#but he just pushes them away. Everyone point and laugh

[dragon-ascent]

Hi hi hi!!! I absolutely adore your Zhongli fics your characterization of him makes me swoon he’s such a cutie

Out of curiosity, what’s your opinion on the Zhongli/Morax x reader trope of reader initially being a sacrifice to the dragon god only for Zhongli to be like “What no I don’t take sacrifices???” And just taking reader in as a sort of roommate or something like that. It’s a trope I find really interesting and funny and I’m curious to hear your thoughts on it :)

Hi hi and thank you! Zhongli's the cutest patootie :) <3 And I freaking LOVE that trope!!! Like, easily top 3 trope for Zhongli if you ask me. (I could make a whole tierlist of tropes for him, but that's a post for another day haha.)

Ik you just asked for thoughts but have a little write-up, as a treat. :)

xxx

Rex Lapis is a tad offended that he'd be perceived as the type of god to take human sacrifices, since he does everything in his power to ensure mortals feel comfortable and safe around him. But he's assimilated many groups of people into his land, so it's only natural some may still retain the beliefs and customs they did under the deities preceding him, as grim as that may be.

When you're left in front of his abode as a sacrifice, he sees how urgently he needs to rectify those customs.

You're a jittery thing, all nerves and shudders and, to his dismay, rather scantily-clad especially given the season. He does his best to push the implications of your clothing to the back of his mind as he brings you into his home and warms you up by the fire with some nice warm blankets too.

He assures you he will not lay a finger on you with malicious intent, but you're staring at him like a deer in headlights - like he'll throw you into the fire at any moment if you so much as breathe wrong. Every movement of his makes you stiffen, and even the tea he brews for you is met with trepidation in every sip.

He can't send you back to your people as they'll believe you're a faulty sacrifice and kill you off themselves - so Rex Lapis takes you in his care instead.

He feeds you, clothes you, and even lets you rest in his bed while he takes the floor beside you. You're mostly quiet at first, but as the days pass and there's no sign of him hurting, devouring, or killing you, a seed of trust in his words blossoms. You believe the God of Contracts when he gives you his word he will keep you safe and cared for.

Given the way he treats you, there's no reason to feel otherwise - you've become something of a close companion to him, someone to share the tender joys and sorrows of life with. He used to go on strolls by his lonesome, but now he finds that having someone to walk with is much more enriching, giving his evenings an added tinge of fulfilment.

People do stare and whisper when they see you by the god's side, but if this is how Rex Lapis chooses to make use of their 'sacrifice,' who are they to argue?

Some watch, agog, as the golden deity takes you to the market and practically splurges on you. You shyly point to a sweet treat that looks appetizing, and he boxes a dozen of them without a moment's hesitation. A pretty accessory catches your eye for a second longer than the others, and when you turn to move on to the next stall, Rex Lapis is having said accessory taken off display and handed to you.

"These are the calligraphy brushes I spoke of yesterday," he tells you casually as he runs a finger along the sleek wooden writing instruments. "Would you like to give the activity a try?" It only takes one meek nod from you for him to get you a whole set of the brushes, promising to teach you when you both get home.

It's a shocking sight to everyone who'd betrayed you, everyone who'd so easily given you up for some false belief they held on to so stubbornly: here you are, being treated like you're actually worth something to the god, what with the way he smiles and laughs softly at something you say, the way he gently touches your elbow to veer you away from the evening rush, the way his footsteps fall in rhythm with yours.

As you pass certain familiar faces, your head snaps down and you fall silent, and Rex Lapis immediately knows they're the ones responsible for your plight. He throws them a sharp, stone-cold glare over your downcast head, and they recoil in fright, quickly turning the other way to pretend they can't feel like a whole landslide of shame now hurtles along their spines.

Needless to say, he is greeted by no more human sacrifices at his door. The one he does have, he ensures a long, happy and healthy life for.

[monayen]

ik it’s early to ask this but can I bother you for mistletoe kiss headcanons when the time is right? including the ratmen please :)

Mistletoe Headcannons

➷ Paring - Multi x GN!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - light biting, light sexual references so not really sfw

a/n - 'pologies that this is a little late :-( meant to get it out exactly on christmas but alas life happens. new phone though! i hope everyone has a happy holidays, this will be my crappy late gift to you

Luther

Luther is so excited about kissing under the mistletoe! He's an unironic hallmark movie fan, so he knows all about the “romantic tradition” It’s picturesque in his mind, pine needle scent candles and a lit fireplace on the screen of the TV

Everything is meticulously placed, along with the mistletoe hanging right above the living room doorway

His silhouette faces yours completely, motioning to the green leaves above you two, “Ah, a mistletoe. You do know the tradition, right? ♡”

A large hand gently cups your face, him taking a step closer. He made sure to look extra dashing (get it?) just for you, adoring how you blush

His touch is feather-light, lips brushing against yours gently as he pulls in. It's exactly like a hallmark movie kiss, the only thing missing being a soft piano playing in the background. But he's sure he can have that arranged for next time

Nyen

Never was a big fan of the holidays, thinks it's too bright and gets tired of the same songs playing over and over again

When you point to the green plant hanging above both of your heads, he scoffs, clearly unimpressed, but doesn’t budge from his spot

“It’s just decoration,” he spits, watching as your lips press into a thin line, a flicker of disappointment crossing your face. You turn to walk away, but before you can take a step, a firm hand wraps around your arm, stopping you

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is low, almost quiet, as though he’s asking you to stay, but not sure how to say it

He doesn't have to say anything more though — because lips quickly meet yours, deep and rough as he presses closer to you. He can't help but smirk when he bites your lip just enough to make you wince

Nyon

Enjoys Christmas quite a lot! Maybe more so the winter season, as he's always been accustomed to the cold. Finds a strange sense of peace in the chill of the air and the quiet of the snow. Sounds quite poetic

He’s the first to notice the mistletoe hanging above you two, wide eyes flicking up to it. You notice his demeanor immediately, realizing what hangs above

Nyon’s gaze shifts toward you, meeting yours as you gesture. Without a word, he steps a little closer, but allows you to close the distance. The kiss is brief and gentle, like the soft press of his hand on the small of your back

No words follow the tender moment, but neither of you feels the need for them. After a pause, he pulls a baggie from his pocket — “My plug gave me a holiday discount. I can share?”

Randal

Takes full advantage of a mistletoe. It's almost unbelievable how many sprigs seem to appear where you’d least expect them. but lo and behold…

And every time, he’s under it with you — grinning, nudging you closer, and laughing as he pulls you in, his lips colliding with yours in a messy kiss

He’ll give nonsensical reasons to get you to kiss him, ranging from, “Ho-ho, Santa demands a kiss or the elves will perish. That's what he told me.” to “Actually I’m Santa, you should sit on my lap after this!”

Either way, it doesn't matter what he says beforehand. He’ll always push his body against yours, biting at your lips before shoving his tongue deep down your throat. What a perfect gift you are!

Sebastian

Classic fan of Christmas, likes eggnog and snuggling up in a warm, soft blanket. It’s comforting, looking forward to the same songs, movies, and decorations around the holidays. Of course it's different now, but at least Randal lets up with some of the tormenting for the sake of being on the “nice” list

One thing he does look forward to here is the chance to be under the mistletoe with you. It sounds cheesy, but his heart patters at the idea

It’s adorable how he immediately turns beat red once it really does happen. His god awful ugly Christmas sweater suddenly feels suffocating, and even though he's been looking forward to being romantic, he suddenly can't move to place his lips on yours

Thankfully, you're ever so kind to cup his face and lean in before he can nervously back out. His warmth spreads to you, both of you melting into the kiss. His hand laces into yours, quickly sputtering a “Merry Christmas” once it unfortunately has to break

The Ratmen

It's a terrible mistake to bring up the idea of a mistletoe to the ratmen. They are beyond excited for celebrating Christmas in general, but an actual act where they have an excuse to kiss you? You can see them perk up in real time

You might as well be set up in a kissing booth, because each will demand pressing up against you. They won't ever get tired of it — “Can Christmas be everyday?”

Robert is probably the most normal about it, simply holding at your waist as he leans in for a deep kiss. Micheal is too eager, head tilted mid kiss as he holds his light weight against you. He moans in the middle of it. Ratman 3 is quick with his, and part of you thinks he might prefer the innocence of a peck on the cheek rather than a full kiss. Ratman 4 is gentle enough, but his kiss is almost always cut short by Ratman 5 shoving him out the way. Ratman 5 bites, he just can't help getting too excited

[sunshineyuyu]

chained, part 2 (c. jh)

★ summary: after finally confessing to each other, you and jongho enjoy the morning in bed together, until you’re rudely interrupted by his roommate. ★ pairing: jongho x f!reader ★ genre: fluff, smut (mdni!), college ★ word count: 2k ★ tags/warnings: vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), piv sex (with a condom!), reader calls jongho sir, jongho calls reader babygirl/baby, slight dom/sub undertones?, roommate!san ★ notes: i originally had a small epilogue scene written and scrapped it, but since i got some amazing feedback for part 1, i decided to rework it into a this small part 2 as a thank you to everyone!! hope you enjoy :3 ★ masterlist | read on ao3 | part 1

the next morning when you wake up, you’re cuddled into jongho’s side, wearing his old high school football shirt, in his bed. you nose the underside of his jaw. he groans a little and pushes you away from him.

“hey!” you say, a little disoriented by how he shoves you aside like a blanket and not a body.

“my arm is asleep,” he moans in response, massaging his bicep with his other hand. his voice is gruff and low, dripping with sleep, and you feel your pulse drop lower at the velvety sound.

“are you calling me fat?” you say, rolling over to bracket his hips with your knees, your hands pressed into his chest. your hair falls over one shoulder like a curtain.

“nah,” jongho says, smirking a little as his hands fall lower to palm your ass. “but your ass is kinda thick, though.”

you wrinkle your nose. “you don’t talk like that.”

jongho laughs, a deep rumble that’s even sexier with his morning voice.

“so are we doing this?” he says, fondly.

“doing what?” you say, as if you aren’t subtly grinding against his crotch.

his right hand stays on your ass, nudging it slightly to keep going, while the other one slides up your front until he settles it against your jaw, his thumb rubbing at your cheek.

“this,” he murmurs, bucking up suddenly against you. you bounce and shriek, losing your balance and falling forward enough so that he can meet your lips with his. it’s close-mouthed, all lips, probably for the sake of your respective morning breaths, but it’s intimate and sends shivers down your spine.

“i like you,” he mumbles, kissing the corner of your mouth, and then your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

“i like you, too,” you breathe back.

“just making sure last night wasn’t a dream,” jongho says, mouthing at your pulse point.

“no, it wasn’t,” you assure him.

“let’s eat breakfast,” jongho says, pulling back and meeting your gaze with his soft one.

“i thought we were about to have sweet sweet morning sex,” you say, pouting.

he hums. “who says you aren’t breakfast?”

you gape at him, just as he grabs your hips harshly and flips you both over. you thump against the mattress while giggling.

“i like you a lot,” you laugh while he nuzzles your neck.

“good.”

that one syllable word that plagued you for the past week sounds so sweet now when it’s being whispered into your skin.

jongho pushes your shirt up above your chest so that your breasts are exposed. your nipples pebble easily under his hooded gaze, and you arch your back when he fits his mouth around one of them. they’re still tender from last night, and jongho seems to know this, because he’s gentle as he nips and laps at the bud before moving over to the other one.

by the time jongho pulls back, you’re nearly panting with arousal. he sits on his hind legs to admire his handiwork. he’d wrecked you so thoroughly last night that you hadn’t washed off your makeup before falling asleep, so you assume you’re a debauched mess. but the way jongho looks down at you so reverently makes you feel beautiful.

hoping to move things along, you start to take off your—his—shirt, but then jongho growls, “no, keep it on.”

“oh?” you say.

“i’ve seen you wear san’s shirts long enough,” he says. “you’re only allowed to wear mine, now.” he’s being possessive, and you like it, but you can also hear the slight pout in his voice.

“yes, sir,” you say, and you mean it in a joking way, but then you see something flash in jongho’s eyes.

you grin. “you like that? sir?”

“yeah,” he says quietly. “yeah, i like that a lot, baby.”

“yeah? then—would you please hurry up, sir?” this time, you practically purr the word to him, fluttering your eyelashes and trailing your fingers along his forearms.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

he does hurry up, pushing you up the bed while he moves down it. you’d forgone underwear while sleeping since they’d been ruined, and jongho groans when he’s face to face with your cunt.

“so fucking pretty,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

he starts slow, lapping gently at your clit which is still a little sensitive. by the time he properly fits his mouth over you and fucks his tongue into your cunt, you’re a whining, squirming mess. soon, he trades his tongue for two fingers, and he moves back to your clit. while he sucks on it, he finger fucks you, curling them just right to hit the spot that makes you keen.

“nng—! fuck, feels so good, jongho!” you moan.

he pulls back abruptly, and you whimper.

“jongho?” he questions, low and slightly menacing.

you gasp as you remember. “—sir!” you correct.

“mmm.” he smiles as he hums against your pussy. “good girl.”

“pl- please, sir!” you beg as he returns to his ministrations, but all slow like how he started. you moan in frustration because you know that he’s doing it on purpose to tease you. “please, i was so close!”

“i know, babygirl, i know,” jongho coos at you, still working his fingers leisurely in and out of you. his thumb grazes your clit just barely, but it’s enough to make you jolt and whine. “just a little longer—okay? then i’ll make you cum.”

but jongho can’t actually make good on the promise, because you’re unceremoniously interrupted by a knock on the door from san. the sound you make in surprise must be loud, because the knocks pause, and then you hear,

“jongho? was that you?”

you and jongho make eye contact at the same time, both silently panicking. 

“what do we say?” you hiss.

“i don’t know!” jongho returns, curling his fingers in you unintentionally, and you let out a squeak as he brushes against that spot again. jongho claps a hand over your mouth.

“oh! are you—?”

“one second!” jongho calls, finally extracting his fingers from inside you. you scramble under the covers, pulling jongho’s comforter up above your head despite how hot you feel from having an impending orgasm ripped away from you and from the embarrassment of your best friend discovering you in bed with his roommate.

jongho opens the door, and you hear him say: “hey.” you stifle a laugh at his poor attempt at a casual tone.

“morning,” san says, drawing out the o. “you don’t- you don’t usually keep them around for the morning.” he whispers this, but the room is so silent you can hear him.

“shut up,” jongho says, and you hear the door close. you peek up above the covers and see that jongho must’ve stepped outside to continue the conversation. against your better judgement, you push aside the sheets and squat down next to the door so that you can eavesdrop.

you hear dull thud like jongho might’ve punched san in the arm.

“ow,” san says. “am i wrong? you usually always shoo them out at night.”

“this isn’t- this isn’t like those times,” jongho says sheepishly.

“what does that mean?” san says. “is this- is this someone you’re serious about? who is it? don’t you- um- don’t you have a thing for y/n?”

