.” He murmurs suddenly, his voice firm. Your breath hitches, heat rushing to your wet pussy at his command.

You hesitate only for a second before shifting, turning around just as he wants. His hands help guide you, steadying you as you settle onto him, your legs move around him so that you sit against his lower abdomen, so fucking close to his cock.

“Just like that,” Matt groans, his hands immediately finding your waist, gripping you possessively. His lips ghost over your stomach as he sits you up, his face right in between your tits, his breath warm against your skin. “Now, let me play with you properly.”

One of his hands slides up your torso, fingers teasing your nipples again as his other hand grips your hip, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “So fucking perfect,” he mutters, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “You feel good like this, don’t you?”

Matt hums in satisfaction, leaning in, his breath hot against your neck. “You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with lust.

Without warning, he shifts, his grip tightening on your waist as he tilts you slightly. Then, his tongue flicks over your nipple, slow and deliberate, sending so much fucking pleasure through you.

You gasp, your fingers gripping him for support as he drags his tongue over you again, this time swirling around the hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth, his saliva coating your nipples. The wet heat of his tongue combined with the light pressure of his teeth makes you whimper. He hums against your skin, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples, very clearly enjoying the way you react to him.

Matt pulls away slightly, blowing cool air over the sensitive peak before licking it again, rougher this time. “God... these tits are so good," he smirks, glancing up at you through hooded eyes. “So fucking sensitive… I could do this all night.”

Matt pulls back with a wet pop, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip as he watches you squirm in his lap. His hands never stop moving, even with the loss of his mouth, one still kneading your breast while the other drifts lower, fingers grazing over your stomach, teasing you.

“You’re shaking, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “So desperate, huh?” His fingers trail lower, stopping just short of where you need him most.

But instead of giving you what you want, he grabs your wrist and guides your hand down between your legs.

“Go ahead,” Matt rasps, his voice thick with command. “Rub that pretty fuckin' pussy for me.”

You hesitate, but his grip tightens on your wrist, pressing your fingers firmly against yourself. “C’mon,” he coaxes, his lips grazing your jawline. “I wanna feel you touch yourself while you sit on me like this.”

His hand remains over yours, guiding your movements at first, pressing your palm down harder as you begin to move, urging you to rub your dripping folds for him, urging you to make yourself feel so good, all while he plays with your tits.

“That’s it,” Matt groans, his own breath turning ragged as he watches you. His free hand slides up your thigh, squeezing possessively. “Such a good slutty girl… making yourself feel good for me,” He groans, his mouth hovering right over your nipple before he speaks again, the sound muffled as he takes your right breast into his mouth, "fuckin' rub that wet cunt for me, get all that stress out.."

"Feel how wet you are, baby?" Matt growls, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his tongue circles those buds, his tongue flicking and sucking, never faltering as he speaks. "That’s all for me, huh?"

Your breath hitches, your fingers moving faster against your slick folds, your fingers rubbing circles around your clit as Matt’s words fuel the fire burning inside you. The combination of his rough voice, his hands gripping your body, and his hot mouth sucking at your breast makes you dizzy with pleasure.

His teeth graze your nipple before he pulls back, his lips glossy, eyes dark with lust as he watches you grind against your own hand. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, squeezing your thigh even tighter. “Keep going. Let me see you fall apart for me."

You whimper, your body practically melting against his chest, your head tilting back onto his shoulder as the pleasure inside of you builds.

“Bet you wanna come so bad, huh?”

His hand suddenly moves, slipping beneath the water, his fingers replacing yours. The moment his fingers slide through your wetness and he finds your most sensitive bud, he lets out a deep groan, his grip on you tightening.

“Shit, you’re fucking drenched,” he mutters, rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. “All from rubbing yourself while sitting on me like a needy little slut.”

Matt groans as his fingers continue their slow torment, teasing you with just enough pressure to keep you on edge but not enough to let you fall over. His free hand slides up your body, cupping your breast one last time before he suddenly pulls away.

“Now,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. “Put your hands on your tits for me, baby. Play with them yourself.”

You shiver at his words, your breath hitching as you hesitantly lift your hands. The moment your fingers skim over your sensitive nipples, Matt lets out a pleased hum, his grip tightening on your thigh, rubbing his fingers against your cunt harder.

“That’s it,” he praises, his gaze locked on the way your hands knead and squeeze your breasts, rolling your hardened nipples between your fingers. “Just like that, baby. I wanna see how pretty you look touching those beautiful tits for me.."

His hand between your legs doesn’t stop, fingers sliding through your wetness, teasing and circling, making your hips twitch against him.

“Mm, fuck,” Matt groans, watching the way your body reacts to every touch, every little movement. “You love putting on a show for me, don’t you?”

Matt watches you with dark, hungry eyes through his tousled hair as your fingers continue, pinching and rolling at your sensitive nipples while his hand works between your thighs.

Then, without warning, he presses two fingers against your entrance before slowly pushing them inside.

Your mouth falls open, a sharp gasp escaping as your walls stretch around his two fingers. Matt groans at the feeling, his grip on your hip tightening as he sinks his fingers deeper, the veins of his hands flexing as he fucks his fingers into your pussy. “Fuck,” he mutters, watching the way your body reacts. “You’re so damn tight, baby.”

Matt chuckles darkly, his pace quickening, thrusting his fingers deeper. “That’s my good girl,” he groans, his mouth finding your stomach, kissing softly. “So fucking perfect, letting me play with you like this.”

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing firm, slow circles as his fingers fuck into you, plunging in and out, skimming right against your g-spot. “You gonna come for me, baby?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and full of lust. “Come all over my fingers while you squeeze those pretty tits?

“Keep going,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your abdomen as his fingers speed up inside of your drenched cunt. “Wanna see you lose yourself for me.”

“You close, baby?” he teases, his voice dropping lower as he hears you moan for him. “Feels too good, huh? Can’t even talk, you’re so desperate for it.”

Your breath comes in short, stuttering gasps, and Matt only smirks. “C’mon,” he urges, his lips brushing against your jaw. “Say it. Tell me how bad you wanna come for me.”

You can’t even form words, just a breathy whimper as you nod frantically. He chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying the way you’re relaxing in his lap, so close to the edge.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, his fingers moving faster, deep inside of your pussy, his thumb working steady circles against your clit. You can feel the bulge of his cock beneath you, pressing up into your inner thigh, so close to entering you.

“Let me feel it, baby. Come for me.”

His voice alone is enough to send you over the edge, your body trembling as the pleasure crashes over you. Matt holds you through it, his fingers never slowing as he groans into your skin. “That’s it,” he rasps, his grip firm on your waist as you shudder. “So fucking pretty when you fall apart for me.”

As you catch your breath, his fingers slow, teasing one last stroke before he pulls them away. You’re still panting when he brings them up to your lips, his eyes dark as he murmurs, “Open.”

You open your mouth and Matt slides his fingers against your tongue, your wetness sprawling out on your own taste buds as he makes you taste the absolute mess you made for him.

Matt’s fingers gently pull back, his gaze never leaving yours as he watches you with so much amazement in his eyes.

"God I love you, so fuckin' beautiful" he murmurs, the words dripping with praise. "You look so perfect like this."

His hand moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as you catch your breath. His fingers are still slick, but now they’re just there, gently resting against your lips, a reminder of everything that just happened.

“Come here,” Matt murmurs, his voice coaxing you closer, pulling you in with a tender force. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, the weight of his body a grounding presence after everything that just happened.

Matt runs his fingers through your hair gently, his other hand still resting on your waist.

His voice is quieter now, a bit softer, though there's still a hint of that passion in it. “Do you feel better now, baby?”

The question hangs between you, the weight of it settling over you. You let out a shaky breath, your body still coming down from the rush, and for a moment, you just close your eyes, absorbing the feeling of his touch.

You nod slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you finally meet his eyes. “Yeah,” you whisper, your voice husky, still thick with the aftereffects of everything that just happened. “I do.”

Matt smiles back, the expression something softer than it was earlier. “Good,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “You deserve to feel good, baby. I wanted that for you.”

You give a small, contented sigh as his kiss lingers on your forehead, his warmth still enveloping you, protecting you, always keeping you safe.

Matt pulls back just slightly, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Alright, alright," he murmurs, his voice teasing. "As much as I’m enjoying this… we really should get outta here before you get all cold baby." He smiles at you, kissing your forehead once again, " and I think you’ve definitely earned some rest now."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Rest?”