“i- it—” jongho’s at a loss for words. “it is y/n,” jongho finally sighs.

“it’s—!” there’s a pregnant pause, and then you hear loud slaps as san claps jongho on the back. “you motherfucker,” san says, a little amused and a little exasperated. “so that’s why we couldn’t find either of you last night!”

“yeah,” jongho mutters.

“y/n? omygosh–y/n, come out!” san calls. after slipping into a random pair of jongho’s sweats, you oblige by springing out of his room with a grin.

“fucking finally,” san says, as you bound up to hug him.

“right?” you say, laughing.

“why are you two celebrating?” jongho grumbles, but when you turn to look at him, you can tell he’s fighting a smile.

san claps his hands together. “okay! well then, i’m gonna pop down and get us some bagels!” he pulls out his phone to check the time and hums. “i will be back in approximately 30 minutes! that should be enough time for you two to finish, right?” 

“jesus christ,” jongho moans, dragging a hand over his face.

“thanks, san!” you sing, grabbing jongho’s wrist and pulling him towards his bedroom.

“he’s gonna be a menace to us, isn’t he?” jongho asks, as you lay back on the bed and drag him down with you.

“to you, yeah!” you say cheerfully, wiggling out of the sweats. “now, i think i’m owed an orgasm, and we only have 30 minutes!”

“oh, don’t worry, baby,” jongho smiles, his qualms with san forgotten as you spread your legs for him. he crouches down to resume his position between your thighs, hands massaging the meat there and hot breath fanning across your cunt. “that’s plenty of time.”

after that, he makes you cum in record time (“we still have 25 minutes,” he says coyly, making a show of checking the little clock on his nightstand while grabbing a condom). then, he flips you over, presses gently between your shoulder blades so that you arch perfectly for him, and finally finally slips his cock into you.

it’s the perfect size for you—a nice stretch without being painful—and hits all the right spots inside. his thick thighs come in use for maintaining deep and consistent strokes that have you whining and fisting the sheets. you’re glad that san has fully vacated the apartment, because there is nothing quiet about how jongho is fucking you.

“god, you’re perfect,” he says, each syllable punctuated with a toe-curling thrust. 

all you can do is whimper in reply.

“yeah? feel good, babygirl?”

“yes!” you gasp.

he smirks. “yes, what?”

“yes, sir,” you moan.

“good girl.”

eventually, jongho pulls out to turn you onto your back. you’re all limp limbs at this point, deliriously on the brink of another orgasm and so malleable to his touch. he rests your calves against his perfect, broad shoulders and leans down to give you a kiss. his silver chain falls forward with him, and you giggle when it catches in between your lips.

“oh, shit, sorry,” he says, but you chase after the thing with your teeth.

his breath hitches when he sees you grin up at him, still biting onto the chain. “dreamt about this,” you hum.

“oh, yeah?”

and then he pushes back into you. the chain falls out of your mouth as you moan, but it dangles deliciously above you as he finally brings you both to orgasm.

“fuck,” he grunts as he spills into the condom.

“i can’t feel my legs,” you say, chest heaving and body positively buzzing. in the past twelve hours, every orgasm with jongho has been nothing short of phenomenal, and the sheer quantity of them is catching up to you. “i don’t think i can move.”

meanwhile jongho is already standing up and moving around the room to dispose of the condom and clean up. he laughs. “you’re gonna give me an ego.”

“you deserve it,” you say. “sir,” you tack on. 

“oh my god,” jongho says. “don’t act like you’re not into it, too!”

he descends on your sides, poking and prodding you until you both fall into breathless giggles. you love how easy it is with jongho. how you can move from intense sex to joking around to murmuring softly with each other.

it makes everything it took to get to this point feel worth it.

“we should go on a proper date, later,” jongho says, as he helps you into a new clean set of his clothes. 

“okay,” you agree. “where would we go?”

“mm, maybe sushi?” he suggests.

you hear the jangle of keys at the front door, signaling san’s return.

“i’m home!” he calls out, entirely too loud. “i have returned! with food!”

jongho rolls his eyes and you laugh, as the two of you join san in the kitchen for breakfast.

[mhsofe]

Reunion With The Crew | Jimmy × Reader.

♡ in this au, the pony express shuts down and all of them just pretty much have normal lifes lol

(pretty much kinda ooc but idc, i want all of them to be happy 💔)

CW: mild language, alcohol consumption, SLIGHTTTT mouth to mouth feed. (bare with me ladies and gentlemens..)

You walked into the living room where Jimmy was sprawled on the couch, completely engrossed in the TV. His eyes flickered to you for a brief second before he turned his attention back to the screen.

"Jimmy."

No response.

"Jimmy."

Silence. You crossed your arms, a little frustrated, and tried again.

"Hey, babe," you said, this time with more authority in your voice. Your tone caught his attention, and he finally let out a grunt, slowly turning his head toward you. "What? Can't you see I'm watchin' TV?"

You shook your head with a small, amused smile and sat down beside him, showing him your phone screen. "Well, I got a text from Daisuke," you said, tapping the message to make sure he saw it. "He's inviting us to his house for a reunion."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, scanning the text, then glanced at you with mild curiosity. "Hm. So, ya wanna go to his house?"

You could practically feel the enthusiasm bubbling inside you. You’d been wanting a reason to catch up with everyone, and this felt like the perfect opportunity. You gave him a wide grin and nodded. "Of course! The others are also coming, and it’s been so long since we’ve all, you know... met up or done something together. It's a great chance for a little reunion!"

Jimmy looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, like he was weighing the options in his head. His eyes softened after a second, and he let out a long sigh. "Fine, maybe catching up with Curly wouldn't be so bad."

He pushed himself up from the couch, stretching with a grunt. His gaze fell on you again as he towered over you. "Get ready, babe."

You couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across your face, and before you even realized it, you lunged at his back, wrapping your arms around him in an unexpected hug. "I knew you’d accept!" you exclaimed, laughing into his shoulder.

You pulled away, feeling a little giddy as you ran to the shared bedroom to get ready for the night. Jimmy watched you for a moment, still smiling, before grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading toward the door.

A few minutes later, you stepped out of the bedroom, fully ready, and made your way toward the front door where Jimmy was waiting. As soon as you appeared, he couldn't help but take an appreciative look, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. He slightly leaned against the wall, clearly caught off guard by how stunning you looked.

"Damn," was all he managed to say, his voice low and full of admiration, his gaze lingering on you with no attempt to hide it.

You let out a light chuckle, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Eyes up here, mister," you teased, pointing toward your face.

Jimmy quickly cleared his throat, blinking a couple of times as he snapped out of his daze. "Well, damn baby," he said, his voice rougher now with genuine appreciation. "You look... good." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered but still smirking as he tried to regain some composure.

You grinned, feeling both flattered and amused by the effect you had on him. Jimmy pulled his keys out of his pocket, fumbling slightly as he unlocked the door to the car. "Let's go," he said, trying to sound casual but with a hint of excitement in his voice. "We wouldn’t want our friends to keep waiting."

As he opened the door, you slid into the passenger seat, feeling the warmth of the moment. Jimmy hopped in next to you, his smile never fading as he started the car. The drive to Daisuke’s place was filled with light conversation and laughter, the anticipation of the night ahead adding a spark to the atmosphere.

As you arrived at Daisuke's house, the excitement bubbling inside you was impossible to ignore. The lights from the house glowed warmly, and you could hear faint chatter and laughter from inside. The thought of seeing everyone again made your heart race.

Jimmy pulled the car up to the porch and barely had time to put it in park before you were out, slamming the door shut in your eagerness. "Easy on the car!" he called out, a hint of amusement in his tone, as he quickly followed behind you.

You practically bounced up the steps and rang the doorbell, unable to stop yourself from smiling. A few seconds passed before the door was flung open with dramatic energy. Standing there was none other than Daisuke, grinning wide as he looked at you and Jimmy.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up!" Daisuke said, his voice full of mock scolding but with a warm undertone. He looked you up and down with an exaggerated whistle. "Damn, looking sharp! And Jimmy, good to see you didn’t let her outshine you completely."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, smirking. "Yeah, yeah, let us in before you freeze the whole neighborhood."

Daisuke laughed and stepped aside, motioning for the two of you to come in. As you stepped inside, the familiar buzz of conversation and the sound of clinking glasses filled the air. The living room was full of familiar faces, and the cozy warmth of the space made you feel right at home.

"Everyone’s here already," Daisuke said, gesturing to the group. "So grab a drink and join the party!"

"Where the hell is Anya?! I miss that girl!" you shouted, your voice carrying over the buzz of the room. As you looked around, your eyes landed on a familiar figure ahead of you. Without hesitation, you gasped and quickly lunged forward, arms wide open.

"ANYAAA!" you yelled, wrapping your arms around her from behind. The poor woman let out a startled gasp, stumbling slightly under the force of your hug.

"Oh, God, you scared me," Anya said with a soft laugh, turning her head to look at you. Despite the surprise, her smile was warm and genuine. "It’s been too long!" she added, patting your arm affectionately as she caught her breath.

Jimmy, who had been watching the interaction with mild amusement, suddenly tensed up when he felt a hand land firmly on his shoulder. Instinctively, he turned quickly, ready to react, only to be met with the wide grin of another familiar face.

"Jimmy! Nice to see you, man!" Curly’s voice was full of enthusiasm, his grip on Jimmy’s shoulder strong and friendly.

Jimmy relaxed, a smirk forming on his face. "Curly," he greeted with a nod. "Still as loud as ever, I see."

"Of course!" Curly laughed, throwing an arm around Jimmy’s shoulders. "Wouldn’t be me otherwise, huh? And look at you two," he added, glancing between you and Jimmy. "Still the power couple, huh?"

You laughed, finally letting go of Anya. "You know it!" you said, giving Jimmy a playful nudge. Anya smiled softly at the reunion, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It’s good to see everyone again," she said, her voice warm.

"Alright, come on, drinks are in the kitchen," Curly announced, gesturing for the group to follow him. "We’ve got a lot of catching up to do!"

As the four of you made your way into the living room, the scene was already lively. Daisuke and Swansea were busy arranging platters of food on the table, their banter filling the air. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you realized you hadn’t brought anything to contribute.

"Damn, I should've brought something," you muttered, guilt lacing your voice as you crossed your arms.

Before you could dwell on it further, you felt a comforting weight on your left shoulder. Jimmy had leaned in close, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Hey, it’s fine. Just enjoy the party, baby."

His voice, low and soothing, immediately melted your worries. You smiled softly, stealing a glance at him before looking back at the lively scene in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you shook off the guilt. "Well, let’s get this party started!" you declared with a grin, your excitement taking over.

"WOOHOOO!" Daisuke hollered, suddenly standing on top of a very expensive-looking chair, waving a bottle of soda around like a trophy.

Swansea, clearly unimpressed, let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his temple. "Get the hell down, youngster," he warned, picking up a brightly colored piñata stick with a dramatic flair, "before I swing this piñata axe straight into your face."

The room erupted into laughter, Curly doubling over as he clapped his hands. "Swansea, man, you’re one,of,a,kind!"

Daisuke, unbothered, raised his soda bottle higher. "You wouldn’t dare! I’m the life of this party!"

Swansea cocked an eyebrow, his expression deadpan. "Try me."

Jimmy chuckled beside you, shaking his head at the chaos. "Same group, same energy," he muttered with amusement, slipping an arm around your waist.

You leaned into him, laughing along with the others. "Well, let’s get some snacks. I’m hungry," you said, breaking away from the commotion and nudging Jimmy lightly.

Jimmy nodded, but as you turned toward the table, his gaze lingered on you. His eyes naturally found their way to your lips, his thoughts momentarily wandering as he followed you across the room.

"Jimmy?" you called, glancing over your shoulder when you noticed he hadn’t responded.

"Huh?" he blinked, snapping out of it and clearing his throat, quickly trying to play it cool. "Yeah, snacks. Let’s grab some."

You raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips. "You okay there? Seemed a little distracted," you teased lightly, turning fully to face him.

Jimmy scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks faintly flushing. "Yeah, I’m fine," he said, his voice a little gruffer than usual. "Just... thinking about how lucky I am."

Your smirk softened into a smile as you stepped closer, playfully poking his chest. "You’re smooth, you know that?"

He shrugged, his lips curling into a small, cocky grin. "Only for you, baby."

Shaking your head, you grabbed his hand and led him toward the table where Swansea had just finished arranging an impressive array of snacks. "Come on, let’s eat before Daisuke wipes the table clean."

Jimmy laughed, following your lead. "Good point. That guy’s got no chill when it comes to food."

The two of you grabbed plates and filled them with whatever caught your eye, the warmth of the moment making the party feel even more perfect.

After both of you finished piling food onto your plates, you led Jimmy over to the couch. The two of you settled in, balancing your plates as the lively chatter of the party buzzed around you.

As you looked at the table in front of you, your eyes lit up when you spotted a bottle of alcohol. Grinning, you picked it up and held it out to Jimmy. "Look, Jimmy, alcohol," you said, your voice laced with playful excitement.

Jimmy glanced at the bottle, his lips curling into a smirk, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Well, well," he said, leaning back and eyeing it like it was a prize. "You know I can’t say no to that."

You chuckled, opening the bottle and grabbing two glasses from the table. "I thought as much. Let’s toast to tonight, yeah?"

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "To tonight? What about?"

"To seeing old friends," you said with a soft smile, pouring the drink into both glasses. "And to us, of course."

Jimmy took one of the glasses, his expression softening as he looked at you. "To us," he echoed, clinking his glass against yours before taking a sip.

The alcohol burned just right as it went down, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Jimmy winced slightly. "Strong, huh?" you teased.

"Yeah, but it’s good," he replied, smirking as he set his glass down. "Just like this night."

You leaned back into the couch, savoring the moment as the warmth of the drink mixed with the warmth of the company. It was shaping up to be a night you wouldn’t forget.

Jimmy picked up a small piece of food from his plate, holding it out to you. "Here, have some of mine," he said, his voice soft yet teasing. You leaned forward, parting your lips slightly as you took the food from his fingers.

Your lips lingered just a moment too long, wrapping around the tips of his fingers before pulling away. The heat in his gaze met yours, and the room seemed to grow quieter, the world fading away as the two of you locked eyes. The eye contact was intense-too damn strong

Jimmy's breath hitched as he felt the light graze of your tongue against his skin, his heart skipping a beat. His fingers twitched slightly, as though they wanted to stay where they were, but he pulled his hand back slowly, his gaze never leaving yours.

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you noticed the faint flush rising on his cheeks. The expression in his eyes was a mix of surprise, desire, and something softer..something he always reserved just for you

"Careful... don't be a tease now," he warned with a small, crooked smile, though his voice was slightly breathless, betraying how affected he was. His words carried a mix of amusement and affection, but there was an underlying edge of desire that sent a thrill down your spine. You leaned back slightly, licking your lips in a way that felt deliberate.

"Who, me?" you asked innocently, though the playful glint in your eyes said otherwise. Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head, his hand moving to rest on your knee. "You're dangerous, you know that?" he murmured, his tone a little lower, a little rougher.

You chuckled as you grabbed the bottle of champagne and took a deep swig, the fizzy drink going down a little too smoothly. Jimmy watched, his eyes slightly widening at how quickly you drank. A mixture of worry and amusement flashed across his face. He leaned closer, placing a steadying hand on your thigh. "Hey, hey, careful now," he said gently, his thumb lightly brushing against your leg.

"Don't drink too fast, or you'll be out before the party's even halfway done." Jimmy looked at you with concern. "Noo, it's mineee," you slurred, hiccupping as the alcohol began working its way into your system.

Jimmy couldn't help but chuckle softly at your stubborn protest, though his concern lingered. "Yeah, and you'll be all mine to babysit if you keep this up," he teased, reaching for the bottle as if to stop you. You narrowed your eyes at him, mischief sparking in your expression.

Before he could react, you leaned in, pinning him gently against the couch. Your hand grasped his chin firmly as you closed the space between you, your lips capturing his in a bold, alcohol..fueled kiss.

The taste of champagne lingered between you, sweet and intoxicating, as some of it spilled from your lips and trailed down his chin. Jimmy's hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you closer, though his mind was half-focused on the chaos of the situation. As you both got lost in the moment, the sound of a door swinging open jolted you back to reality.

"WHOA, GUYS, WHAT'S GOING ON OVER HERE?" Daisuke's voice rang out, loud and dramatic, causing the entire room to pause.

Your head snapped up, cheeks flushing as you turned to see Daisuke standing there with his hands on his hips, a mix of shock and delight plastered on his face. Behind him, Anya looked completely stunned, her jaw slightly dropped. Curly, ever the instigator, raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Well, well, look who's stealing the show." And as always, Swansea remained unimpressed, shaking his head with a long sigh. "Oh, these kids," he muttered, rubbing his temple.

Jimmy groaned, tilting his head back against the couch in exasperation. "Great. Just great," he muttered, though the faintest smile tugged at his lips. You couldn't help but laugh, the embarrassment fading as the ridiculousness of the situation settled in.

"Guess we're the life of the party now," you said with a grin, wiping the champagne from Jimmy's chin. "Yeah, but next time," Jimmy said, giving you a pointed look, "maybe a little warning first?"

The others gradually returned to their conversations, leaving you, Jimmy, and Curly in your little corner of the room. Curly leaned casually against the arm of the couch, his mischievous grin growing as he eyed Jimmy.

"So, Jimmy," he began, his voice dripping with mock innocence, "how was it getting… mouth-needed by your partner?"

Jimmy’s head snapped up, his face flushing a deep red as he glared at Curly. "Shut up, Curly," he muttered through gritted teeth, rubbing the back of his neck in a futile attempt to hide his embarrassment.

You, still feeling the buzz from the champagne, let out a laugh, your head tilting as you watched the scene unfold. Curly’s grin widened at your reaction, clearly encouraged.

"Aw, come on, man," Curly continued, leaning in like he was about to share a juicy secret. "Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it. You looked like you were in a whole other world for a second there."

Jimmy groaned, dragging a hand down his face as if to wipe away the secondhand embarrassment. "Curly, I swear to God, drop it," he said, though his tone carried more resignation than anger.

You, finding the whole exchange amusing, raised your glass lazily. "It’s not like that," you slurred slightly, waving a hand dismissively. "We’re just... having fun, you know?"

Curly raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Fun, huh? Sure, I’ll buy that. But the way you two were looking at each other? Whew, sparks flying all over the place. Can’t blame a guy for noticing."

Jimmy’s groan deepened as he slouched further into the couch, his hand covering his eyes. "Why do I even talk to you?" he mumbled, though his lips twitched as if fighting back a smile.

Curly laughed, clearly pleased with himself. "Because you love me, bro. And because you know I’m right."

You chuckled softly, reaching out to pat Jimmy’s leg. "Relax, babe," you teased, leaning in slightly. "At least Curly’s paying attention to something other than his hair for once."

Curly gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Wow, betrayal from both sides. I see how it is."

The playful banter eased the tension, leaving Jimmy shaking his head and muttering under his breath while you and Curly shared a laugh. Moments like these made the chaos of your friend group feel oddly perfect.

Finally, after Curly sauntered off, satisfied with the chaos he’d caused, Jimmy turned his attention back to you. He sighed, rubbing his temple briefly before his hand moved to gently grip your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes met his.

Your tipsy smile faltered slightly as the intensity in his gaze caught you off guard. Leaning in close, his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, his voice low and teasing, "I’ll have to teach you a lesson, eh?"

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and your hazy mind struggled to keep up with the sudden shift in mood. His chuckle rumbled softly as he leaned back slightly to take in your expression, amused by the mixture of surprise and playfulness on your face.

"You think you can just get away with all that teasing?" he added, his tone a mix of affection and mock sternness. "You’re lucky I love you, or I might actually make you pay for it."

You giggled, swaying slightly as your hands instinctively rested on his chest. "Oh, come on," you slurred, grinning up at him. "You wouldn’t dare."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Try me," he said, his hand slipping from your chin to your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

The tension between you lingered for a moment before the sound of someone yelling from the other room broke the spell. "Oi! You two lovebirds better not be starting something again!" Daisuke’s voice echoed, drawing laughter from the rest of the group.

Jimmy sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "Saved by the bell," he murmured, letting go of you but keeping his hand lightly on your hip.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into him slightly. "You’ll just have to wait for your ‘lesson,’ huh?" you teased, earning a playful glare from him.

"Don’t push your luck," he muttered, though the fondness in his tone was impossible to miss.

---------

[luvsyouaria]

Late nights. Pt.1

Frat!Rafe x gf!reader

Pls look up “Frat” on Spotify nd play the first playlist 🙏 istg it’s soo good at like immersing yourself in the story.

Having been there for 3 hours so far, your feet started cramping from you standing continuously. “Was’ up, baby?” — you feel a sickly hand snake around your waist. You quickly turn around only to realize it’s the infamous, JJ. “Just great..” you mumble, allowing your eyes to meet his. “Have you seen Rafe? I saw him early but I guess he just disappeared.” JJ says, removing his hand from your waist and glancing around over the crowd. “Yeah, he’s getting me a drink. He should be back in a sec, why?” You spoke, glancing down at your feet. ‘God they hurt like a bitch bro.’

“ah, I see him..oh- uh, hey y/n just stay here for a sec” JJ spoke, a sense of urgency in his tone. He keeps his eyes on rafe as he snakes through the crowd. Unbothered, as you typically are, you squat down and begin unstrapping your heels. “Fuck me man..g- Get the fuck off me.” You mumble as you undo the lace straps of your heels, finally popping up and holding your heels high. Happy you got them off. In the midsts of you celebrating getting your shoes off, you begin to hear mumbles from the people around you. “Woah.” “Is that Rafe?” “Is that kemper?” “Yo..” “why does Rafe have those?” “Fight!”

“oh shit..” A sternness if your tone. You turn around and begin pushing through the crowd. “Shit shit shit” you said under your breath. As you get to the front of the crowd, you notice the amount of people who circled around Rafe and kemper. Rafe is standing in front of kemp, that look of possession and fury in his eyes. You couldn’t help but lowkey find him crazy attractive in this moment. You knock yourself out of your thoughts and listen to what the two are saying. ”why the fuck..where these in your room kemper?” Rates stern tone sent shivers down even your spine. You watch kemper throw his protective nonchalant persona on. “No idea, Rafe. I don’t know how they got in my room.” He spoke, shrugging his shoulders cockily. You watched rafes semi-calm expression turn to anger. “No idea my ass. Kemp, I swear to god if you don’t tell me how you got these I-“ He stops himself, crumpling the underwear in his hand and bringing his hands up to rest behind his head. “You’ll what, Rafe? You won’t do shit while your girls watching.” He laughs, that sickly smirk creeping onto his lips as he turns to point at me. “Aey, don’t fucking pull me into this shit.” You voiced, raising your hands in defense and taking a step back. Rafe looks up at you. ‘Fuck.’

“You know what? You’re so right, kemp. Cmon. Follow me outside.” Rafe says with a slight chuckle, almost maniac like, he places his hand on kempers shoulder. You notice the slight confusion on his face as he follows your boyfriend out the door. “Alright well that’s that guys! They’re gonna go make out! Get back to the party!” You said, your voice slightly raised. The music begins to play again and you starts gently pushing people away from the door and windows back to the main area. Knowing what your boyfriend is capable of when he’s in that state, you don’t want anyone to have to watch that go down.

Around 20 minutes later, you notice everyone’s heads turning. Again. Rolling your eyes, you turn around and you’re now face to face with your..sexy ass boyfriend. His fists red and bloody, sweat pooling at his forehead, breath heavy. “What the fuck? Are you okay?” “Yes, baby, I’m fine. You ready to go home?” He spoke softly, his eyes never leaving yours. He gently places a firm hand on your lower back. There was something about this state he’s in that never fails to make your stomach fill with butterflies, wishing it was being filled with something else… (tehe)

You nod. He smirks at you, looking down at your feet. “Where are your sh-“ he spoke, interrupted by your best friend, Kaylee, tapping his shoulder and holding out your heels. “Thanks Kay.” You whisper as he takes the shoes from her, grabbing your hand and making your way towards the front door.

(kk guys im so sorry, ik this absolutely sucks fat cock but it’s because I’m fairly new to writing fan fics / oneshots 😔🙏 I’ll be practicing more and trying to improve. If you can give me tips, PLEASE feel free to lmk.) REMINDER: this is only part ONE!

[nickgurl4life]

✦PAGES✦ chapter 3

CW: angst, crying, comfort, bullying (if I missed some, let me know!)

Summary: After making their relationship public, they find out how cruel people at school can be.

Announcement: I hope you enjoy chapter 3!! (MY first ever angst)

Series Link

In the beginning, being with Matt felt like stepping into something out of a dream. You thought it would be perfect—something simple, pure, and untouched by the chaos of the world around you. With him, it didn’t matter that you were popular or that he was labeled a nerd; all that mattered was how he made you feel. He saw you for who you truly were, not the version everyone else expected you to be. You’d laugh together during tutoring sessions, share quiet moments of understanding, and dream about what the future could hold. It felt safe, like nothing could touch the bubble you’d created together. But the world had a way of pushing back, and you hadn’t expected how cruel it could be when it didn’t understand something as genuine as what you and Matt had. The first time your so-called friends spotted you and Matt together, it was like their world tilted off its axis. They exchanged looks, laughter bubbling out in mocking waves, and one of them couldn’t resist muttering, “Is this some kind of joke? You and him?” At first, the remarks were subtle, easy enough to ignore. But it didn’t take long for them to escalate. Snickers turned into pointed insults whispered loudly in hallways, loud enough for others to hear. “Downgrading, aren’t we?” “Can’t believe you’re throwing it all away for that nerd.” The words hit harder than you expected, their sharp edges cutting deeper every time you heard them. It wasn’t just the comments; it was the way they looked at you now—like you were no longer the person they thought you should be.

You tried to keep your head high to tell yourself their opinions didn’t matter. You reminded yourself that Matt was worth so much more than their shallow judgments. But their constant ridicule wore you down, chipping away at your confidence bit by bit. You started dreading school, where the whispers felt like daggers in your back, and even after the final bell rang, their words echoed in your mind. At home, you plastered on a fake smile when Matt came over for tutoring, pretending nothing was wrong. But he noticed the changes—how your laughter didn’t sound quite the same, how your answers were clipped and distracted. “Are you okay?” Matt asked one evening, his voice gentle but insistent as he set down the textbook. His eyes searched yours, concern etched into every line of his face. You shrugged, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, just tired,” you lied, avoiding his gaze. He nodded slowly but didn’t look convinced. That night, after he left, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, wondering when you’d started believing their words. When had their voices drowned out your own? By the end of the week, the bullying had taken a toll.

The people you once called friends began ignoring you entirely, save for the occasional sneer or sarcastic comment. The isolation weighed on you, the silence from people who once filled your days feeling louder than their taunts. You stopped going to events, skipped out on social plans, and eventually started skipping your tutoring sessions with Matt. The guilt of dragging him into your mess felt unbearable. He didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire of your collapsing world. After a week of unanswered texts and missed calls, Matt decided to stop waiting for you to reach out. He showed up at your house unannounced, his face filled with worry when you opened the door. You looked pale, your clothes hanging loosely, and your eyes carried a dullness he hadn’t seen before. “What’s going on?” he asked softly, stepping inside before you could think of an excuse. His eyes swept over your room—the unmade bed, the untouched food on your desk, and the air of neglect that hung heavy in the space. “You’re not okay,” he said firmly, his voice breaking slightly. You tried to brush him off, mumbling something about being fine, but your voice cracked under the weight of your own words. Matt didn’t let it go. “You don’t have to pretend,” he said, his tone softer now as he sat beside you on the bed.

“Please, talk to me. Let me help.” For a moment, you hesitated, the walls you’d built around yourself, trembling. And then, like a dam breaking, everything spilled out—the bullying, the isolation, the way you’d started to believe their cruel words. Tears streamed down your face as Matt listened, his hand gently rubbing your back, his presence grounding you when your own thoughts felt overwhelming. In the days that followed, Matt became your anchor. He stayed by your side, coaxing you to eat when you’d lost the will to take care of yourself, bringing over snacks and reminding you that you needed to stay strong. “You don’t have to go through this alone,” he said one evening, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You’re worth so much more than what they’re saying. Don’t let them take that away from you.” Slowly, you started to believe him. With Matt’s unwavering support, you began cutting ties with the people who had dragged you down, leaning into the kindness and care he offered so freely. It wasn’t easy, and the road to recovery was far from smooth, but for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope. And with Matt by your side, you knew you could find your way back.

Dumbass, short, stupid chapter, I know, but this is just a part basically explaining the angst of what's going on when they made the relationship school public so :)

Taglist: @luvleyangeldust @emely9274 @pvssychicken @mattsslutt @chrislilcumslvt @cupiidk1lls @loud-sturniolos @p14th0mps0n @3xclus1vel0v3r @bilssturns @nateismybf @chrissweetheart @jassturn @kaybug88 @kennastromboli @goingtojohnkramershouseee @matthewsroses @whore4chris @trevorsgodmother @sweetshuga (if you want to be tagged, comment!)

[kyeterna]

I had rewatched durarara a couple of months ago after like never finishing the second season when it first came out (I have always had a really hard time keeping up with ongoing shows) and assigned memes to some characters, here's the result.

[nochepsicodelica]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" You raise your brows in disbelief.

"Really," he responds, so confidently.

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

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

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

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

"Who's to say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.