Matt laughs softly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “Rest... movie.. letting me fuck you silly.." He smiles, chuckling, "it's all in the same realm."

thank you for reading ! ♡

this was supposed to be short, I got carried away. clearly.

masterlist

taglist! - @chriss-slutt @55sturn @chrysiie @il0vey0um0st @trustinsturniolos @v4lsturn @shitttttypoet @mattsplaything @emely9274

made a mistake sorry for tagging u all like twice 😔

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 9

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

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

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

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

He's on you again. Just like before, you can't stop him. Steve is behind you, an arm hooked beneath you, his other hand nestled against your pelvis as he plucks your clit.

You heave and cling to the pillow beneath your head. He pumps into you as he keeps your leg propped over his. He impales you with sharp snaps only to drag himself out slowly. Your walls are tender and twitching with each torturous thrust.

You swallow your orgasm. Shame sears over you as you squeeze him without meaning to. He grunts and spasms as he cums. Again. You just want it to end.

He's made a mess of more than your bed and body. He's ruined your life. You were just trying to get by. To make an honest living. Now... you don't know what's going to happen.

He buries himself in you and sighs. He relaxes and keeps his arms around you. He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You lay over him, limp and defeated. His hands rove up and down your body, fondling your chest then kneading your thighs. He's greedy without end.

"You should start packing," he rasps and wiggles his hips. "Mmm, but you feel so good on me."

Your eyes widen as the ceiling and you feel another sheet of tears stinging. Your skin crawls and your heart thumps. He inhales deeply.

"I can hear that," he sits up with you still on him. "You don't have to be scared, sweetheart. I'm going to take care of you."

He frames your hips and rocks you in his lap. He purrs and keeps you moving. You whimper at achiness inside of you. You put your hands on his to keep from folding. He nuzzles the back of your head and drones.

"You're so good, feel what you do to me..."

You close your eyes and breathe through the agony. He doesn't stop. He tilts your hips until he tenses. He climaxes again and it drips out onto him. He pets your hair and pulls you to lean against him.

"Let's go home, huh?"

You murmur as shifts you with him to the edge of the bed. He slides you off his length with a groan and stands you up. His cum spills down your leg and you shiver. He grips you a moment longer before letting you go. You reach to wipe your thigh and he tuts.

"Baby, I want you to leave it. I want you wearing me until we get home. We can take a nice bath together and get washed up."

You retract your hand and swallow your disgust. His cum cools to stick streaks and squicks along the creases of your thighs. You don't know if you're more repulsed by him or your own weakness.

"Let's see," he stands and taps your ass lightly as he passes you, "what are you gonna wear?" He slides open your dresser and searches around. He stirs around your panties and shakes his head. "I need to buy you some cute stuff, huh? Maybe some thongs?"

He pulls open the next drawer and the next. He finds a tee shirt dress that doesn't go far past your thighs. You don't really wear it as more than something to be lazy in.

"Here," he tosses it to you.

You stare at him and hug the fabric.

"You don't need a bra, sweetheart," he winks.

You tuck your chin down and pull it over your head. You tug it as far down your legs as you can. He continues to ravage your belongings. You watch him gather things into a bag. Not everything, just what he thinks is necessary.

"Gonna get you new everything," he promises. "To go with your new men."

He smiles at you. You feel faint. He's still naked and completely shameless.

He zips up the slack duffel. You try not to show your distaste. As scared as you are, you're angry too. How can he do this and still act like a hero?

"Stop pouting or I'll have to fuck a smile onto your face," he warns.

Your lips part then you force them to curve. You turn and look around. You find some shoes and step into them. His demeanour tells you, you won't be seeing this place again.

He dresses and groans as he stretches out his neck and shoulders. He hooks the bag on his shoulder and approaches you. He sighs again as he balls then opens his hands.

"I feel good. More... relaxed," he steps into his boots. "I needed that."

You stare at him. You're a disaster. Just like your life. He doesn't seem to care about any of that.

"Come on, sweetheart," he opens the door. "Won't it be nice to be home?"

[hisfavegirl]

Aegon Reaction to Your Pole Dancing Video in instgram.

Thanks to @zaldritzosrose for letting me using your beautiful dividers

Aegon Targaryen was not amused.

It started with a notification—his phone buzzing lazily in his hand as he lay sprawled on the couch. He wasn’t expecting anything exciting, maybe some mindless scrolling. And then he saw it.

Your Instagram post.

A video.

Of you.

Pole dancing.

The slow, teasing way your body moved, the way your hands gripped the pole, the way your hips swayed so effortlessly—it was enough to make his mouth go dry. Enough to make his blood fucking boil.

But the worst part? The comments.

“Goddamn.”

“I need a moment.”

“She can ruin me, and I’d thank her.”

“Aegon is the luckiest man alive. If he fumbles, I’m next.”

Aegon saw red.

His jaw clenched as his grip tightened around his phone, nearly cracking it in his hand. His knee bounced aggressively, his body vibrating with jealousy and rage.

He was already dialing your number.

No answer.

His teeth ground together. He didn’t care if you were out. He didn’t care what you were doing. He needed to handle this.

So he sent a text instead.

Aegon: Delete the video. Now.

Seen. No reply.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. Fine. You wanted to play? He’d play.

Less than twenty minutes later, he was storming through your door. You barely had time to react before he was there, grabbing your phone right out of your hand.

“What the hell, Aegon—”

“You think this is funny?” His voice was low, dark, dangerous. His eyes burned into you, stormy with jealousy. “Posting that video? Letting other men drool over you like you’re some—some—”

Your brows furrowed. “I’m some what, Aegon?”

He exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. His fingers raked through his silver-blond hair, his other hand still gripping your phone. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he growled. “You wanted attention? Congratulations, you got it. And now I get to deal with a bunch of pathetic little fucks thinking they have a chance with my girl.”

Your lips parted slightly at his words.

My girl.

Possessive. Jealous. Fuming. And absolutely turned on.

“Aegon, it was just a video,” you tried, softer now. “It’s not that deep.”

His gaze flicked to yours, intense and unreadable. And then, in a flash, he had you pinned against the wall.

“You think it’s not that deep?” he murmured, voice dropping into something dark and wicked. His hands gripped your waist, firm, demanding. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

You swallowed hard. You knew that look.

“You don’t post shit like that unless it’s for me,” he growled, pressing his forehead against yours. “So tell me, sweetheart—how do you plan on making it up to me?”

The internet lost its mind.

Aegon Targaryen was already known for being bold, cocky, and possessive—but this? This was a declaration.

The video was barely a few seconds long, yet it was utterly devastating.

A perfect mirror shot.

You, on top of him, body arching in pure abandon. moaning his name like a needy girl you're.

His hand gripping your hair, pulling just enough to make you tilt your head back.

And him? Smirking. Lazy, smug, like a man who had just won the ultimate prize.

The caption?

“If she wants attention, she’ll get it—from me.”

The internet exploded.

— “WHAT THE HELL, AEGON?! WE WERE JUST ADMIRING HER POLE DANCING, NOT ASKING FOR THIS ATTACK.”

— “He really said ‘MY GIRL’ in the loudest way possible.”

— “I was happy being delusional until this man reminded me that I’m single as hell.”

— “I’m blocking both of you for my mental health.”

— “Not him marking his territory in 4K.”

— “Aegon just dropped the most toxic, possessive, jealous boyfriend move and we’re all jealous??”

— “This is revenge for the pole dancing vid and we ALL lost.”

— “I need Aegon Targaryen erased from history before I die of envy.”

— “The way she’s arching though… girl, blink twice if you need help.”

The video spread like wildfire. Within minutes, it was on every fan page, every meme account, every thirst edit. People were breaking down in the comments, screaming, crying, throwing their phones.

And Aegon?

He was loving every second of it.

The moment Aegon posted that video, the family group chat turned into absolute chaos.

FAMILY GROUP CHAT: Family Therapy Session.

— Alicent: Aegon. Targaryen. DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW.

— Helaena: …why is this the first thing I see when I open Instagram?

— Aemond: Have you lost your damn mind?

— Daemon: LMAO. This is so embarrassing for the rest of you.

— Rhaenyra: Alicent, come get your son.

— Jace: Bro. You need therapy.

— Luke: I DID NOT NEED TO SEE THAT.

— Baela: I’m blocking both of you.

— Rhaenys: I have never been more ashamed to share blood with any of you.

— Daemon: Weak move. If you really wanted to mark her, you should’ve made sure it wasn’t mirror-friendly.

— Viserys : Even I would’ve taken your phone away for this.

Meanwhile, in the Instagram comments:

— AlicentHightower: I have failed as a mother.

— HelaenaTargaryen: The bugs didn’t warn me about this.

— AemondOneEye: This is why I tell people we aren’t related.

— JacaerysVelaryon: @YourUsername, blink twice if you need rescuing.

— RhaenyraTargaryen: Can someone explain why I’m tagged in this??

— DaemonTargaryen: This is why he’s my favorite nephew.

— CristonCole: Disgraceful.

Aegon, of course, was thriving in the chaos.

He sent one message in the group chat and muted it.

— Aegon: Don’t like it? Unfollow. 😘

The knock on the door was loud—not the casual kind, but the type that promised trouble. Aegon barely had time to pull on a shirt before the door swung open. His mother stormed in first, followed by Aemond, Helaena, and Jace, all wearing various degrees of rage, horror, and exhaustion. Daemon strolled in last, looking amused as hell.

Alicent was seething, her face flushed with pure mortification.

“Aegon. What in the name of the Seven was that?”

He stretched lazily, unfazed. “A video.”

“A video?” Aemond repeated, his voice sharp. “You mean the public video of you and her—IN YOUR BED—posted for the entire world to see?”

Jace looked traumatized, hands on his hips, as if he didn’t know whether to fight Aegon or bleach his eyes.

“Do you have any shame?” Jace nearly shouted. “People sent that to me. I had to see that with my own eyes.”

Helaena, standing in the middle of the chaos, looked genuinely confused as she muttered, “But why through a mirror?”

Daemon? Oh, he was having the time of his life.

“I, for one, think this is hilarious,” he smirked, leaning against the wall. “But even I didn’t go this far.”

Alicent looked like she was two seconds away from throwing something.

“Do you understand how humiliating this is?” she snapped. “Not just for you but for all of us?”

Aegon rolled his eyes, slouching onto the couch.

“Relax, mother,” he drawled. “She looked good, didn’t she?”

Silence.

Then Aemond lunged.

It took Daemon and Jace to hold him back as he snarled, “I should break your jaw for that.”

Aegon grinned, knowing he’d won.

“Too late. Already got what you wish you had.”

That? That’s when the real fight broke out.

The argument was already spiraling into chaos, but Daemon, being Daemon, decided to make things worse.

He clapped Aegon on the back, grinning like the devil himself.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Daemon drawled. “Boy’s just showing off. Frankly, Rhaenyra, maybe we should do the same. What do you think, love?”

Rhaenyra, who had been rubbing her temples in frustration, froze mid-motion. Her expression shifted from exasperated to murderous in seconds.

“Daemon,” she said slowly, “shut. Up.”

But Daemon only laughed, turning to Aegon with mock approval.

“I say well done. If you’re going to ruin the family name, at least do it properly.”

That’s when you appeared.

You walked into the living room, barely able to stand, moving with that telltale weakness that said everything without a single word. Your hair was a mess, your skin marked, and the oversized shirt was clearly Aegon’s.

The room fell silent.

Alicent’s face drained of all color. Aemond looked seconds away from stabbing someone. Jace? He turned around like he physically couldn’t handle this.

But it was Rhaenyra who broke first.

“Oh, for FUCK’S SAKE.”

Daemon? He just smirked harder.

“Now that,” he gestured to you, “is how you make a statement.”

Aegon grinned, absolutely reveling in their reactions, but before he could open his mouth—

Alicent threw a goblet at his head.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

[corameiwrites]

𖦹 searching for love pt. 2𖦹

pair: jason todd x gn!reader

plot: going back to work, you wonder if you'll see your handsome stranger again...

wc: 1.6k

For once, being forced to wake up and leave your warm cocoon of blankets and stuffed animals at nine in the morning didn’t seem so terrible. Your cat, however, thought differently. To her, it was routine to be awoken by your ruffling of the sheets and complaining about the day to come. 

There was none of that this morning, and she seemed to take notice. Rather than stay in bed scrolling until the absolute last minute, you sprang up and went to your bathroom. Meowing in some form of complaint and stretching, she jumped down soundlessly to join you. She watched as you did your normal routine from the toilet seat as she did every morning. Then it was off to the closet. Padding softly on the wooden floors, she went to her bed she rarely used situated next to a floor length mirror and got comfortable. With lazy eyes, she observed you sorting through clothes and digging in laundry baskets. 

Unknowingly, she had fallen asleep but was awoken by a scratch on her head. Looking up, she saw you fully dressed, smiling down on her. Meowing in content, she stretched and rested a paw on your outstretched arm. 

“Do you want breakfast, girl?” 

Her ears perked up at that, and in an instant she was up and across the room, meowing boisterously at you to follow. 

“Of course you do.” You followed your noisy cat into the kitchen, almost tripping over her when she circled between your legs. “Hey, watch it.” 

After pouring some kibble into her tray and getting no more than a mere meow in thanks, you double checked you had everything in your bag before sitting down on the couch to put on your shoes. 

“Do you think he’ll be there today?” 

Her tail swung slowly from side to side as she ate her food. 

“I hope he will.” You stood, running to the mirror for one last look at yourself before grabbing your keys and walking to the front door. Your cat followed, meowing insistently again. Leaning down, you scoop her into your arms and snuggle her. You walk to your room, cat still in your arms. 

“I'm sorry girl, but we can’t have a repeat of last time.” Her head lifts to look at you, and before she knows it you’ve thrown her on the bed and run out of the room all the way to the front door. She, again, meows loudly before rushing to the door only to catch it closing. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♡  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

For some unknown reason, everybody and their mother wanted to come to the cozy bookstore on a late Tuesday afternoon. This had kept you and your other coworker on your feet all day, alternating between stocking, running the register, and walking around asking kids to please not climb on bookshelves. Had it not been for the hope of seeing your “mystery hunk” (as your coworker lovingly named him), you probably would have looked dead on your feet. 

Your coworker was teasing you nonstop about volunteering to actually walk around the store and shelve in hopes of seeing him. You took it in stride though, because at least you were self aware of how insane and a little delusional you were being. 

With every ring of the front door, your head would instantly turn, checking to see if it was him. When shelving, you lingered around the Austen area in case he wanted to pick up another book. Constantly looking through the crowd, you hoped to find a wisp of white hair somewhere. The only white hair you saw was from one of your regulars, Agnes, an old lady who fit every stereotype of a fairytale grandma. You were chatting with her before your coworker asked you to take over the register. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♡  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Jason had been sitting in the coffee shop across the street from the bookstore for more than twenty minutes, scared shitless for absolutely no reason. Maybe it was the fact that he still felt awful about keeping you thirty minutes past closing—unknowingly, but it didn’t take away the shame. You had been so nice about it too, telling him not to worry. But how could he not? It was the only thing on his mind the last couple hours. The least he could have done was make sure you got home safe, so he followed protected your walk home. 

Tim had given him so much shit about abandoning him for 40 minutes and purposefully leading Condiment King to him that Jason had ended up agreeing to take care of the dry cleaning and “trauma compensation” (Tim’s words, not his). Whatever that meant. 

That's what led him to this coffee shop after dropping off the ruined suit, which was conveniently across the street from your work, the little time-warp of a bookstore. He was watching people file in and out periodically through the window, but didn’t see you at the register. Not that he was looking for you specifically. He just wanted to thank you and apologize once more, that's all. 

It looked rather busy, and he didn’t feel like walking in to explain the whole lost wallet and books on hold thing to the worker. After some more internal shaming and nonsensical overthinking, Jason decided he wouldn’t go back to that bookstore today, and probably ever again despite his gut telling him otherwise. He couldn’t just stroll in with a clean conscience knowing he kept you so late past closing. It was a crime comparable to his nighttime-persona. 

Groaning as he got up from his table, he threw his empty cup away. He had taken a pretty hard fall this morning grappling back to his safehouse and bruised half his right side. He was just glad Tim wasn’t there to see it. Walking to his bike parked outside, he took one last look at the bookstore. The sight of you at the register made him do a double take. 

Stalling next to his motorcycle, his hand began to fidget with the ignition key in his pocket. You were checking out a mother and a little kid, who was practically bouncing on his feet. You were smiling and talking to the boy, and he must have said something cute or blunt in the way only little kids are, because suddenly you were laughing. 

The sight unconsciously brought a smile to his lips.

Bagging their books, you handed something to the kid. They walked out and you continued onto the next customer, and Jason watched as the kid plastered a shiny gold star sticker onto his chest just outside the store. 