[comatosebunny09]

inebriated | sylus

— summary: you comment on how good he’s gotten at these domestic things, and his mouth twitches with a smile. for you, he would give up this menacing life he leads if it meant waking to your smile each day, dancing and kissing in the kitchen over pancakes and overdone eggs.  — cw: written with femme reader in mind, alcohol & drug use, mild language, tooth-rotting fluff, domestic bliss, sylus is down bad & probably ooc — notes: head empty, just vibes. i needed some domestic, self-indulgent fluff, and this is the result. thank you so much for reading. — now playing: waiting in vain - jordan ward

Sylus, but in the midst of a meeting. And it's all tense, everyone shifty-eyed and tight-lipped, trying to figure out the best way to expand Onychinus’ reach. But then, a particular ringtone breaks through the seemingly impenetrable silence that’s befallen the dimly-lit, smoke-laden room.

The gentleman beside Sylus stifles a laugh into his fist under the pretense of clearing his throat. Sylus gives him a look that bodes disaster as he fishes his phone from his pocket. Fearing for his life, the man glances away, straightening his tie.

With his cell poised in the air like a loaded gun, Sylus dares anyone else to comment on his choice of ringtone with a ticked brow and a swift survey around the room. Everyone pointedly looks elsewhere, hoping to leave with their lives intact.

Seeing as no one’s ballsy enough to contest him, the crime lord brings the phone to his ear, answering with a curt “Speak.”

“Mister Skye?”

The voice breaking through the static is most certainly not yours. And that notion has Sylus sitting up at breakneck speed, assuming the worst. That tense air from before returns, slung over everyone’s shoulders like sandbags.

An anxious chuckle erupts from the other side of the phone. “Sorry. It’s Tara. I probably should've led with that. Didn't mean to freak you out.”

The rigid set of his shoulders eases up the slightest bit. At least you’re with a friend. Still, why is she calling him from your phone?

“Sorry to bug you. But could you come get her? I think she’s had a little too much to drink. She keeps antagonizing the biggest guys here. Says she’ll sick her bad-ass mafia boyfriend on them or something.”

Sylus’ lips quirk. He pinches the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of a migraine creeping in whilst a sigh pushes through his nostrils. He doesn’t know whether to be proud or annoyed.

“They’re about to kick us out of the bar. Please come.”

He can taste the exasperation in Tara’s voice, the poor girl. On cue, you chime in from the background, wailing about needing your ‘Big Daddy Caw-Cawk.’

Someone in the briefing room snorts but quickly hides it when Sylus levels a glare at them.

Relieved, Sylus straightens, rolling the tension from his shoulders. “Where are you?”

It’s laughable how quickly Tara answers, ready to pass you off like a baton. “Husk. Downtown on Main Street. I can drop a pin—”

“No need,” he interjects, well-versed in your points of interest. What? He’s just being the model boyfriend. Definitely not stalking you. “I’ll be there in ten.”

She laughs, the sound of it relieved. “Thank you, Mr. Skye. Seriously, you don’t understand—what the hell are you doing?! Get off the table!” 

Before the line cuts, furniture crashes and glass shatters.

Sylus clears his throat, adjusting his collar. Straightens the cuffs of his sleeves before abruptly standing, the jarring screech of his chair across the tiled floor making everyone in the room wince. 

He doesn’t bother with formalities, shoving his hands in his pockets, that customary bored look descending onto his face. The twins materialize at his sides without a hitch as he makes his way to the door, the atmosphere charged with unanswered questions and anxious looks.

“Mister Sylus!” one of the men calls to his retreating back. But he’s silenced by his seatmate with a hand on his shoulder and a head shake. 

“No sense in getting between that man and his girl. Last guy who did…well, you can probably guess the rest.”

With this new information hovering in the air, the gentlemen around the table exchange grumbles and stiff looks, deciding to carry on as if their leader never left.

—

Sylus has impeccable timing.

He’s tugging his motorcycle helmet off when you emerge from the bar’s double doors, arm linked with Tara’s, the straps of your heels dangling off your finger. 

“Fuck you,” you spit back at the bouncer who so graciously escorted you out. He counters you with his middle finger, muttering something about you being a bitch. 

Sylus’ jaw tenses. His skin prickles with the threat of his Evol. But he tamps down his irritation when Tara spots him. And she’s damn near sprinting, dragging you alongside her. 

“Mister Skye!” Tara beams, a nervous chuckle in her throat. He acknowledges her with a nod and a rehearsed half-smile, his gaze sliding to you. 

You stand beside Tara with crossed arms, bottom lip jutting out with a pout as you pointedly look elsewhere. You’re adorable when you know you’re in trouble, the ambient string lights strung overhead highlighting the pretty contours of your face. Glancing between you and Sylus, Tara slips behind you, practically shoving you into his arms. You stumble with a slew of curses into the hard planes of his chest. 

“She’s all yours,” says Tara, a little too ecstatic for his liking.

Gently wrapping his fingers around your arm, Sylus guides you over the curb towards his bike. Nods at Tara over his broad shoulder, and she grins, frantically waving goodbye. He stifles a chuckle when her shoulders slump, relief washing over her features. You must’ve been quite the handful throughout the night.

Wordlessly, he pulls you to a stop before his motorcycle. Turns away to fetch your helmet, expectantly holding it out for you to take. You continue this huffy game of yours, instead glaring at something behind him. Before he can speak, your eyes alight with childlike glee, and you dash past him across the street in a blur of glitter and perfume. 

With his mouth slightly ajar, Sylus watches you cross the street to a brightly colored cart. The cart's awning features a telltale hotdog logo, and he sighs, shaking his head before following after you. You’re shoving a hotdog into your mouth when he reaches you, your eyes gleaming whilst an appreciative hum eases from your throat.

“Sweetie,” he tries, something akin to affection swelling in his chest. “You’re not wearing shoes.”

You ignore him in favor of savoring your meal. Clearly inebriated if the heavy flutter of your lashes is anything to go by. Try as he might to suppress it, a smile rounds his lips, and while you eat, he takes this time to appraise you. 

Errant curls cling to your comically full cheeks. Your makeup is flattering, your lashes wispy, and your lips painted a dangerous shade of rouge. One strap of your dress falls off your shoulder, and the tight cling of your attire leaves little to the imagination. Full thighs peer from beneath a devastating hemline, legs stretching for days. His study ends at your feet, bare and probably sore from wearing heels all night.

Sylus reaches out to pat your head, eyes slit with affection. Internally, he gushes when you turn innocent eyes on him, the brooding figure you once were tucked far beneath your skin. He surmises that Tara couldn't tame you because you were hangry. You always are after a night of drinking. He steps behind you to fix your straps, fingers softly gliding over your shoulders. 

He angles himself to ear level, murmuring, “Let’s get you home,” before ushering you towards his bike with a wide, reassuring palm at your back. 

You’re more agreeable this time around, nodding and toddling in front, scarfing down the remains of your hotdog. 

—  

You cut a sleek outline amid the bustling streets of Linkon, streetlights glazing over the dark lenses of your visors. 

Your arms loosely wound about his stomach, you’re a warm pressure at Sylus’ back. And you’re giggling something cute, uttering incoherencies that make his lips quirk beneath his helmet. Whatever you drank has you feeling good, your grasp on him slackening even more as you lose yourself to the music blaring in your helmet’s speakers. 

Sylus’ hand covers yours, wordlessly encouraging you to hold fast to him. Linkon’s streets might have the speed limits that the N109 Zone lacks, but he’s still driving fast enough to lose you if he isn’t attentive.

“Sylus!” you call amid the wind sweeping your bodies.

“Sweetie?”

The mischievous giggle that follows makes something cold drop into his belly. 

“I had an edible!” And you sound so proud, like a child showing their macaroni art to their parents. 

An indignant sound is pinched from Sylus’ throat. His eyes widen the slightest. He makes a note to give Tara an earful when he next sees her, squeezing your hands over his navel whilst he cuts a turn.

—       

Your laughter ricochets off the stilled halls of your apartment complex. 

He’s got you cradled in his arms, bridal style, not at all fazed by your jostling about. With a flicker of his Evol, your front door clicks open, and he dips inside, kicking the door shut once you’re nestled in your entryway's cold, dark embrace. He entertains your nonsensical talk with an occasional hum as he toes off his red bottoms, carrying you deeper into your home.

“Shh,” you suddenly hush, shifty-eyed and stiffening in his hold. 

Sylus quirks a brow, slowing to a stop.

Your lidded gaze slides to him, and with a pretty, drunken smile, you say, “My boyfriend’ll be here any minute, Mister. If you’re trying to get freaky, we better do it before he comes.”

Rolling his eyes, Sylus continues through your apartment, effortlessly hauling you to your bathroom.

The room floods with fluorescent light, and you wince against its brilliance, tucking your face into his chest with a hiss. He chuckles something low, depositing you onto your countertop. Your arms fall listlessly from around his neck at your sides, where you try vainly to prop yourself up. It seems gravity has other plans, a blissful, blurring wave of vertigo crashing into you. You reel forward with an intoxicated laugh, but Sylus is quick, steadying you with hands wrapped around your arms. 

He studies you beneath the light. Bites back a grin at your adorable swaying, soundlessly assuring you won’t go barrelling off the counter again if he steps away. He props you against the mirror before getting to work. Snatches a towel from your rack, dampening it beneath the warm spray of your sink’s faucet. 

Delicately, Sylus blots at your forehead, soaking up the sweat and grime you’ve accumulated throughout the night. He ducks down briefly to fetch some wipes from your cabinet and steps between your legs, cleaning off your makeup with rehearsed precision.

It’s not the first time he’s done this, and he finds solace in the monotony of it all. He feels honored, being this close to you. Tilting your head back with cautious fingers encasing your jaw. He strips you down to the marrow, literally and figuratively wiping off the facade you outwardly present to the world. 

You comment on how good he’s gotten at these domestic things, and his mouth twitches with a smile. For you, he would give up this menacing life he leads. Would arrange the stars in the sky if it meant waking to your smile each day, dancing and kissing in the kitchen over pancakes and overdone eggs. 

For now, he settles for this. And when he’s thoroughly swiped the remnants of your makeup from your face, he steps back to appraise his work. He prefers you like this, he thinks as he taps his temple. Bare-faced and unguarded, smiling without a care in the world. 

Taking up your hands, he tugs you to your feet. Moves like he’s working with porcelain, slipping the straps of your dress off your shoulders. He blisters your shoulders with kisses in his fingers’ wake as he slips your dress down until it pools into a serpentine pile at your feet. 

He divests you of your bra and panties, promising to behave despite how bewitchingly your skin glows and how easily it glides beneath his roving palms. He escorts you into the shower once he finishes, where its warm spray works as a soothing balm over your strained muscles. 

When you’re clean and lavender-scented, he swaths you in a towel he’d procured from the towel warmer he bought you and guides you into your bedroom, chuckling when you stop occasionally to tempt him into a kiss. 

Helping you into a comfortable set of pajamas, he eases you into your bed, the cozy linen drawing a pleased sigh from the dredges of your chest. Your eyes dance with sleep, and he’s about to leave you before your fingers weakly wrapped around his wrist stop him.

The look you give him makes his chest squeeze, and had he been anyone but Sylus, he’d be fawning and cooing over how adorable you are. 

“Stay,” you beseech, your voice husky with exhaustion. 

He hesitates for a moment. Murders you with anticipation, though he very well intends to stay. With a smile curving his lips, Sylus peels off his shirt, clad only in his trousers, as he slips beneath the comforter behind you. You settle against him, winding his arms around your middle. And you notch your hips up against him as if you’ve always fit there like a puzzle piece. 

You wiggle your bottom mischievously, but he stills you, reasoning that he’ll never take advantage of you while you’re inebriated. With a haughty pout, you give up on your efforts to seduce him.

You’re content with him holding you like this, stroking over the skin of your wrist with his thumb as you surrender your consciousness to the pretty girls of sleep, ushered to them by his even breaths at the shell of your ear.

[bisexualtwinkk]

don’t make it obvious s.r

flirty!reader x early seasons spencer reid

Summary: Morgan just can’t believe you actually flirt with spencer.

a/n: My first fic! I still can take season 1 spencer out of my mind, that’s all. And also, I love to imagine him all flustered and shy. xoxo NEW PART POSTED AND PINNED ON MY PROFILE

“I just think you do all this as an entertainment, pretty” morgan said looking across the bullpen, more specifically to the 6’1 nerdy man with the prettiest honey-like eyes.

“shut up, morgan, I’m tired of explaining the same thing to all of you” a sigh escaped my lips while I arranged all the paperwork we had left after a horrible case of human trafficking in D.C.

“what thing are we talking about? ‘cause if we are talking about the missing cookies, garcia took them” prentiss said sitting on top of the desk besides mine.

“we are talking about the not so secret crush our best dressed agent here” morgan pointed at me, making my laugh a little, “has on our I dress like a grandpa doctor”

“oh my god, dereck, that is so superficial of you to say! and is not a secret crush, I like to say nice things to my friends , you say things way out off line to garcia and no one bats an eye, but if I flirt a little with spence everyone goes crazy ”

“sorry honey, but if you think you can hide something while working around profilers, you are very wrong” prentiss taped my nose and standing from the desk.

“you guys make me sick, you know that? I’ll go to spend time with my favorite friend’ I grabbed my coffee and walked to spencer’s desk, escaping the teasing from my coworkers.

spencer was too busy writing to notice when I sat on the desk beside him. his hair was slicked back, making his face look even more sculpted, and prettier, than usual. he was wearing a simple white shirt and a black tie, a casual and comfortable look.

“hi, spence, sorry I didn’t came earlier to talk, handsome, was kinda busy with the pile of papers on my desk” he blinked rapidly when the word handsome left my mouth.

“H-hey” he coughed a little, “don’t worry, I can help you if you want, did you now that a higher percentage of women report feeling burned out compared to men at their level? I don’t mind helping you, as long as you want, of course” spence spoke quickly, making me smile.

“if you want to spend time with me you can say it, you know? I really love spending time with you, spence” I played with the end of his tie, watching his addam’s apple move and his face turning an adorable shade of pink. “and thank you, I accept your help, you are the best spence” I give him a quick peck on the cheek while walking away and seeing morgan with a smirk on his face.

“try not to make it that obvious next time” he pushed me in a playful way, laughing at my, more than spencer’s, red face.

“shut up, morgan”

I’m totally screwed by that man, I swear.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I love to get 2 on

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, Toji x fem!Reader, mmf, polyamory, cursing, smut (fighting over who gets to breed you), dumbification, finger sucking, breeding kink duh, implied size kink, daddy kink, mdni.

An: this is so self indulgent of me to write but idc nothing else is intriguing me besides this thought. this will likely end up being a small series because i have sooooo many ideas about these two nasty fucks.

Having both Toji and Satoru as boyfriends was not for the weak willed because these two men are constantly at each other’s throats when it comes to your attention.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me. ‘m the one givin this pussy what she wants.” Toji’s husky voice growls into your ear, breath fanning across your skin before he grunts.

His hips are slapping against yours — fucking you deep into the mattress while his heavy cock slides in and out of your sloppy hole. Pornographic squelches are coming straight from your pussy, making you cringe, but both of your boyfriends seem to be going feral from it.

Satoru’s pale blue eyes roll as Toji once again steals the show away from him. His palm cups your chin, and he drags your focus right back to his swollen cock. His tip is a pretty shade of pink, and it’s sweltering — leaking beads of precum over and over while he leisurely drags his hand up and down his length .

“Don’t listen to him. Look at Toru.” He coos with a grin, loving how fucked out your face gets when Toji absolutely ruins you. “He’s just a placeholder, riiight~? You’re still going to let me breed you after.”

You’re so pliant for them, nodding your head like a dumb slut. Nothing else in the world is better than when they both take turns breeding you again and again.

“This placeholders ‘bout to make her cum again.” Toji taunts, gripping your hips with bruising strength as he rolls his hips just the way you like. His tip presses kisses of precum so deep inside you. You can barely breathe much less think.

“You better not, princess. Suppose to wait for Toru, remember?” Satoru’s voice grows stern, and his eyes bore into yours in an almost eerie fashion.

“C’mon, doll. Cum for daddy. I can feel you tightening around me. I know ya want to.”

It’s all so much. Watching Satoru fuck into his wrist while Toji’s tip is practically massaging your g-spot. You give Satoru a sorrowful glance before letting out a pleasured cry. Your hands fist at the sheets, and your toes literally curl as juices gush out around the base of Toji’s cock.

“Yeeaah, not bad for a placeholder, right?” Toji’s lips quirk up into a smirk before he presses a kiss to your lips, drinking down your moans just to rub it in Satoru’s face even more.

All it takes is one look from Satoru, and Toji slides out of you with a grin. “I got ‘er warmed up for ya.” Toji laughs as he and Satoru switch positions. You lazily part your thighs for Satoru, still trying to catch your breath from the soul shattering orgasm Toji just gave you.

“Nuh uh. You wanted to be a slut on his cock. ‘m gonna treat you like one.” His hands grab your waist, and he rolls you onto your stomach forcefully.

From the outside, everyone would probably guess that brooding Toji’s the mean one in these scenarios, but they’d be dead wrong.

Satoru, after a life of being spoilt, gets so rude and aggressive when he doesn’t get what he wants. Toji purposefully pushes him to that point — partly so he can watch you get railed deeply into the mattress until tears fall from your eyes.

The heel of Satoru’s palm connects with your back, and he forces your face and shoulders down into the sheets while his other hands guides his cock to your weeping entrance.

You grip at the sheets immediately, letting out a hiss as he buries himself all the way to the hilt in one fluid thrust.

“Fuck.” Satoru groans as if he’s genuinely mad at how wet you are — frustrated that Toji could get you this messy.

Toji brushes your hair away from your face, and his large palm rubs at your cheek gently — a tender reminder to keep your eyes on him while he jerks his cock right in front of your face.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you? I was- ngh.. gonna be nice to you tonight… since hah~ I’m trying to put a baby in you.” Satoru’s hips are forcefully slamming into your backside. He’s not moving fast, but his pace is punishing. “Toji’s already got a kid. It’s my turn.”

Your juices are seeping around his cock, forming a thin white line right around the base that makes Satoru’s cock twitch in delight. His hand slaps at the fat of your ass smack! before he’s pulling on your hips, making you meet him halfway just so he can make his thrusts count.

“Takin’ him so well. Keep it up for, daddy, yeah?” Toji murmurs before pressing a loving kiss to your temple.

Your mouth opens for Toji, and he gives you an affectionate chuckle before placing his thumb against your tongue to soothe that oral fixation you have. He knows that if he fucks your face, Satoru will have even more of a hissy fit and probably fuck you out of commission for a few days.

“Focus on him, doll. Looks like he’s making ya feel real good.” You nod, sucking on Toji’s thumb in between breathless whines and moans.

Satoru’s balls are so heavy, brutally slapping against your puffy clit with each thrust. Thwak! Thwak! Thwak! He’s been saving up for you, adamant that he needs to breed you. He’s the upcoming Gojo clan head after all; it’s natural that those old hags want a baby with his blessed genes.

All it takes is feeling your spongy walls clench around him like a vice, and Satoru’s jerking you up by your arms, forcing your back in to an arch to where the imprint of his dick bulges through your belly.

Both of you are so noisy when you cum, Toji thinks. He watches in slight awe as Satoru pumps you full with his sticky seed. He can tell by the look on Satoru’s face that you’re milking him for all he’s worth too, and it’s so fucking hot.

Toji pushes you back down into the bed. Both men aren’t good with words. They’re good at doing. He arches his hips out before rope after rope of white hot cum spurt from his tip all over your face, marking his territory.

After a moment of cleaning up and giving you small tokens of affection through praises and kisses, the men are right back at each other’s throats.

“Ya know, if you’re not able to keep up, I can breed her cunt, and let ya pass off my kid as yours.” Toji taunts with a smirk.

“Yeah, as if your first kid didn’t look like he came from your ass. Fat chance. Sweets and I are gonna make a pretty blue-eyed baby with white hair.” Satoru hums as he affectionately ruffles your hair. “Isn’t that right, pretty~?”

[just-aake]

Flustered Crushes

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: The Black Widow does not get flustered. So why is it that Natasha can’t seem to stop embarrassing herself in front of you?

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2795

At the edge of the bustling hangar bay, Natasha leans against the cold, metallic wall, her arms folded tightly, a faint frown etched across her brow as her sharp gaze observes the scene unfolding before her. 

Near the base of the Quinjet’s ramp, you are engaged in animated conversation with Carol Danvers, who happened to arrive at the compound for a quick visit precisely when you returned from your mission.  

You've been with the Avengers for a few months now, a former SHIELD agent seamlessly adjusting to the team dynamics. 

Over time, you've connected with everyone—including her. 

So, Natasha’s made an extra effort to help you feel welcome. 

Clint often teases her about her behavior, insisting her attentiveness borders on something more personal, something like a…crush. 

Natasha dismisses his comments each time with a roll of her eyes. 

She’s just being nice. 

After all, it's only natural to want a solid, dependable relationship with a new teammate, especially someone she'll be working closely with.

That’s the only reason why she came to greet you when you return from your mission.

At least, that’s what she tells herself as she stands there, alone, on the sidelines…not with you. 

Natasha watches Carol say something that makes you laugh, causing her faint frown to deepen.

The flash of amusement in your eyes as Carol grins back makes Natasha roll her eyes and look away, unable to take the sight anymore as a pang of irritation tightens in her chest.

She tries to shake it off, but it doesn’t disappear.

After all, it’s not like she got here an hour before your scheduled return and waited to see you…just to end up watching as the blonde space beauty swoop in, effortlessly captivating your attention.

Deciding she’s had enough, Natasha pushes herself off the wall, preparing to leave.

However, her abrupt movement catches others around her off guard, and she ends up bumping into a passing cart loaded with tools and equipment. 

A clattering sound echoes across the hangar as wrenches and bolts spill onto the floor. 

Natasha curses softly under her breath, a mix of pain and embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she drops to gather the scattered items, apologizing hastily to the technician she collided with before quickly exiting the area.

In her haste, she doesn’t notice your gaze, the subtle smile tugging at your lips as you follow her with amused eyes, tracking her every flustered move across the hangar bay, even as she slips away without a backward glance.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“So, how’s it going with your crush?” Clint asks, a playful glint in his eyes as he watches Natasha.

Natasha shoots him a warning look that would strike fear into the most fearsome of villains.

Without a word, she grabs the coffee pot, filling his mug before pouring some for herself. She replaces the pot with a decisive click.

“There is no crush,” she states firmly, taking a sip as though punctuating her denial.

“Are you sure about that?” Clint asks skeptically before continuing, “Whenever Y/n’s around, it’s like you lose all of your charm and coolness.” 

Natasha gives him an unimpressed glare. 

“Really? Coolness? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Clint smirks, raising his mug in mock salute.

“Ask me again after I finish this coffee.”

She rolls her eyes, holding her mug close, feeling the warm comfort seep into her hands.

Just as she brings it to her lips, the doors swing open, and Tony strolls into the kitchen, spotting them with their drinks. 

“Oh, coffee! Pour me a cup, Romanoff.”

“Pour your own,” Natasha mutters, savoring her next sip. 

Tony feigns hurt, pressing a hand to his chest in mock shock. 

“FRIDAY, remind me, who owns this building?” 

“You do, sir,” the AI replies smoothly. 

Tony gestures upward triumphantly at her before pointing towards the kitchen. 

“So, technically, that machine is mine, the beans are mine, and...oh, right, that pot of coffee is also mine.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes but eventually reaches for the pot, lifting it begrudgingly.

Tony holds out his mug with a victorious grin. 

But just as she hovers the pot above his cup, she stops short.

“A ‘please’ once in a while wouldn’t hurt.”

Tony’s eyes widen, and he gasps in exaggerated disbelief as Natasha raises a brow in expectation.

Huffing, he mutters, “Can I have some coffee, please?”

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Natasha quips with a smirk, preparing to pour him his coffee.

At that moment, the elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal you, fresh from your morning workout, dressed in your training gear.

You walk by the kitchen, spotting the other Avengers gathered around. 

A delighted smile spreads across your face. 

“Ooh, coffee! Can I have some, too?” 

Natasha’s response is instant. 

“Sure, I’ll make you a new pot.” 

Her tone is warmer than usual, surprising even herself.

You beam at her, and Natasha feels herself pause, momentarily captivated by the sight. Distracted, she almost misses your following words. 

“Thanks, Natasha! Let me change, and I’ll be right back.”

You slip through the doors, leaving Natasha blinking, still trying to regain her composure. 

Tony watches with raised eyebrows. 

“Wait a second—she didn’t even say ‘please,’ and you’re making her a whole new pot?”

Natasha’s eyes narrow as she holds the pot just out of reach of Tony’s mug. 

“Do you want coffee or not?” 

Tony grumbles before muttering a grudging “Yes, please.” 

Satisfied, Natasha pours the coffee, keeping her focus steady. 

“Natasha?” your voice catches her off guard, and she glances up to see you poking your head back into the room. 

“Yes?” she replies a little too quickly, immediately focusing on you. 

Both Clint and Tony fall silent, watching the two of you with curious eyes. 

“Steve’s got a mission tomorrow,” you explain. “Would you mind if I train with you in the meantime?”

Natasha’s mind races for a moment before she steadies herself to answer.

“Uh—yeah, sure. Anytime you want.” 

“Great!” you say enthusiastically before glancing worriedly at the counter. “I think that’s enough coffee.” 

Natasha follows your gaze, eyes widening as she realizes Tony’s cup is overflowing, dark liquid pooling across the counter. She yanks the pot away with a muttered curse. 

“Oh sh—!”

Tony steps back just in time, glaring down at his soaked countertop.

“Really, Romanoff? This is a new suit!” 

Rolling her eyes, Natasha grabs paper towels, unruffled by his dramatics. 

“Calm down, it barely even touched you.”

You let out a small laugh. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, shooting her a smile as you exit.

“Okay,” Natasha murmurs, her attention lingering on the door.

Clint chuckles as he takes another sip, eyeing her knowingly. 

“You’re right, Nat. It’s not a crush,” he says, leaning back with a smirk. “It’s way worse.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha flashes one of her most charming smiles, leaning just slightly forward as the receptionist fumbles through her files, cheeks tinged with a rosy hue under Natasha’s intense gaze. 

“Here you go!” the receptionist says, her voice soft as she hands over a key card. “I’m sorry again for the mix-up.”

Natasha’s fingers rest lightly over the receptionist’s hand as she accepts the card, her eyes warm and a playful smile tugging at her lips. 

“No problem at all,” she replies, her tone smooth. “I don’t mind the delay with such lovely company.” 

The receptionist blushes deeply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and giving Natasha a flustered smile. 

Natasha’s confident smirk grows as she watches her charms take effect. 

Quick and efficient, she slips the USB drive from the computer, seamlessly hiding it under her palm as it rests over the key card. For a moment, she feels pleased with herself, effortlessly pulling off her usual charisma.

See, she thinks to herself, Clint has no idea what he’s talking about—she’s got plenty of charm.

“Nice job, Natasha,” your voice suddenly crackles in her earpiece, startling her. 

Her hand slips in surprise, almost knocking over the items on the counter. She turns it into a casual adjustment, but not before the receptionist gives her a curious look. 

Natasha quickly smiles, grabbing the key card and offering a polite nod before walking away toward a secluded corner of the lobby.

Pressing a finger to her comms, she mutters, “Y/n? Where’s Clint?” 

“He had to step out for a minute,” you answer. “He asked me to take over. Is that okay?” 

“No–I mean—yes, of course,” Natasha says, the words tumbling out a bit too quickly. 

She straightens, running a hand through her hair as she tries to regain her composure. It’s not like she hadn’t expected you to assist with missions, but the thought of you watching her…

She tamps down the sudden flutter in her chest and forces herself to stay focused.

“Your next target is on the same floor as the key card you just picked up,” you continue, your voice warm and steady in her ear. 

“Got it.” 

“I’ll explain what you’re looking for.”

Natasha nods and begins striding toward the elevators, hoping her sudden focus will drown out the distraction of your voice in her head. 

She tells herself it’s just a mission—professional, routine.

But now, with you guiding her through the next steps, each word falling from your lips makes it harder for her to maintain her usually calm, steady demeanor. 

Her heart beats a little faster, and her cheeks feel a bit warmer than they should. She brushes off the thoughts and keeps walking, determined to stay cool and collected.

“Um…Natasha?”

She stops mid-step. “Hmm?”

“You’re…going the wrong way.”

Natasha freezes, blinking in surprise. She glances around, realizing she’s heading in the opposite direction from the elevators.

A wave of embarrassment sweeps over her as she lets out a quiet curse under her breath.

“Right,” Natasha says, turning with as much dignity as she can muster, her face heating as she finally heads in the correct direction.

Oh, she thinks to herself, she’s definitely going to kill Clint.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha steps out of her room, her leather jacket slung over one arm as she adjusts the zipper. 

Your voice calls her name from down the hall, catching her off guard and making her slam the door shut in a startled motion. She spins to face you, only to be tugged back by an unexpected resistance.

Natasha looks down with a sigh, spotting her jacket sleeve caught in the door. Tugging at it proves ineffective, as it stays firmly wedged in place.

Hearing your footsteps approaching, Natasha hastily shoves the jacket behind her back, trying to appear composed. She leans casually against the door, hoping the awkward moment has gone unnoticed.

“Hey,” you greet with a warm smile as you reach her.

“Hey, Y/n,” Natasha replies, attempting a relaxed tone.