 Sighing, he abandoned his bike and made his way across the street. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♡  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

The bell to the front door chimed, and mostly on professional training and only a little bit delusion, you looked up to greet the person. 

“Welcome—oh!” Realizing it was your mysterious hunk, you smiled a little brighter. He smiled back, a small one, but still there. Slowly, he approached the front counter, lingering a little awkwardly as you hurried to bag someone's books. After telling them to come again, he approached the register. 

“Hi.” he said, a little breathlessly.

“Hey.” Your smile widened at his stiff posture and shy demeanor. “Any luck finding your wallet?”

“Oh,” his eyebrows raised, and it was as if you speaking had broken him out of a daze. You found this far too endearing. “Yeah, I uh, actually left it at home—but I brought it today, so…”

“Yeah, I’ve definitely done that before.” You say, letting out an airy chuckle. Neither of you say anymore for a moment, both looking at the other. He’s dressed more casually today, his heavy cargo pants traded out for an old pair of baggy jeans. He’s wearing a dark green sweater under another leather jacket; black this time. Something about it makes his eyes pop just a little brighter you think. His eyes meet yours, and he looks away briefly, chewing his lip slightly. 

“You still have those books behind the counter?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Um–yeah, sorry.” Quickly turning, you bend down, mentally slapping yourself for checking him out so obviously. The books are in the same place you stored them last night. Picking them up, you rush to stand back up. “Ow!” 

“Oh shit, are you okay?” He sounds very concerned. 

“Yep, just a little scratch.” There's no way you will ever recover from hitting your head on the counter in front of a hot customer. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, I am totally fine. Um…” Trailing off and trying desperately to escape his piercing gaze, you ask if he wants a bag. 

“Sure, yeah.”

Trying your hardest to not shrivel up and die of embarrassment, you carefully put his books into a paper bag, watching as he whips out a leather wallet and handing you a twenty dollar bill. Noting his clear affinity to leather, you get his change before turning back to him, $5.67 in your hand. His own brushes against yours slightly as he takes the change, and you're a little ashamed at how much that small contact made your heart soar. 

Instantly, he puts the extra money into a small tip jar. You smile, and as you're about to thank him, Old Agnes puts her books down on the counter. Noticing, he grabs his bag and steps back, looking at you. 

“Thanks for holding these back there, and sorry for keeping you up late last night.” You decide to ignore the look Agnes gives you. 

“It's alright. Come back soon?” 

He hesitates, glancing around the store and back at you. He smiles, nodding. “I’m planning on it.” 

You watch as he leaves, walking recklessly across the street (a car honked at him) to a red motorcycle. You gape a little, eyeing him as he puts on a helmet and leaves. You focus back on checking out Old Agnes’ books. 

“...so what were you two up to last night?"

[lostinlovingrevery]

Vans Valentines - Rookie Romantic

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

Vans Valentines

A/N: I'm not super proud with this one and I was honestly struggling typing it 🥲There's a lot of dialogue in this too. Also no Valentines banner for this yet either bc i'm being lazy about graphics lol. I hope you like the fluff tho!

Plot: It's yours and Logan's first Valentines, and he's panicking about what to do for you!

Warnings: Fluff, Logan is stressssing, other X-men, lil romance, some suggestiveness at the end but not really? Lot of dialogue

Word Count: 2110

Logan was freaking out. 

Strange isn’t it? The big bad Wolverine is freaking out because…

He doesn’t know what to do for Valentines.

“You don’t know what to do?” Scott raises a brow, and crosses his arms. A small smirk on the corner of his lips. “You mean mister “I don’t need any help” needs help to figure out what to give his girlfriend for Valentines day?” 

Logan felt flustered, rolling his eyes at Scott's mocking words. The tip of his ears turned red in embarrassment, as he brought a hand to scratch the back of his head. “It’s not like I don’t know what to get her, I just…” He sighs. “We haven’t been dating that long yet, I don’t want to blow it.” 

“It’s Valentines man, get her some chocolate and flowers.” Scott shrugs. 

“Is that what you’re giving Jean?”

“No.” He scoffs. “I got her tickets to see her favorite orchestra play live in Vegas. She always wanted to go there.” 

Logan's face fell. He scowled at Scott.

“I mean, I’ll give her flowers and chocolate too but that’s not the main gift.” Scott adds. “Just…Give her something from the heart.”

“Real cheesy Summers.” 

Scott shook his head. “Whatever, just don’t mess it up. We both know she’s a real romantic about these things.” He waved him off, turning and walking away. Logan frowned, crossing his arms and pinching the bridge of his nose. The anxiety he was hoping to cease was filling him to the brim. He let a small sigh.

Maybe Marie will be better help…

“Oh flowers! Get her favorite flowers! Jewelry? What about jewelry?” She smiles. “You could take her out to a nice dinner? Honestly anything goes, it’s really the thought that counts to us girls. As long as you put the effort in….” 

“So I was told.” Logan sighs. “Look, I could do all that stuff, I have done that stuff in the past. I uh…Never really cared about doing something nice for someone like that. I want to do something that means something. It’s her favorite holiday.” 

“You could get her something personalized?” Marie shrugs.

“What are we talking about?” Ororo walks into the room.

“Logan's trying to find something for his girlfriend-” Marie teases. 

“Watch it kid.” Logan shook his head. “I just haven’t figured it out yet. I’m looking for…suggestions.” Logan throws his hands up a weak shrug. “Any ideas?

“Really Logan?” Ororo scolds putting a hand on her hip. “You haven’t figured it out by now? Valentines is literally in a few days you know”

“I know! I’ve been thinking about it for a month!” Logan snaps, his voice nearly a growl. Marie and Ororo stare at him. “Sorry, sorry.” He says, brushing his hand through the curls of his hair. “I just…Want it to be…Special.” He gets out in frustration. 

“How about a weekend trip?” Ororo asks. “I had a boyfriend do that for Valentines. It was a really nice gift.” She smiles. 

“Maybe.”

“Whatever you do, just make sure it’s nice. You know how much she loves Valenti-”

“Yeah yeah.” Logan waved Ororo off, turning to walk out of the room. He didn’t mean to be rude, he did ask after all, but he was stressing out more and more. None of what anyone suggested sat right with him. He sat lost in thought as he wandered the mansion. 

This was yours and Logan's first Valentines. He wanted to do something nice for you, since he’s known for as long as you both been here that it was your favorite holiday. He actually did give you flowers last year for Valentines, but you were both still friends then- tittering on the edge of a relationship but he was too nervous to actually ask you out that time. 

This time he wanted to make it mean something- to make up for last year, feeling like he disappointed you by not officially taking you out that day. 

He happened by Hanks study. Maybe Hank knows something, since you two are good friends. 

He stepped inside, and Hank looked up from his desk, a blink of surprise. “Logan? Good to see you. Need something?”

“Yeah uh…Has my girl said anything to you about Valentines? Like…Maybe if she was expecting something?”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “No, not at all.” He shook his head. “I do know that she seems excited this year. Do you have something planned?”

Logan's expression told Hank what he needed to know. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Just take her out for a date Logan. All she wants is to be with you.” 

Logan shook his head. “Looking for something a little more than that Hank.” He sighs, turning to walk out into the hallway. 

He wasn’t good at this. He had been wandering on his own for years and years. Alone.  Valentines would pass him by and he wouldn’t even notice unless he stopped at a bar that actually decorated with string hearts and “romance” deals on the whiskey. He’s not even sure if he ever even at least hooked up with someone on Valentines. It didn’t matter to him, wasn’t important. It was another day, in his long, fleeting life. 

Now that he’s got you. He sees the appeal of the holiday. Spoiling your loved one, making sure they know how you feel about them, the romance, the intimacy. All great. Except now the pressure of making sure he impresses you, makes you happy, really stresses him out. 

Faint memories of old relationships, where he gifted flowers, candy, and going out to dinner, leading to intimate nights spent together. Stuff that he didn’t necessarily put the effort into- things that he did because they were expected and he was content to just do what he could. He could do all that sure, and you’d probably love it. You weren’t picky, but you were a romantic and he felt like if he settled on his gifts, on his expression of love; you’d be disappointed. 

Lost in thought, he nearly missed Charles in his head, asking him to come to his study urgently. He put your gifts on the back-burner, as he made his way to Charles office, to realize his day was about to get worse. 

It was now Valentines, and Logan was begrudgingly walking up the steps to the mansion, having returned from a mission, that lasted nearly 4 days.

The chaos left him little time to get you gifts, just enough time to get you a bouquet of flowers which unfortunately got smushed when some jackass shoved into him. He went to get a new bouquet- and of course, that same jackass happened to snatch the last one. Valentines evening, figures they would nearly be out. 

He got up to the door, staring at the bouquet in disdain. He’ll make it up to you, he knows he will. Surely you understand what happened, right? 

Just as he went to open the door, it opened on it’s own, with Scott and Jean standing there, arms hooked with each other, dressed as they seemed prepared to go on a fancy date.

“Logan!” Jean smiled, then shot a look at Scott, who was smirking. “Welcome back!” 

“Yeah.” Logan gives a courteous nod, pursing his lips together. “You guys look nice.” He compliments, looking them up and down. Fancy, flashy outfits. Jean in a bright red evening gown, and Scott in a tux- with a red tie to match her dress; and supposedly his glasses too. 

“Thank you.” Jean smiles bigger, hugging Scott's arm a little closer to her. “We’re going out to dinner.” 

“Have fun.” He says, not very heartfelt in his words as he moved to step inside past them.

“Hey, she’s in the kitchen by the way.” Jean calls out over her shoulder. Logan looks back at them, as they were walking out the door.

“Hope you got something nice planned Logan.”  Scott remarks, and looked over his shoulder as well, glancing at Logan, the smirk still plastered on his face. Jean quietly hushed him and they disappeared down the walkway. Logan shut the door behind them, confusion on his face.

Why were they weird?

He made his way to the kitchen, past the various student couples flirting and necking throughout the halls and rooms, rolling his eyes at the young love the entire mansion has found itself in. Anxiety began to hit him as he began to realize how disappointed you were going to be. He stopped just before the doorway of the kitchen, preparing himself before he stepped in. 

Confusion filled him as he looked around. You weren’t in here. He must have just missed you. 

He turned to leave, before noting the patio door was cracked open. His brows creased, as he walked across the room, his hand reaching out to close it when he noticed rose petals on the floor. 

“What the hell?” He muttered to himself. Jean telling him you were in the kitchen, and Scotts remark….He had a feeling this had something to do with you. He stepped further out, walking along the scattered rose petals, stretching across the lawn- seemingly endless as he followed them. 

He sniffed, a could smell your perfume nearby, as well as the faint smell of food. A small smile grew on his face, as he followed a small path through the woods that the rose petals led him through. That’s when he came into the small clearing- where you were.

You’re back was turned to him, but he could see you were wearing one of his favorite dresses on you, and your hair done up. You seemed busy arranging the table, which had lit candles, plates, and bowls and decorative plates filled with his favorite food. Nearby, he heard music playing crooners and jazz. The clearing had lights strung up on the trees, lighting up the small area and creating a romantic ambiance that reminded Logan how much he loved you.

Silently he snuck up behind you, his arm quickly wrapped around your waist as he pulled you against him, a small gasp escaping you as he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. It had been a few days since he seen you after all, he missed you dearly. 

“Hi Lo…” You giggled, placing your arms over his and leaning back into him. “Happy Valentines day…”

“This all for me bub?”

“This? Oh, no. It’s for Hank.” You teased shaking your head, feigning as if you were serious. 

“Not funny.” He murmured, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. You turned around, placing your hands on his shoulders. His eyes quickly taking in your figure, reminding him once again why this dress was his favorite on you. 

“You like it?” You asked. 

“Like it? I love it baby.” He cooed, leaning in to peck your lips. “Um…” He parted from you, lifting the broken bouquet up. “These are..For you.” 

Your face lit up as you took the flowers into your hands, “Lo!”

“I…” He sighed in frustration, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t do anything super…fancy. I wanted to, couldn’t think of anything and then that damn mutant went on a rampage over in-”

“Lo-” You hushed him, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone told me you’ve been stressing over it, so that’s why I took care of it.”

“Everyone?” Logan quirked a brow. Then rolled his eyes, as he felt his cheeks heat up. “No one can keep their mouth shut around here…” 

You giggled, cupping his face with your hands, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him again, distracting him from his irritation from everyone else. He smiled into your kiss, leaning forward into you, as his hand pushed against your back, as if he couldn’t get close enough to your persons. You parted with a gasp, eyes dazed from him. 

“Well, since you got this part covered.” He mutters softly as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’ll make sure the rest of the night won’t be forgetful.”

You giggled at his insinuation. “I got a surprise for later, by the way.” You say. He leaned his head, taking a look at you questioningly. “You’ll like it.” 

He hummed. “I’m sorry again that I-”

“Logan, hush.” You stop him. “All I’d ever want is you. I don’t need a bunch of fancy gifts for you to show me you love me. I just want you.” 

He smiled, genuine and broad, he leaned closer to you again, pecking your forehead. “Same here, bub.” He responds softly. 

[locsandletters]

ᯓ three of us; j.bellingham

──one shot/smau

pairing ➜ dad!jude x mom!reader

word count ➜ 1.1k

warnings/notes ➜ none

summary ➜ waking up to roses, a penthouse suite, and your baby girl’s sweet giggles—jude has valentine’s day planned to perfection, just like he always does.

valentine’s day has never been small with jude. you know this. he’s never been the type to half-ass anything when it comes to you, and God knows he loves a reason to go all out. so when you wake up to the smell of fresh roses thick in the air, when your sleepy eyes blink open to a room flooded in all shades of pink, you’re not even surprised.

a soft giggle pulls your attention, your heart melting before your eyes even land on her. your daughter. your baby girl. sitting right there on the bed between you and jude, still in her pyjamas, soft curls all over the place, chubby fingers wrapped tight around a plush teddy bear nearly bigger than her. the same bear you watched jude pick out himself a week ago. ‘it’s cute, yeah?’ he’d asked, stuffing it into the shopping cart even when you told him it was way too big.

and now there she is, sitting up straight, the bear nearly swallowing her whole as she grins wide at you.

“mama, wake up!” her voice is all sugar, sticky sweet with that innocence only babies have. “daddy say surprise.”

you shift onto your back, glancing to your right, finding jude already watching you with that lazy, smug smile. leaned up against the headboard, one arm resting behind his head, the other wrapped tight around your daughter’s tummy, like she might just float away if he lets go.

“morning, princess,” he murmurs, voice all soft and sweet.

you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or her. probably both.

the place is quiet except for the sound of the city humming outside the windows. jude always books a hotel for valentine’s day, just to switch things up, just because he can. this time, a penthouse overlooking madrid. a ridiculous suite in a ridiculous hotel, the type of place with staff that knows your name and an elevator that only opens with a special key. the type of place only someone like jude can make feel like home.

“you got my baby waking me up early for a surprise?” you mumble, rubbing your eyes, fighting back a yawn.

jude smiles, eyes gleaming. “she wanted to wake you up an hour ago,” he says, ruffling her curls. “had to bribe her with cartoons.”

your baby giggles, snuggling into jude’s side, tiny hands still gripping that bear for dear life.

“you ready?” jude asks, tilting his head, watching you carefully.

you stretch your arms above your head, the silk sheets slipping down your body, exposing bare skin and the delicate lace of the lingerie jude had peeled off you just hours before. his eyes darken slightly, flickering over your figure, but he keeps himself in check.

barely.

“where we goin’?” you ask, lips curling.

he just smirks. “you’ll see.”

but before that, before the extravagant plans, before jude even lets you leave the bed, there’s the first gift.

the one sitting up on her knees right beside you, her tiny hands behind her back, rocking side to side like she’s holding the best secret in the world.

“mama!”

“yes, baby.”

“close your eyes!”

you do, because what else can you do when she’s so excited, when her little voice is bubbling over with joy? you feel movement, the slight shift of the mattress as she crawls closer, jude’s deep chuckle somewhere to your right. then something soft, pressed into your palm.

“open!”

you blink down. a card, hand-decorated with uneven hearts, stickers, glitter smudged at the edges. in the middle, written with the careful grip of a child still learning her letters, it says:

happy valentines day, mama. love you.

the handwriting wobbly. messy. perfect.

your throat tightens.

you look up at jude. he’s watching you, both hands resting behind his head now, mouth twitching like he’s fighting back a smile.

“she picked it out herself,” he says. “even wrote it too, didn’t you, baby?”

your daughter nods, curls bouncing. “daddy helped me!”

“barely,” jude shrugs. “she’s a little genius, just like her mom.”

you should say something, but your heart is too full, your throat too tight.