You eye her with a hint of curiosity. “Are you…okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Natasha says quickly, forcing a casual smile. “Just, um, examining the door. Thought it could use a closer look.”

Your brows raise in amused surprise at her peculiar explanation, but you let it go. 

“Well, once you’re done with that,” you say, playing along, “I made a reservation at that new place downtown. I was wondering if you’d like to join me?”

“Just the two of us?” The words slip out before Natasha can stop herself. 

A flicker of excitement and amusement crosses your face as you nod. 

“Yeah, just us,” you say softly.

Natasha’s heart gives a small flutter, but she maintains her composure. 

“I’d love to,” she says, a smile slipping through despite her best efforts to stay calm.

“Great, it’s a date,” you say, grinning. “I’ll meet you in the garage.” With a playful smirk, you add, “After you finish your ‘inspection,’ of course.”

As you walk toward the elevator, Natasha watches you with a lingering smile.

Once you’re out of sight, she finally frees her jacket and heads to the garage a few minutes later, finding you waiting by her motorcycle.

You hop on behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist in a snug embrace. 

The warmth of your presence makes her feel a fluttering sensation in her chest she can’t shake. Distracted, Natasha blindly reaches for her helmet and slips it on—only to be met with complete darkness.

With a soft sigh, Natasha’s head drops to her chest, realizing she put it on backward. 

The chuckle that escapes your lips behind her is quickly muffled as you clear your throat, your hands reaching to help her. 

You gently remove the helmet, your fingers brushing her cheek as you pull it off.

When Natasha glances back, she catches the playful look in your eyes as you bite back a grin.

Seeing this, Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Can we just pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen and start over? I swear, this doesn’t usually happen to me.”

You laugh, unable to hold back anymore. 

“Oh, I know all about the smooth and charming Black Widow,” you say, your gaze warm and teasing. “But I think this side of you is pretty cute too.”

A faint blush spreads across her cheeks at your words, and Natasha takes the helmet, this time slipping it on correctly, with a soft smile she can’t quite hide anymore.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

It’s another one of Tony’s famous parties, where glittering lights reflect off polished floors and music pulses softly through the spacious hall. 

In the middle of the dance floor, beneath the warm glow, Natasha sways with you, her hands resting gently on your waist as you move together to the rhythm of the soft melody. 

You wrap your arms around her neck, leaning in and drawing her closer until your lips meet hers in a tender, lingering kiss. 

Natasha smiles softly against your lips, and as you pull back, she rests her forehead gently against yours, eyes half-closed in a moment of quiet contentment. 

Even as the music fades into the background, her hands remain firm on your waist, as if she has no intention of letting go.

“Why don’t we get something to drink?” you suggest, glancing over at the bar lined with sparkling glasses.

Natasha only pulls you closer, her fingers brushing lightly along the small of your back as she murmurs, “Or…we could stay right here and have another dance.” 

Her voice is a soft suggestion, and she leans in slightly, her green eyes filled with warmth and alluring charm.

You raise an eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across your lips. 

“It’s cute how you’re trying to be smooth.”

Natasha’s expression shifts, feigning innocence. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says, though the faintest blush colors her cheeks.

With a playful glint in your eye, you tilt your head at her in challenge. 

“How long has your bracelet been stuck to my dress?” you ask, giving her a teasing look.

Natasha glances away, the blush deepening as she realizes she’s been caught. She’s spent the past few moments subtly trying to free her wrist from your dress, but to no avail.

“In my defense,” she murmurs, attempting to deflect, “you distracted me with how beautiful you look tonight.”

You chuckle softly at her excuse, reaching up to pull her even closer. With a playful grin, you press a gentle kiss to her lips before leaning in to whisper against her ear.

“Think of the bright side—if you can’t get it loose, I’m sure you could just rip this dress off me.”

Natasha’s breath catches, and for a split second, she’s utterly still, her mind stalling at the suggestion. 

You pull back just enough to watch her expression, and a delighted smile grows on your face as she stares at you, wide-eyed and flustered, clearly caught off guard.

It only takes her a moment to catch on, her eyes narrowing in realization as she shakes her head with a playful huff. 

“You’re trying to embarrass me on purpose,” she accuses, a hint of a smile breaking through.

Unashamed, you bite back a laugh and nod. 

“It’s nice to see the calm and collected Black Widow all flustered for once.”

Natasha’s lips curl into a smirk as she pulls you flush against her, her free hand sliding up your back, fingers grazing along your spine. She leans in, her lips just a breath away from yours, the warmth of her gaze intense.

“Only for you,” she murmurs, her voice a hushed promise before closing the distance, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that makes you forget the world around you, the room fading away as you melt into each other’s embrace.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: just a short fluff with a soft Natasha that I had finished some time ago. after everything that has happened yesterday and today, I wanted to give some kind of happier distraction, even if it may be only a temporary escape from everything. I’m still going between disbelief, sadness, and anger myself about the situation while also trying to be prepared to continue on. But hopefully, this was able to bring some of you some sort of break from everything else.

[chiscaralight]

college athlete!gojo who’s full of life. he lights up every room and has every head turning when he walks by. everyone absolutely loves him!!!…except you.

it’s so frustrating seeing that head of white hair waltz into whatever area you’re in, hearing how the whispers pick up and his name happens to flow into distance conversations with ease. it's not that you’re jealous, you’re fairly popular and you have a good reputation on your head. but when it comes to him? it ignites something in you that you just can’t explain.

college athlete!gojo who you hate even more after you touch yourself to the thought of him, bunching up your shirt between your lips to muffle the cries of his name leaking from your lips as you fuck yourself onto your fingers, desperately wishing they were his even with the burning hatred in your heart that you have for him.

college athlete!gojo who knows you don’t like him. you might think he pays you no mind like the rest of his on-campus fan club, but he sees everything. he sees the way you roll your eyes when he starts to speak and your eyebrows furrow when he smiles at something someone said. he just doesn’t understand it, did he do something? not that he’d want it to stop anyways, every reaction you give him makes his dick a little bit harder for you. college athlete!geto tells him to get a life, you can’t get everyone to like you. and while he is right, there can’t be no reason right?

college athlete!gojo who winds up staring at you during some frat party he was invited to. most of his teammates were playing beer pong somewhere off to the side, but instead, he's watching you down shots, dancing, and having a great time. the alcohol he’s had a bit ago is still clouding his judgment, and it makes him follow you off to the vacant balcony when he sees you walk over there, presumably to get some fresh air.

college athlete!gojo who stops you before you leave once you catch. he’s agitated now, voice so sexily clear even with whatever concoction the frat members had mixed up. even with your drunken state, you’re still pushing him away! what did he do? you guys have barely ever held a conversation, much less interacted enough for you to hate him as much as he's picked up on, why do you keep treating him like this?

and maybe it's a less than stellar idea to admit to someone you barely know, much less don't like that you've touched yourself to them on numerous occasions. maybe it's even worse to tell him how your cunt hurts whenever he walked into a room, wishing he'd ease the pain with his tongue. you could always blame the alcohol, yes? but you'd rather take full responsibility for this, the same way you'll take full responsibility for the way you're riding his face now, moaning and gushing all over the wet muscle as he hums into your heat.

college athlete!gojo who for the first time thanked the stars that he didn't live far from the collection of frat houses lining the streets. it's usually such a pain because of how loud they are always hosting one event or the other, consistently disturbing the peace he claims he needs. but if he had to drive any further, he might have just had to take you out in the open, regardless of who would've seen. not like he would've minded anyway. but instead, you're pressed up against the hallway to his room, writhing as his lips clamp down on your clit and his fingers bully their way into your cunt. your swollen lips are parted, moaning loudly as he pulls them in and out, trying to squirm out of his grip. he’s an athlete, remember? you’re practically no match for him as he draws you closer.

college athlete!gojo who finally gets you into the bed, crawling over you within an instant. his brows furrow when you try to stifle a laugh, pointing out that he has your lip gloss all over his lips, they’re practically shining as much as yours were when you put it on! forever one to tease, he gently asks if you want to put some more somewhere else.

college athlete!gojo who’s pretty cock ends up slapping the sides of your face despite the loud whine. he tells you to hush, think of it for compensation for all the emotional pain you put him through. you roll your eyes and he definitely doesn’t like it, because he’s shoving his length into your mouth immediately after. you'd half expect him to be somewhat mean to you, taking the opportunity to get back for all the mean things you've done and said that you didn't realize he'd known about. that's far from the case however, because he's cooing down at you, telling you how beautiful you look and how good you're making him feel, and your cunt is starting to feel empty again.

college athlete!gojo who dicks you down like he’s in love with you. his nimble fingers are all over your body, hands gripping your wrist while his cock reaches depths no other person has gotten to for you. your mind is blank, save for the image of the man above you. he’s so fucking pretty, eyes narrowed down at you with a small smirk painted over his lips. so much for this ‘hate’ you have, right?

college athlete!gojo who keeps his body pressed against yours as you cum hard, nails digging into the skin of his back as he helps you ride it out. he’s just so warm, it’s making everything feel ten times better!

college athlete!gojo who doesn’t wake you up after either. you’re out cold, and he’ll feel so bad if he bothers you. he really shouldn’t, but you’re the one that hates him, not the other way around. it’s why he just slides in behind you, firm arm holding your waist as your heartbeat guides him off to sleep.

college athlete!gojo who opens his eyes to an empty bed the next day. he’s honestly a little disappointed, but he kinda expected it. he’s groaning because he’s a little hungover and he has practice today, but his mood flips almost instantly when he sees the sticky note on his phone with numbers carefully written neatly across it.

college athlete!gojo who nudges you from behind as you're talking to your friends the next week. he whispers in your ear, telling you to hit the field at five o’clock, and flashes you a beautiful smile before stalking off. you're smiling quite a bit yourself until one of your friends snaps you out of it. what the fuck? didn't you hate this guy less than three hours ago? now you're sharing secrets, grinning at each other like idiots? you scratch your head as you see his tall, slender frame walk away. you kinda have some explaining to do now, don't you?

geto ver!

pt 2 of this!

[softspiderling]

like, ever | j.v

summary:

“Hey, I’m worried about you.”

You glanced up from your laptop screen to see Rhaena standing in your doorway, her arms crossed.

“Why?”

She gave you a look, before her eyes roamed your room: your textbooks stacked half-hazardly on your desk, two empty ice cream tubs, another half melted one on your nightstand, an empty tissue box on the floor and you on your bed, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito.

OR; You and Jace break up because of a stupid reason, but you’re both too proud to apologize.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: kinda toxic behavior from both of them, but like the usual issues in communication that’s so common in people our age idk what to tell you

word count: 4,1k

author’s note: modern au!jace is the president of the frat Alpha Draconis (it's co-ed, Rhaenyra was president during her time at uni), Jace/Aegon/Baela and their respective siblings are all cousins, but this is NOT in the same universe as can I go (where you go). thank you to my wonder sister wife beta @eldrith as usual <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“We broke up.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

Baela gave you a look, narrowing her eyes at you as she pushed her Econ 1 assignment away. You dropped down on the couch next to her, leaning your head back.

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you huffed and Baela whacked you in the arm.

“You just came home and dropped a bomb like that, you can’t just not talk about it.”

“Not talk about what?”

You internally groaned when Helaena’s voice floated from the hallway, the front door shutting behind her. An intervention was inevitable at this point. At least Rhaena wasn’t home yet, you knew she was volunteering until six.

“She and Jace broke up,” Baela told her and Helaena paused in the doorway to the living room, a frown on her face as she undid her braid.

“You didn’t.”

“That’s what I said!”

“You know, normal friends would offer ice cream if their friend was going through a break up.”

“I’d offer you ice cream if you were sad,” Helaena pointed out. She sat down next to you, patting your shoulder. “You don’t look sad.”

“Well, I am sad,” you sniffed, but Baela fixed her brown eyes at you until you threw your hands up in frustration. “Fine! I’m mostly mad, okay? Pissed off, actually!”

Baela folded her legs under herself. “Tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know, she just rubs me the wrong way. It’s like she knows you have a girlfriend and she chooses to ignore that.”

You and Jace were laying in his bed, your head on his chest. He had been telling you about the new pledges of the term, and you weren’t exactly fond of one of them - Laura, a nursing major. You were aware of her being especially touchy with Jace, twirling her hair while she was talking to him and always searching him out at every event. Which was fair, he was the president of the frat after all and at first you had told yourself that you were just projecting but the you noticed that she was laughing at all of Jace’s jokes. She was definitely into him. He was not that funny.

“I don’t know, it’s just the way she is, I think,” he said, and you frowned at him.

“Jace, come on, she’s totally into you.”

“Well, good thing I’m into you,” Jace pointed out, turning his head to nose along your neck but you pushed him away, starting to get annoyed that he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“I mean it, Jace.”

“So do I,” he answered, irritated. “Why does this bother you so much?”

“Because I don’t like another girl’s hands being all over you?”

You sat up, leaning away from him with a frown and he only sighed, laying his head back on the pillow, shutting his eyes. He was starting to piss you off.

“She’s not into me! Everyone tries to butter me up because they want to join the frat. And even if she was, why does it matter?”

“It matters because it bothers me and you clearly don’t care!”

“Of course I care,” Jace sighed. He opened his eyes, reaching out for you, and you had to admit your resolve was starting to crumble. “You’re overreacting.”

And just like that, the wall was back up.

“Wow, thanks.”

Your voice was biting as you spoke, tugging your hand out of his grasp and standing up, grabbing your hoodie. Jace was quick to follow you, brows furrowed. Great, now both of you were mad.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” Jace snapped and you only glared at him.

“Thanks for invalidating my feelings, Jacaerys,” you said sarcastically. “If I’m making a deal out of nothing, maybe we’re both nothing.”

Jace’s face fell and he stopped in his tracks, letting out a huff. “You don’t mean that.”

Maybe you didn’t. But you weren’t about to backtrack now. You were a woman of your words.

“Yes, I do.”

You pulled the door open and rushed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind you. Distantly, you could hear Jace call after you and you secretly hoped he would chase after you, but by the time you made it downstairs to the front door, he was still nowhere to be seen.

“That’s…”

Baela and Helaena exchanged a look and you frowned at them. While you hadn’t expected for them to immediately spring into assuring you that they were on your side - you were dating their cousin after all - you also didn’t quite imagined them being so… Shocked.

“What?” you asked, suddenly growing insecure. “I had a point.”

“Well, yeah,” Baela started, “But so did he.”

“Why did you immediately jump into breaking up?” Helaena asked with a soft voice, the voice you knew she used when she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You lifted your shoulders, then dropped them again, unable to answer her question.

“Did you want to break up?”

“No!”

You tucked your chin against your chest, a pit forming in your stomach. Did you maybe overreact?

“I was just mad,” you said, frowning, picking at the hem of your shirt.

“.. And you wanted to hurt him?” Baela said, finishing your sentence. Your head shot up, a denial on your lips, but your mouth closed when her words sunk in.