“you like it?” your daughter asks, voice small, uncertain.

you shift onto your side, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her into you, kissing the softest part of her cheek until she giggles.

“i love it, baby. it’s perfect.”

she beams. jude leans over, pressing a kiss to your temple, warm and lingering. you turn your face into his, brushing your lips over his jaw.

you could stay like this forever.

but you don’t, can’t, because almost immediately after, jude runs you a bath.

insists, actually.

there’s petals floating in the water when you step into the massive marble tub, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice sitting on the edge, a new chanel robe waiting for you on the vanity. jude is annoyingly good at this.

he’s already dressed when you come out—black trousers, a matching prada button-down, sleeves rolled up, top two buttons undone, the gold chain you bought him for his birthday resting against his collarbones. he looks good, unfairly so.

“you’re staring,” he says, amused, adjusting the tiny bracelet on your baby’s wrist as she sits on the bed.

you roll your eyes. “shut up.”

he just grins.

you finally look around.

boxes stacked neatly on the dresser. dior. prada. fendi. chanel. birkins in every colour you can think of, jewellery in cases so beautiful they could be gifts themselves. an unnecessary amount, but that’s jude.

“jude.” you give him a look.

“what?” he shrugs, feigning innocence, lifting your daughter onto his hip. she immediately buries her face in his chest, tiny arms wrapping around his neck. “you know how this goes, baby.”

he’s right. this isn’t new. but still.

you shake your head, stepping closer, pressing a hand to his chest, feeling his warmth through the fabric. “you didn’t have to do all this,” you murmur, tracing a finger over the chain around his neck.

“i know.” he leans down, lips brushing your temple. “but i wanted to.”

you exhale, eyes closing for a second.

“open your stuff,” he nudges, stepping back, adjusting your baby on his hip. “then we’re going.”

“going where?”

he just smiles.

—

you soon find out.

a private brunch. a rooftop, a view of the whole city. live music, candles, a ridiculous amount of food.

your baby in her own little chair between you and jude, a plate full of mini pancakes, her curls tied up in two tiny puffs.

jude feeding you bites of fruit, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

the sun warm on your skin. the softest breeze. the quietest moment.

and then, jude, watching you, soft eyes, softer smile.

"happy valentine’s day, my love," he murmurs, reaching across the table, fingers sliding through yours.

you squeeze his hand, your baby giggling between you, syrup on her cheeks, happiness in her eyes.

"happy valentine’s day, baby," you whisper back.

money can buy a lot of things. but this? this is priceless.

ynusername

liked by tolami_benson, renee_downer and 791 835 others.

ynusername just a girl and her gorgeous flowers (bought by her equally gorgeous man).💐

view all comments

wag: stunner🫦

username: nah i’m hating

username: jude 🤝🏽 single-handedly keeping florists in business

username: you think you’re better than me?🤨

username: bellingham is such an unbelievably shit footballer but he's dating yn so he just wins even when he loses

ynusername

liked by camavinga, trentarnold66 and 2 693 748 others.

ynusername valentines weekend dump (the PG version).💞☺️

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username: OH?!

judebellingham: my favourite girls.🩷

username: oh brother, baby #2 otw

jobebellingham: choosing to ignore what the caption implies. my niece is growing up too fast 🥹

username: bitch– RELEASE THE TAPE!!

[blueberrybeomgyu]

౨ৎ💜 warnings ⋆.ೃ࿔ : 18+, i tried not to use gendered terms for reader but i might've slipped up, stoned!sohee, reader is probably stoned too but idrk, overstim, another abrupt ending, sohee passes out / wc: 1.2k / masterlist / a/n : first sohee work!! i hope u like it :)) please excuse any typos >< / divider

sohee gets so useless when he’s high. he always accepts it when you offer him another hit, even when he’s already lazy. you know it’s wrong, but he’s so cute like that, barely keeping his head up. his eyelids flutter shut every few minutes, but he fights to keep them open. you tell him he can go to bed if he wants to, but he just shakes his head, mumbling that he wants to talk to you. you give him your full attention, but he doesn’t say anything else. he fidgets with the hem of your shorts instead. he’s slouched on the couch, head resting on the back cusion so he’s lower than you, looking up at you expectantly.

“sohee,” you smile, “if you want something, you’ll have to ask for it.”

after a few seconds, he slurs out a response so badly you can’t really make it out. he’s waiting for your answer to a question you didn’t hear, and you raise an eyebrow at him. he whines, dragging out your name and tugging your arm. you follow his lead, leaning closer until you’re inches apart and his soft pants are hitting your face.

“kiss me?” he says, letters still bleeding together, but this time, you’re close enough to actually hear him. you hesitate for a moment, but his eyes dragging down to your lips makes you shiver, and you pull him into a kiss.

he sighs into it, pulling you closer until you’re hovering over his lap. you let one hand cup his cheek and the other slip into his hair. you tug on the locs and sohee inhales sharply, breaking the kiss. you turn the attention to his neck instead, marking it up slowly. sohee mumbles something about being closer. he tries to pull your hips closer to his, but the weed has made his arms jelly. 

he lifts his own instead, pressing his body against yours. the feeling forces another noise from his mouth. he grinds his hips up, getting lost in the sensation, until his legs tire out, and his hips fall back against the couch. he makes a noise in complaint, and you get the hint, resting your weight on him completely. you set the pace this time, rolling your hips against his and licking into his mouth when it drops open. he pants something against your lips. his eyes are squeezed shut when you pull away and you whisper in his ear, asking him to repeat himself.

“so good, plea- se,” he says, stuttering as you nip at his neck. he doesn’t last long even sober, and you know he’s just moments from cumming. you run your hands up his shirt, feeling the hot skin of his chest until you reach his nipples. you pinch and tug both, and he doesn’t even say anything. he looks at you with pink, lidded eyes before they roll back. his eyelids flutter closed as his hips jerk, wetness seeping into his pants as he cums. you still your hips, letting him grind up against you as he rides his orgasm out. to your surprise, he doesn’t stop, hips stuttering against yours as he overstimulates himself.

“keep– can we k-keep g-going? please?” he says, voice trembling and eyes clouded over. you hum, lifting off of his lap to his displeasure. you trace the wet spoit in his pants with your finger. his hips twitch up into the sensation and he whines when you pull away. he starts begging again, dragging words together to create what might sound like sentences to him. all you can make out is that he’s rushing you, weakly pulling you toward him again. you resist, standing in between his legs and pulling his bottoms off. you pull his shirt off as well, letting him rest bare against the couch. goosebumps litter across his arm. his tongue lolls out of the corner of his mouth as he watches you take your own clothing off. it’s too slow for him, but he’s too slow-brained to complain. by the time he’s able to form the words, you’re already stripped and climbing back on top of him. 

“think you can make me cum, pretty?”

sohee whimpers, pulling your legs further apart so he can look at your body. he babbles something unrelated to your question, which makes you laugh.

“you don’t even hear me, huh? brainless up there,” you say, tapping his forehead. you barely use any force, but his head falls back against the couch again. he looks up at you glossy-eyed, waiting for your next move. he sucks in a breath when you take ahold of his member, and holds it as you align it with your opening. the breath comes out wheezy, strained as you sink down on him. his hips jerk when you bottom out, and his fingers dig into your skin as if you’ll disappear.

you stay seated for longer than necessary, watching his face contort whenever you squeeze around him. he starts a profanity, lets it fizzle out as his head falls to the side, mouth open on a silent moan. you cup his face in your hand and turn him back to look at you. tears are pooling in his eyes, and he stares at you blankly when you ask him what’s wrong. you shake his head back and forth gently, but he only responds when you roll your hips forward, gasping and tightening his grip on your hips even further. you wince, pulling his hands away from your hips and pining them against the back of the couch. you use that as leverage as you lift your hips slowly, letting sohee’s cock slide halfway out of your walls. he stutters profanities again, face scrunching up as you sink back down. 

even with your slow pace, everything is too fast for him. he struggles to keep up, moaning to pleasure he hasn’t comprehended yet. spikes of pain bleed into the pleasure he feels, and it’s overwhelming, difficult to wrap his head around. he tries to just sit back and take it, considering he asked for it. he tries to hold out his second orgasm as well, but everything feels much more intense than it does when he’s sober. it feels like the pleasure is enough to turn his vision spotty. his head feels mushy, it feels like there’s not enough space for all of his feelings, like every thought is a bubble that pops before he has the time to understand it, and he only clues into the present again when you tap his cheek lightly.

“gonna cum again? you can,” you say. sohee whimpers and gives into the feeling. as the second orgasm washes over him, the thought passes through his brain that you’re so nice tonight, letting him cum again despite you not cumming yet. 

his mouth hangs open again, loud noises falling from it until you slide your fingers past his lips, muffling him even when his noises increase in pitch as you keep going, as you bounce on him quicker. the lack of time to catch up has his head spinning. he thinks his eyes roll, thinks he might be drooling, thinks another pitiful noise forces its way out of his mouth (albeit muffled) as the agonizing pleasure tingles up his spine, sets his limbs on fire. then, his vision really does go blurry, spotty, black, until the static in his head quiets.

[dioslesbianwife]

hiii Can i request a headcanon on the phantom troupe (including hisoka) if you asked them to cuddle :3 pls and thank u (u dont have to do this if u dont want to!)

yess totally! hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!

Phantom Troupe cuddle HCs

Chrollo

He’d give you a knowing little smile, clearly amused by the request.

If he agrees, he’d pull you into his arms in a way that makes it feel like you belong to him.

He enjoys resting his chin on top of your head or tracing patterns on your back absentmindedly while he reads.

Chrollo doesn’t outright refuse requests like this, but he does make them feel like they’re on his terms.

Hisoka

Hisoka’s reaction? A slow, lazy grin as he hums, “Oh~? Feeling needy, are we?”

He would make the whole thing suggestive before actually settling down, drawing it out just to see you squirm.

But once he’s in the mood, he’s surprisingly comfortable- leaning back and wrapping his arms around you like he’s got all the time in the world.

Loves running his fingers up and down your spine, enjoying any little reactions he can get out of you.

Feitan

Stares at you like you just said the weirdest thing in the world. “…Huh?”

Initially resists because he’s not exactly the cuddly type, but if you’re persistent enough (and he likes you), he’ll begrudgingly let you lean against him.

The kind of person to pretend he’s not cuddling you, even when he very much is.

His body is small but warm, and if you catch him in a tired mood, he won’t push you away.

Machi

She acts indifferent, but she doesn’t reject you. Just gives a small shrug and says, “Do whatever you want.”

If she’s busy, she’ll let you lay on her lap while she works on something with her threads.

Machi is naturally warm, so she’s very comfortable to cuddle with, even if she pretends not to care.

Will absentmindedly run her fingers through your hair if you fall asleep on her.

Shalnark

“Oh? You wanna cuddle? Sure!”

Out of everyone, he’s probably the most relaxed and open about it. He’ll pull you in with a big grin and get comfortable instantly.

He enjoys being the big spoon but doesn’t mind switching if you ask.

Will talk to you casually while you cuddle, completely unfazed by the intimacy of it.

Shizuku

Blinks at you a few times before tilting her head. “…Okay.”

She doesn’t see a reason to deny you, so she just goes along with it.

Completely content lying there in silence with you, not overthinking it.

Might fall asleep mid cuddle without warning, completely relaxed against you.

Franklin

Just gives you a soft smile and opens his arms without question.

Franklin is like a giant, warm pillow, he makes you feel safe just by existing.

You can lay on him, and he won’t budge, just letting you get comfortable however you like.

Probably pats your back occasionally in a slow, comforting rhythm.

Bonolenov

Raises an eyebrow at the request but ultimately shrugs and obliges.

Surprisingly chill about it, though he prefers looser cuddles rather than anything tight or restricting.

Hums quietly while holding you- his body has a natural rhythm to it, like a heartbeat.

You can feel the vibrations from his body, it’s oddly soothing.

Kortopi

Blinks at you like a confused cat. “Cuddle?”

He’s not opposed to it, but he’s kind of awkward about it at first.

Will let you lean against him, though, and eventually relaxes into it.

Very still and quiet, but somehow the silence is comfortable.

Phinks

Scoffs and acts like it’s dumb, but his ears turn a little red.

“Tch, fine. But don’t get used to it.”

Despite his gruff attitude, he’s actually really warm and solid- probably one of the best cuddlers.

Ends up holding you way longer than intended but pretends it’s no big deal.

Uvogin

Laughs at you. “What, you scared or something?”

Immediately picks you up like you weigh nothing and pulls you into his lap.

His body heat is ridiculous, and his arms feel unbreakable around you.

The kind of guy who falls asleep instantly while holding you, snoring against your hair.

Pakunoda

She gives you a knowing smirk, clearly finding the request endearing.

Doesn’t hesitate. If she likes you, she’ll pull you close without making a big deal about it.

She has a calm, steady presence that makes cuddling with her feel safe.

Likes to idly run her fingers through your hair or trace slow patterns on your back.

If you ask while she’s deep in thought, she’ll just hum in acknowledgment and let you settle against her without stopping what she’s doing.

[chuellas]

Now We’re Lying About the Nights | N is for Nylon

⤷ Ft. Fyodor Dostoevsky

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.

Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, use of the name “Dear”, nylon fetish, thigh fucking, partially clothed, mirror sex, WC: 1.4k

A/N | WE R ALMOST TO VDAY WE HAVE ALMOST MADE ITTTTTT

“Fedya?” You call out from the attached bathroom in the hotel room you’re staying at, voice coming out a bit quieter than you meant.

Somehow the man still manages to hear your call and hums in response. You barely hear it over the obnoxious ceiling fan. Something tells you if you want to hear him properly you’re going to have to go to him, not the other way around. 

You let out a sigh as you leave the bathroom, still trying to reach for the buttons on the back of your dress as if by some miracle you’ll somehow finally find a way to unlatch the little pearled buttons yourself. You don’t, of course. When you reach Fyodor who’s sitting at the edge of the bed, untying his boots, he lazily looks up at you.

You turn with a dramatic sigh and point to your back. “I need help. I can’t get these ridiculous little buttons unlooped. Pretty please, help a girl out?”

Fyodor doesn’t respond at first, you turn your head back to see why he hasn’t said anything only to find his eyes running down the line of buttons. A simpering smile lifts the corner of your mouth upwards as a mischievous plan crosses your mind. You crouch down a little and press his legs together to create the perfect seat, like a throne fit for a queen. You make yourself comfortable in his lap and gather your hair to the side once again and look at him from the corner of your eye. 

“For your convenience, this way you don’t have to get up.” Fyodor’s gaze is sharp and calculating, clearly unsure how to feel about you just doing as you please.

After a moment his lithe fingers make work of the buttons, wordlessly answering your plea. His actions are pointed and slow, and every so often his cold fingers brush against your bare back. It takes everything within you to not physically shiver. You try to hold it in but your breath skips in your throat and by the way the Russian’s hands pause for just a moment you can tell he caught it. You can vividly imagine the lazy smile he must be wearing, eyes swimming in amusement. He can be so smug and you can practically feel it pouring out of him at this very second.

When he finishes popping open the last button, instead of pushing you off of him like you’d initially thought he would, Fyodor grabs the hem of your skirt and lifts it up to bunch at your hips, exposing your thigh garters that hold up the black nylon stockings you’re wearing on your thighs. You watch his fingers prod at the hem of your left stocking and smoothly run the tips of his fingers under the nylon, tickling the bare skin of your thigh.

Fyodor removes his hand just as quickly as it had previously gotten there and this time both his hands snake under the expensive material of your dress and take hold of your waist to keep you from moving. “What do I get in return for helping you out of this contraption of a dress, Dear?”

This time your breath really does hitch, catching loudly in your throat as his lips are just an inch away from your ear. His hot breath fanning over the shell of your ear keeps you from thinking straight. You’re unable to answer his question. Now that Fyodor has made sure you’re not going anywhere, his hands return to your lags and he pinches the soft flesh of your thigh to regain your attention.

You let out a small yelp and refocus your gaze to his hands, coming back to reality.

“These stockings- I quite like them. I think I’ll have some fun with them.” It’s not a question, he’s not asking for permission and at this point you can feel the way Fyodor's cock is pressing against your ass, straining in his pants. 

With one swift movement you lift yourself up just enough to sweep the dress’s skirt out from underneath you and pull the whole thing off. Your chest is completely bare and you sit back onto his lap which is also bare now too. He must have hastily lowered his pants while you worked on your dress -- always efficient, Fyodor is. You hum in appreciation as your ass now presses into his leaking cock, grinding down and rewarding him with some much deserved friction. 

You look back at him with lidded eyes and play with the hems of your stockings. “You want me to leave these on?”