“… Maybe.”

“You two really are hotheaded and stubborn,” Helaena pointed out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You only glowered, the anger from earlier dissipating and instead was replaced by misery and a little bit of guilt? Luckily, Helaena and Baela left you to your wallowing after they realized you needed some space and you fled to your bedroom, trying to bury yourself in your assignments.

There was only one slight problem. You couldn’t find school bag anywhere.

“Where did I leave it?” you muttered to yourself, checking under your desk for your bag, even opening the drawer for good measure. You were crawling on the floor looking under your bed when it finally dawned on you.

“Fuck.”

You had gone over to the frat’s house right after class, with your school bag. And after the fight, you must have forgotten to grab it.

“Ugh,” you groaned, dropping your forehead on the floor You’d rather crawl under your bed and sleep with the dust bunnies that have been collecting under there than go back to the frat house right now. But you had no choice. The assignment was was due the day after tomorrow and Professor Cole already was in a bad mood because his date went badly.

“Fuck me,” you muttered to yourself, turning to lay on your bad and cursed the Gods for making you miserable as you stared at the ceiling, collecting your wits.

“Oh.”

Luke Velaryon, Jace’s younger AND biological brother, stood in the doorway, apprehensive. He had always been the more sensitive one between the two brothers, but he was also unwaveringly loyal. You had no doubt that Jace had already told him everything about your fight.

“Hey Luke,” you said, giving him a wry smile.

“Hey,” he replied hesitantly. “Jace is not here.”

“I know.”

Luke pressed his lips together, his eyes darting around as if he was expecting his older brother to come out of the bushes any second. “Are you okay?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. What a sweet boy.

“Yeah, alright enough I guess,” you replied, sighing. “Listen, I forgot my bag in Jace’s room and I really need it to do an assignment, could you let me in?”

“I don’t know….” Luke answered slowly. “Jace should be back soon though. Maybe you can just wait until he gets back? And then you guys could talk?”

Bless him.

You bit on your lip, running your hand through your hair, exasperated. “Listen Luke, I really appreciate you trying to look out for Jace, but I really can’t see him right now.”

Luke exhaled, shifting on his feet like he was undecided. The longer it took for him to decide, the higher chances were you’d run into Jace on your way out.

“Please, Luke, I just need to grab my bag really quickly. He won’t even notice I was there.”

With a loud sigh, Luke finally nodded, opening the door wider and taking a step back.

“He’s gonna be back soon, you need to hurry up.”

“Thanks Luke!”

You hushed past him into the house, walking the familiar way up the stairs to Jace’s bedroom, shutting the door behind you. With a small sigh, you looked around, trying to discern your stuff from his. It was harder than you had first anticipated, your belongings strewn all over the room. Picking your favorite scrunchie off of his nightstand next to a picture of the two of you during New Year’s Eve, you put your hair up as you narrowed your eyes, feeling relief settle in your chest when you saw your backpack lean against the desk.

“Thank God”, you muttered, grabbing it quickly. Just as you headed to the door, hand on the door knob, you could hear voices down the hallway through the closed door. You cursed, recognizing it as Jace and Cregan.

Fuck.

Immediately, you let go of the door knob, taking a few steps back, trying to come up with a way you wouldn’t be caught standing in the middle of Jace’s bedroom. Did you have enough time to make the climb out of the window and scale down the roof?

“- it’ll blow over. I’ll give her some time to calm down and-”

Before you could make a decision, the door swung open, and Jace entered. He was looking back at Cregan, who raised his brows when he saw you in the middle of the room.

“Wha-?” Jace turned his head, his mouth dropping open. “… Hey.”

“Hey.”

Cregan glanced between the two of you, narrowing his eyes. Meanwhile, Jace was rubbing the back of his neck.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah,” you answered - LAME! - lifting your backpack.

Jace nodded slowly. “Was there anything you wanted to say?”

You frowned at him, confused.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Jace said, shrugging with his shoulders. “I thought you were here to apologize.”

Cregan groaned, leaning his forehead against the door frame as you felt all the anger from before welling up again.

“Me apologize?” You repeated, your voice shrill. “What about you? I bet Laura’s thrilled to hear we broke up.”

“You just ended things for no reason! Laura’s not even into me!” Jace snapped and Cregan pushed himself off of the door frame.

“Maybe we all should just calm down.”

“Shut up, Cregan!” You and Jace yelled at the same time, your anger very briefly directed at Jace’s best friend.

Cregan flinched, raising his hands defensively. “Jesus, sorry. I’ll never try to help again,” he muttered. “Let me give you two a minute.”

He stepped out of the room but you held your hands up, stopping him with a scoff.

“No, I’m done here,” you huffed, shaking your head in disbelief. With one last angry look at Jace, you pushed between them, running out of the house, smoke coming out of your ears.

You spent the rest of the week distracting yourself. Burying yourself in assignments and reading, eating ice cream - there was a deal at Whole Foods, five for three, your freezer was full - and you only cried once.

“Hey, I’m worried about you.”

You glanced up from your laptop screen to see Rhaena standing in your doorway, her arms crossed.

“Why?”

She gave you a look, before her eyes roamed your room: your textbooks stacked half-hazardly on your desk, two empty ice cream tubs, another half melted one on your nightstand, an empty tissue box on the floor and you on your bed, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito. You sighed, letting the blankets fall from your shoulders.

“I’m fine, Rhae.”

“Hey, did you convince her to come?” Baela skidded to a halt next to Rhaena, looking from her sister to you. Rhaena only sighed while you narrowed your eyes at Baela’s get up. She was wearing black leather pants and a brown corset; she looked like she was going out.

“Come where?”

“Alpha Draconis’ summer term opening party.”

Right that. The party you had helped Jace plan. Before you broke up.

“I don’t know guys,” you sighed, leaning back against your headboard. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go.”

“You don’t have to go,” Rhaena assured you but Baela shushed her, shaking her head.

“No, you absolutely have to go,” she insisted. “We’ve let you wallow in your misery long enough. It’s time to put your big girl pants on and face Jace. You broke up with him for a shitty reason and yes, he was being a jerk, but you were being a bitch. Now suck it up and get your man back.”

You gaped at her, and Rhaena whacked Baela in the arm, but she only shrugged, ever the unapologetic brutally honest one.

“What? You know I’m right,” Baela only said, frowning at her twin before she turned to you. “So?”

With a groan, you closed your eyes. You knew Baela was right, in a way, and it was no use sitting around when your friends were going out. You had to see him eventually.

“Fine,” you gave in, pushing the blanket back as Baela cheered, immediately disappearing. Rhaena only shook her head, stepping into your bedroom, helping you clean up a little.

“I’m driving,” she told you. “Just tell me if you want to leave, okay?”

You nodded, giving Rhaena a grin when something soft just hit you in the face with no warning, courtesy of Baela having returned to your bedroom.

“Put that on.”

The projectile fell to floor, and as you picked it up, you recognized it as a dark red dress, tags still on.

“Hel’s headed to the party from work, so we’ll meet her there in an hour, go take a shower and I’ll do your hair,” Baela said, reaching for your hand to pull you up. “Come on, up up up!”

Begrudgingly, you let Baela usher you into the shower, shutting the door behind you very decidedly. You stared at yourself in the mirror, eyes rimmed red and hair a mess and you allowed yourself a minute of respite before you turned the shower on. If you had to go to that stupid party, you’d make sure to look the absolute best.

“Am I crazy or is it even more crowded than last term?”

You winced as you followed Baela and Rhaena through an especially crowded spot in the house, glancing around.

“No, it’s definitely more people,” Baela agreed, squeezing your hand to make sure not to lose you in the mass. “Has Helaena said where she is?”

“She said she was in backyards,” Rhaena replied and Baela steered you in the direction of the backyard. Meanwhile you tried not to let your eyes roam too much; you didn’t want to seem like you were looking for Jace, even though that was exactly what you were doing. Just as you reached the patio doors, Helaena appeared, stopping you in the doorway.

“Hey guys,” she said, breathless, her eyes flitting over to you as you greeted her. “Should we go get drinks?”

“I’m not dragging my ass back through that crowd,” you moaned, shaking your head. “Let’s just sit down by the pool for a second before we go back in.”

You nudged Helaena out of the way gently, but the blonde grabbed your arm, trying to pull you back.

“But I’m really thirsty.”

“Hel, come on,” you laughed. “You’ll survive ten more minutes without-”

The rest of your words died on your tongue when you caught sight of Jace sitting by the pool, surrounded by his frat brothers and of course, Laura. Now you knew why Helaena was so adamant to get you away from the backyard. It was too loud to hear what Jace was saying, but he must be telling an extremely funny story with the way Laura was laughing, touching his shoulder. They weren’t doing anything scandalous, but it still hurt you to see him still talking to her after you voiced your concerns. You tried not to let it get to you. It wasn’t your business anymore anyways, but you were still a little sick to the stomach.

With a scoff, you turned away, embarrassment burning your cheeks as your friends looked at you with pitiful eyes.

“Sorry,” Rhaena said and you only shrugged with your shoulders.

“Whatever,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “I told you, she was into him. Now he’s free to do as he pleases.”

Baela winced. “We can leave, if you want.”

“No, I’m not leaving because of that clown.”

The girls let out a laugh and Helaena wrapped her arm around you. You gave her a wry smile, leaning into her.

“Let’s go get you that drink.”

As Helaena dragged you away, you couldn’t help but glance back to Jace and for a split second, your eyes met. You quickly turned away, feeling a lump form in your throat. You couldn’t wait to get drinks. After getting to the kitchen, the four of you did two rounds of shots, knowing where the boys kept their expensive booze; Rhaena then mixed you some drinks before you settled on the couch in the living room. Taking a careful sip of your cup, you immediately pulled a face, looking at Rhaena.

“What the hell is in this?”

“I think Grey Goose and Coke.”

“You think?” you asked, wincing when you took another sip. “This is awful Rhae.”

“What is awful?”

Aegon, Helaena’s brother, one cousin of many in the Targaryen family, suddenly plopped down on the couch next to you.

“Oh great, Aegon is here,” Baela deadpanned and Aegon only mocked Baela as he reached for your drink.

“Sure, just go ahead and take my drink.”

Aegon took a big gulp of your drink, humming. “It’s not bad,” he said, offering the cup back to you but you politely declined. You didn’t know where Aegon’s mouth had been in the last 24 hours, there was no way you’d drink out of the same cup he had.

“So, what’s this I hear about you and our cousin breaking up?” Aegon asked, throwing his arm around the back of the couch and you scooted forward, trying to escape his touch.

“You heard right,” you said, throwing him a dirty look and Rhaena rolled her eyes.

“You’re a dick, Aeg.”

“What?” Aegon exclaimed. “’t was just a question, no harm done, right?”

You let out a deep sigh, pushing away from the couch.

“I need some air,” you told the girls and Rhaena furrowed her brows, worried.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“We can make Aegon leave,” Baela offered and Aegon made a noise, frowning at his cousin but you shook your head,

“Nah, I’m good. Just, text me if you guys go somewhere, okay?”

“Are you sure, babe?” Helaena asked and you nodded, patting her shoulder gently.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. I promise.”

With a small wave, you disappeared into the crowd, hearing the cousins starting to argue, but it was background noise to you. Instead of heading to the front door, you inconspicuously headed upstairs, past a kissing couple, and to the bathroom on the second floor. The door was shut, but unlocked and unoccupied as you opened the door. You let it fall shut in its hinges after you, walking over to the window, like you had done so many times before, but never alone. Clicking the window open, you carefully climbed out to the roof, sliding the window closed behind you again. You traipsed over the roof, before settling down on the small nook that sat right above Benjicot’s bedroom, stretching out your legs.

Jace had shown you this place when you first started dating, and sometimes when the parties got too much, the two of you snuck out here to be alone. It was probably risky to go here; but it was the only place you felt like you could retreat without having to go home.

The noise of the party downstairs could still be heard, especially the conversations in the backyard, but to you, it seemed quieter as you closed your eyes. It had cooled down significantly since you had come to the party, but you enjoyed the bite of the cold on your bare arms. A deep breath escaped your lips, your chest heavy.

Looking back on it, you knew what you had said was wrong. It was words hurled in the heat of the moment, chosen to provoke a reaction out of Jace and if you could take them back, you would. But now it was too late, it had seemed like Laura had already sunken her talons into Jace as soon as he was available - not that she had cared much about whether he had a girlfriend or not - and he seemed to be lapping it up.

“Stupid,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the tear that escaped your eye from your cheek with the back of your hand. You froze, when you heard the bathroom window slide open; not daring to look back. His steps were careful as he walked towards you, as if not to spook you, but before he came into view, a soft jacket was draped over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, tugging the jacket tighter around your body when Jace sat down next to you.

The silence between you stretched on, before Jace cleared his throat.

“You were right.”

You let out a small scoff at his words, glancing over to him.

“You’re shitting me, right?” you asked in disbelief. “She was all over you like that and you still thought she wasn’t into you?”

Jace winced, ducking his head.

“That’s fair. Maybe I was a little oblivious. It’s just…” he paused, sighing. “I didn’t see it, because I don’t really see other girls. Ever since we met, it’s just been you. I didn’t even realize that she was flirting with me until she straight up asked me if we could go upstairs.”

Jealousy flared up in your chest at his words, and you frowned, quickly giving him a once over.

“Well, did you?” you asked, your voice tight. Jace gave you a look, his hands dropping down on his lap.

“I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”

Relief flooded your veins and you ducked your head to hide your face. Jace glanced over at you, his face vulnerable and you bit your lip.

“I’m sorry too,” you then said. “I didn’t mean what I said. It was petty and stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“Well looks like we both got to work on some things,” Jace said, tentatively reaching out to take your hand; out of reflex you immediately laced your hand with his. He quirked a smile at you, scooting closer to you and you glanced up at him, almost shyly before you leaned in, as he met you halfway, your lips touching. Jace wrapped his hand around the back of your neck as you kissed, and if you hadn’t felt warm before, you definitely did now.

“What’s happening?”

“They’re kissing!”

“No way! Move over!”

“You move over!”

A crash sounded and you pulled away from Jace, just to see Luke and his cousins spying on you from the bathroom.

“Nothing to see here, carry on!” Luke yelled, quickly sliding the window back down, but their bickering could be heard through the closed window.

Jace snorted out a laugh, leaning his forehead against yours and you only grinned lazily at him.

“Come on, let’s go face the circus before they break the window and we have to scale down the roof,” Jace said, offering you his hand as he got up. You let him help you up, as the two of you walked back to the bathroom window.

“You know I thought about scaling down the roof when you caught me in your bedroom?”