Fyodor lets out a grunt of approval and lifts you up with a surprising ease you never expect from him. With his chest to your back he walks you forward to the full length mirror and bends you over. Your hands steady you on your thighs and he clicks his tongue, clearly unhappy with your choice.

“Hands on the mirror. You’re going to watch me while I enjoy your thighs, My Dear.” You let out a whimper at the thought, easily doing as you’re told. “Good girl.”

You let out a surprised gasp when the raven haired man pushes aside your panties and nestles his cock between your legs with ease thanks to the slick that’s now dripping down the inside of your thighs. You look in the mirror and watch as the flushed tip of his cock peeks out of the crease in your thighs only to disappear again as he sets a steady pace. Your head dips when he catches your clit, mouth opening and panted moans fall from your lips. 

Fyodor reaches around, breathes heavy, little noises catching in his throat as he does so and he picks up your face to make you look up into the mirror. You know he wants you to watch as he uses your body for his own pleasure, not even trying to do anything for you in return, but you think the way he looks right now is more than you could ever ask for. His mulberry eyes intent on watching the way he slides between your plush thighs, precum staining the very material that stirred him in the first place. His brows are knitted in concentration, something you rarely get to see when Fyodor is always confident with everything he does -- almost annoyingly so. 

This is the one thing that still perplexes him.

His hips start to lose their rhythm, becoming sloppy as he twitches, close to cumming. You spur him on by meeting his thrusts and circling your hips to add an extra bit of friction. You smile proudly when you manage to pull a groan from Fyodor’s throat. 

You look at the Demon through the mirror. “Are you going to make a mess of my thighs, Fedya? Paint me with your cum like a work of art? Don’t you think I would look so pretty with it rolling down my legs and soaking into my stocking?”

Your teasing is all it takes for Fyodor to grunt with one last thrust and finally releases all that pent up tension you think he’s been holding in all night. True to your word, he spills onto your thighs, painting the nylon white. you watch as his cum rolls down your thighs. You’re so mesmerized that you almost miss the way Fyodor lets go of his grip on your hips and backs away. 

You stay put and look back at him to find him already observing you with an odd expression. 

Fyodor doesn’t admire many things but you think that’s what might be flashing through his eyes as he studies you. Before you can question him, he looks away and moves toward the bathroom. You gape at him as he just leaves you leaning on the mirror.

“What- Where are you going?” Your voice is shrill, ready to accuse him of leaving you a mess.

Fyodor tilts his head and grins at you in amusement, making you feel small with simply one look. “I’m going to draw us a bath. I made a mess of you, I should clean it up.”

[eddis-not-eeddis]

If you deeply desire something and it doesn't come into conflict with God's will and his word, don't give up on praying for it. Pray without ceasing for it, ask your friends and your family members to pray for it. Write it down so you can remember when you started praying for it. PRAY!

Last year I started seeing answers to prayers I began praying five years ago. This year hundreds of prayers have been answered. Prayers I forgot about were answered, and I see God's hand as he works to answer even more.

Don't stop praying because you don't see God's hand in your life immediately. God works in a lot of subtle and mysterious ways, and years down the road you'll discover how he has been working behind the scenes. He is not slow in the way we as humans understand slowness, but he sees the bigger picture and knows what will bring about his glory. His timing is perfect, and I can see that in my life.

[s2pdoktopus]

I just did this to show an aged up character design of the precious child to be honest.

[uncanny-tranny]

Something I always wonder with the whole: "The lazy populous doesn't want to work!" is if it's only being said to keep minimum wage at the very, very lowest end of 'survivability.'

The "lazy worker" isn't truly a problem. The employers are.

[ghostymarni]

aaaahh!! @blackseakraft ✨🤩 tysm for the tag! Its an honor to get to know you, thank you for sharing ☕️

what’s the origin of your blog title: caf enthusiast to express my adoration for my favorite commander. for my username, I was an addictive overwatch player for 9 years since 2016. I’m a support player + a sniper, but during a Halloween event one of the icons was a ghosty pachimari, so I took ghostymari + added a letter for my name <3

OTP + ship name: I have too many

favorite color: black + dark green

favorite game: bioshock, overwatch, elder scrolls online, jedi fallen order, fallout 4 mostly for the music.

song stuck in your head: “if it doesn’t hurt” by nothing more

weirdest habit/trait: idk I’m just weird + chaotically sad?

hobbies: art, photography, home decorating, fashion (when I’m not being lazy), dancing (swing dancing, line dancing, + just going ham in a club dance floor 🦇🖤⛓️)

if you work, what’s your profession: I was hesitant on sharing because being vague makes me feel safe, but was like WHY NOT?! I’m a designer + co-account manager for hot topic at an apparel company. I used to have Spencer’s + Spirit Halloween under my umbrella before the company expanded. If you shop those stores you may have seen my terrifier Spencer’s collection last year ;)

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be? I’d live in the middle of the woods in a house built of stone and wood by the local lumberjack. I’d become a spinster, living off my garden, animals, + survival stock. a witch. I’d be a witch.

something you’re good at: sarcasm + dark humor

something you’re bad at: uuuhhhh taking my own advice

something you love: my kid

something you could talk about for hours, off the cuff: clones, universe conspiracies, you know, normal stuff.

something you hate: people who lack common sense

something you collect: right now it’s star wars in universe home items, mid century 60s-80s vintage + new inspired home decor/furniture

something you forget: everything. adhd is fun.

what’s your love language: acts of service, but mostly anything that doesn’t involve me telling someone to do something. If someone goes out of their way to do something just because they care, I take that so hard. I just don’t ask for anything + I don’t expect anything either.

favorite movie/show: star wars, the munsters, addams family, repo the genetic opera, greatest showman, red vs blue, the office, parks + rec, hubie halloween, sense + sensibility etc

favorite food: sushi mostly, but I just really enjoy asian food

favorite animal: I have a cat, so cat? we used to have ferrets, so I really like those too.

what were you like as a child: too obedient, I grew up in a religious cult; I turned out fine.

favorite subject at school: art. I had everything from extra art classes, photography, + even retook humanities because I loved the history + my favorite teacher was a plus.

least favorite subject at school: math

what’s your best character trait: traumatic sarcasm

what’s your worst character trait: goldfish brain, I promise I just get so distracted or forget stuff. Out of sight out of mind; I work too much.

if you could change any detail of your life right now what would it be? grim truth: I’d want to bring back my late husband but I know better than to mess with time or the balance of the universe. allons-y!!!

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? alan rickman. Idk how, but I’d do it.

@lonewolflupe @eclec-tech @badbatchposts @wings-and-beskargam @returnofthepineapple @jetii @baddest-batchers I’m always down to learn more about everyone if you wanna share. Respect if you don’t <3 vode please feel free to join in if you haven’t been tagged too

Get to know your mutuals!

What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!

OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad

Favorite color: Red!

Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!

Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC

Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol

Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!

If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha

Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.

Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.

Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas

Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.

Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha

Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately

What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service

Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha

Favorite food: Sushi!

Favorite animal: Cats!

What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do

Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class

Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol

What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others

What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy

Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!

@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer

ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!

[coldjustness-archive]

TAG DROP 001.

[ ooc. ] one. one thousand. two. one thousand. three. and now my patience is up.

[ ic. ] chase the right bastard through the wrong ritual it'll knock you right out. of course. you might wake up with a new accessory.

[ answered: ooc. ] it is better to ask a question than to sit on your hands and let it fester.

[ answered: ic. ] most papers don't say much but read between the lines you pickup a thing or two.

[ psa. ] hear ye! hear ye! use that thing on the inside of your head or be doomed!

[ saved. ] i'm like a dragon with the things I like. I'll horde them forever.

[ prompts / memes. ] im not picky. i got a cup and it does the job. that's all I ask.

[ reflections ] I'm fighting rook. sometimes it feels like the city itself stabs me in the back.

[ introspection ] its not what keeps me up at night. its not the quiet. I never could sleep once work gets in my head.

[ crack. ] sing your praises and you still want something! I'll find you a treat if you don't tell davrin. have we got a deal?

[ salt. ] that's the worst-case scenario. but all too often; the most pessimistic speculation turns out to be the closest to the truth.

[ birthday. ] it's my hatch day! Im allowed to be happy and irresponsible.

[ self promotion. ] apparently I could something clever here but I am too lazy for that.

[ promotion. ] I like this blog. I think it's neat. it deserve attention. everyone! look here!

[iced-souls]

Back to that school stickor saeson, and so here be the ones i made this year.

Sadly none of them made it out of the printer intact, as we have put it, suffered nuclear blast damage… rip 😔