“You’re joking.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: tell me what you think <3 also will add the taglist tomorrow bc i’m so tired but wanted to post🫶🏼

[ovulationation]

Big Girl

Pairing: bfd!Joel x reader

Summary: Joel Miller gets called to pick you and his drunken daughter up from a party. With a week left before you leave for college, Joel doesn’t think you’re ready for it.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it up, folks), daddy kink, praise, kitchen, creampie, best friend’s dad, age gap (reader is 19, Joel is around 40)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Sarah had been inseparable since kindergarten. You did everything together. Every all nighter, every time you needed a new dress for a school dance, every new trend you did together. Sarah’s parents worked a lot so she spent almost all her extra time at your house.

When high school came around things started changing. Sarah’s mom left and her dad threw himself into his work. Sarah started going wild and you went right along with her. You started sneaking out, hooking up with boys, and partying every weekend. You both graduated high school (barely) and somehow made it into the same college. With only a week left until you moved into your dorm. Everyone was throwing the last parties of the summer, eager to get last memories with their high school friends.

That’s how you got where you are now, the loud blaring of the speakers as you danced in the random basement of the night. Sarah was beyond tipsy, dancing on the beer pong table while the guys all ogled her body in her short skirt and tight top. You were, unfortunately, the designated driver of the evening. Leaving you with the slightest buzz that had all but faded away.

You pulled out your phone, cursing when you saw the time.

“We gotta go, babe,” you yelled to Sarah over the thumping bass of the speakers.

Sarah look down at you with a pout as you grabbed her arm and helped her onto the dirt floor. Her white sneakers landed in a puddle of something spilled and you winced.

“Don’t wanna,” she whined, throwing her head back for dramatic effect.

You patted her back as you pushed her through the crowd in front of you.

“I know but your dad is gonna be getting home soon and we gotta get back before he realizes we’re gone.”

Sarah groaned as you push her up the stairs of the basement and into the backyard. You led her to the car as you fished around in your handbag.

“Fuck,” you groan and lean your forehead against the window.

Sarah didn’t hear you, too busy flirting with some grimy Super Senior™ to realize you had somehow lost the keys to her shiny new graduation gift.

You pull her away from the walking STD, and pull her back to the car.

“I lost the keys, I need you to keep your hand right here and Don’t. Move.” You spoke slowly, pushing her hand against the hood of the car. She nodded slowly with drooping eyelids then giggled.

“You look soooo funny when you’re serious.” She laughed and stumbled. You shoot her a half serious glare and head back into the basement to search for the keys.

After fifteen minutes of searching the dirty floor with your phone flashlight and trying to shout at people through the loud music, you come back up victoriously holding the keys in your hand. Your victory doesn’t last long when you see Sarah standing next to the car, and her dad next to her.

“Oh shit,” you groan as you walk up to them.

“Oh shit is right,” Joel glares down at you, Sarah draped against his shoulder.

“I called my dad to help,” Sarah giggled.

“I can explain-“

“In. Now.” Joel growls, pointing to his truck.

You just nod and walk over to the car. Joel drags Sarah into the back seat where she promptly passes out. You jump into the front seat and Joel gets into the driver seat, grumpily buckling up and peeling out of the driveway.

The drive back is tense. Only the sounds of Sarah snoring and the low grumble of the road. Joel occasionally glances at you then back at the road, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. You pull down your tight fitting dress. Maybe he’ll go easier on you if you don’t look like you belong on a street corner.

The car pulls into the driveway and Joel pulls Sarah out. You walk behind him as he carries her into her bedroom. Every glare he throws your way makes you duck your head more.

You can’t remember a time when you saw him this mad, but you were usually sneakier than this. You guys had never gotten caught, you always got home on time and made sure any evidence was gone before a parent could find it. Usually you would be back at your house with your sweet, but unfortunately super gullible parents who didn’t think you and Sarah could ever do anything wrong.

You helped Sarah into some pajamas and hoped to sneak out of the front door. You carefully walked through the living room, trying your hardest not to make any noise. The sound of a cupboard slamming shut behind you has you almost jumping out of your skin. You jump around, looking straight at Joel.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Miller.” You immediately start.

“Look, I understand. You’re 19, you think it’s cool to go to parties,” Joel starts, his expression hard. He leans back against the counter, gesturing to the stool across from him. You scurry over and sit, pulling the hem of your dress down. “But this shit is dangerous. Y’all getting drunk and being around all those hormonal boys or God forbid getting behind a wheel.”

“I’m not drunk,” You argue, but one look from Joel has you shrinking back in your seat.

“You’re leaving in a week and you have no idea the shit that college boys think,” he crosses his arms across his chest. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up to his elbows showing off his muscular forearms.

“I’m a big girl I can handle it.” You shoot back with a bite.

His eyebrows raise at your tone and he pushes off the counter to stand at his full height. Looking down at your smaller frame on the stool.

You can feel a wave of rebellion coarse through you as you look up at him. Sarah spent most of her time over the years at your house so you never really got to know Joel. You would see him in passing or at big life events for Sarah, but you rarely had to deal with him one on one. The fact that he could just stand there and scold you like a child when he didn’t even know you made anger bubble up inside you.

“You’re a big girl?” He steps closer to you.

You nod, suddenly feeling like prey being hunted

“Y-yes,” you stumble.

“You don’t sound too sure, Darlin,” he smirks down at you.

His eyes travel down, down to the hem of your too-tight dress that had made its way dangerously close to the top of your thighs. You cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together, hoping to shield yourself from his sight and hoping to stop the dull ache that had started to form.

“These aren’t the boys you’re used to dealing with, these are men. Can you handle a man?”

You bite your lip at his words. Maybe you were drunk. There’s no way q your best friend’s dad was standing less than a foot in front of you, undressing you with those brown eyes. There’s no way he was flirting with you after chastising you not even a minute ago. There’s no way you were enjoying it.

You nod up at him. “I can handle a man.”

He grins down at you, “prove it.”

Those two words set something ablaze in you. In a flash you’re snaking your arms around his neck and bringing his mouth to yours greedily. He returns it hungrily, wrapping his arms around your back.

You stumble off the stool and his hands are immediately on your ass. You let out a little yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You gasp into the kiss, breathing him in as he explores every inch of your tongue.

His hands grip your ass, supporting you as you jump back onto the counter, leaving him stand in in between your spread legs. The hard bulge in the front of his pants rubs again you and he lets out a low groan against your lips.

He detaches his lips from yours, dragging them down your neck. He ruts softly against your clothed core, making you whimper and close your eyes. He growls against your neck, continuing his assault. You reach down to the front of his pants, sloppily undoing his belt.

Your hand slithers into his pants, wrapping around his impressive length. Your thumb grazes over his silky tip and he hisses, pulling back. He grabs your wrist

“Not yet, baby,” he mutters, starting to slowly kiss his way down your neck.

“Need it,” You whine, trying to pull him back to you with your legs.

His hands move to your thighs, pushing them apart to stop them from pulling him in. He pulls back and looks down at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen. He pushes the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the black lacy panties that you wore for the party.

He drops to his knees, staring at the little pretty pink bow sitting on the front. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the bow between his teeth, pulling it back and then letting go. Letting it snap back to your skin. You feel yourself clench around nothing beneath the fabric and bite your swollen bottom lip.

“Look at that bow,” he groans, pushing his face forward again. His nose rubs against the bow as he presses a kiss directly to your clothed clit. “You’re like a present, wrapped up for me.”

“Mr. Miler please,” you gasp, not sure how much more you can take.

“Please what, baby,” He presses another kiss to the same spot.

“Please just do something,” Your lips parting in a needy whine. You try to move your hips forward, desperate for more, but his hold on your thighs tightens, stilling your movements. You groan in frustration.

Joel slips his fingers into the side of your panties, stretching them and pulling them aside. He lets out a groan as he sees you finally. Your swollen pink folds slick with your own arousal. He presses another kiss, this time to your bare clit. You gasp and tug in his hair, he lets out a growl.

“You taste so sweet, darlin,”

His tongue darts out to tease around your bundle of nerves, licking circles around it but never hitting it where you want. You pant above him, letting out little whimpers as he teases you.

His hand moves travels from your thigh to your stomach. His fingers splay out against your skin and pushes you back until your back hits the cold granite.

Your fingers tug hard when his lips latch around your clit, suckling against it as his tongue massages the bud.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, bringing a hand up to your mouth to muffle your noises.

His hand that isn’t pinning you down into the countertop makes its way down. You feel a finger prod at your entrance and you gasp.

His finger slips in easily to your soaked hole. You bite down on your hand, trying to keep yourself from being too loud. You lift your head up, looking down at where he’s connected to you and find him looking directly at you. Your walls clench around him at the sight.

He slips another finger in, slowly thrusting them into you. Those brown pupils are blown wide in desire as he watched you whine, trying to grind down on him. He scissors those thick fingers inside of you and you moan, squeezing them.

He groans against your clit, sending vibrations up through your body like the best vibrator money could buy. You feel that ball starting to tighten deep in your abdomen.

“C-close, Joel, so close,” you gasp, groaning when that hand stops you from grinding against his face.

“Gonna cum on my fingers?” He asks, mouth still attached to your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Yes, yes, please,” you moan.

His fingers curl inside you, hitting that sensitive, spongey spot. That quickly sends you over the edge, your walls clamp down, fluttering around his fingers. You bite your hand, a few moans still coming through.

He continues to massage that spot inside you and suck on your sensitive clit, far past the last aftershock of your orgasm. You let out whimpers about him, your hands that were pulling on his scalp now trying to push him away as he licks up the last of your arousal. You pull him up and away from your sensitive core.

He brings the back of his hand up to his mouth, wiping away the slick left behind. His eyes never leave yours for a second.

You sit back up, your hands flying back to the front of his jeans. You push them down, his thick length popping out. You bite your lip at the sight.

“Like what you see?”

You look back up at Joel, a smirk on his face. You didn’t want to play, you just felt hot need pulsing through your veins.

You look directly into his eyes as you wrap your hand around him, pumping slowly. His smirk wavers at your light touch. You sweep your thumb across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum.

His breath hitches as he watches you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking the droplet. He groans deep in his throat at the sight. You grin up at him.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he growls, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and resting it against your puffy folds. The underside of him rubs against your sensitive clit.

“Please fuck me,” you pout up at him. His face goes back to your throat, kissing and suckling the soft flesh.

“You want my cock, baby?” He groans at the base of your throat.

“Yes, please give it to me,” you whine. He slides through your slick folds, lubricating himself with your arousal. His tip hitches against your clit and you moan into his ear, clutching at his shoulders.

“Please, Joel, please,” you beg desperately.

He pulls back and grins at your flushed face, “love hearing you beg for me, sweetheart.”

He hands massage your thighs, pushing them apart. You grab the base of his dick, guiding the fat head towards where you need it most. You’re both panting, watching as he notches himself against your entrance.

He slowly starts to ease himself in, stretching you inch by delicious inch. You can’t remember the last time, if ever, you were stretched like this. He was right, you were dealing with men now. And you loved it.

You bite your lip to stifle your moan as he bottoms out inside you. He stills, panting but never taking his eyes off where you’re connected. His lips swollen in a pant as he throbs inside of you. You place slow kisses along his chest, urging him to move.

He groans as he pulls back, then snaps his hips forward. You whimper at the feeling.

“Taking me like a fucking champ, baby.” He praises and you clench around him, whining pitifully. “Taking it like such a big girl.”

You whine as he uses your earlier words against you. His hand pushes you back onto the countertop as he lazily thrusts into you. His hand wrapping around your dress bunched up at your waist. His other hand wraps around your ankle, bringing it up and over his shoulder, then the other one.

The new angle causes him to push his tip into that sensitive spot inside you. You let out a louder moan at the feeling.

“F-fuck,” you gasp, clenching around him. You feel that ball inside you start to tighten again.

“I’m not gonna last much,” you stop to moan again, as he kisses your calf. “Not gonna last much longer.”

The hand wrapped around your dress pulls you forward, making him reach deeper into you.

“Gonna cum all over my cock?” He groans down at you, using your dress as a handle to pull you back onto him over and over again as his pace picks up.

You nod and whimper.

His free hand snakes down to rub your clit in tight little circles, making you squirm under him and moan.

“Come on, baby, cum all over daddy’s cock.” He groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and you know that he’s holding back on his own impending release.

His hand comes up to cover your mouth, his other hands still rubbing furiously against your sensitive nub. Something deep inside you snaps and send you tumbling over the edge, your vision going white as you clench around him hard. His thick cock still pistoning deep inside you.

His hand does little to muffle your moans and instead he pushes his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue wraps around him and you suckle greedily on the digit.

He groans at the sight, his hips snapping harder against yours.

“Not gonna last much longer, darlin,” his voice hitches when you graze your teeth along his thumb. “Where d’you want it?”

You let his thumb slip out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ and bite your lip. “Want it inside me, daddy.” You say, giving him a fucked out look.

His hips stumble as he looks at your pouty, swollen lips and wide eyes. “Want me to fill you up?”

You nod, his thumb still resting on your bottom lip, “please.” You beg.

He leans down, capturing your lips in his as he gives a few more sloppy, fast strokes. Then groaning into your mouth as he stills deep inside you, spilling his release into you.

You gasp as you feel the warmth spread through you, reaching deeper and deeper inside you. You swallow his moans, letting him rut inside you lazily as he comes down from his high.

He raises back up, pulling out of you. You’re so sensitive that you let out a quiet whimper at the feeling. He grabs a rag warm rag and starts slowly cleaning you.

Silence hangs in the air around you. You’re suddenly aware of everything that just happened. You just fucked your best friend’s dad. Your best friend’s dad just fucked you. Your best friend’s dad just made you cum twice on their kitchen counter.

And they were the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

He doesn’t say anything, just shoves himself back into his pants and fixes his clothes. You pull your panties back into place and shove your dress back down as far as you can while still seated on the counter.

“I’m on the pill.” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Oh,” he grunts. “That’s good.”

“So we don’t need to worry about that,” you trail off.

The sound of a door squeaking open down the hall causes you to jump off of the counter. Fully pulling your dress back into place, you practically jump away from each other, standing on opposite sides of the island he just defiled you on.

Sarah stumbles into the kitchen, swaying back and forth. Running into one wall and pushing off of it just to run into another one. She stops when she sees both of you.

“I’m not drunk,” she slurs, pointing a finger at Joel. She pulls the handle of the fridge open far harder than needed, grabbing a bottle of water, and slams it closed again.

She turns around on wobbly legs, then stops and glares at him again.

“You weren’t being mean to her were you?” She points a shaky finger towards you.

He smirks and darts his eyes over to yours, his eyes raking back down your body. “No, I was very nice to her.”

You shudder under his gaze.

“Good,” Sarah stumbles over to you, grabbing you in a too-tight hug and starts to drag you down the hall to her room. Her drunken, tear-filled voice travels back to the kitchen “Cause she’s my best friend and no one is allowed to be mean to her or I’LL FUCK THEM UP.”

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Note: this is literally the first thing I have ever written, if you’ve made it this far thank you so much!! (I’m usually not this freakay I promise)