#but i think we should cut her some slack

[meowsara]

so I just finished reading The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, i am feeling a lot of emotions

[howitglistened]

* this is not it a vague at anyone i swear, i have seen lots of povs already and i get all of them.

i think what olivia rodrigo said when asked whether vampire was about taylor was like. fine. it was not as graceful as it could have been and maybe an inappropriate time to remind people of that ethos of not wanting to pigeonhole a song - granted, i think it’s a perspective taylor herself clearly understands, but yk.

but like… it felt less about taylor and more just about not wanting to set a precedent for how she goes about answering those kinds of questions. which i get! and her expressing surprise seems like a pretty clear denial, regardless

edit: i said it in the tags too but she is SO young. bafflingly young! i think people forget how young 20 is, even for a celebrity! i am 23 and i still don’t feel like i know what i’m doing!!! idk just personally i feel like this is not that deep and she should be cut some slack.

[throes-of-warm-tornadoes]

my sister got asked on a date (heyyy turn up heyyy) and i can already feel myself start to get crazy about it

[emmyrosee]

Keiji is absolutely nothing if not an attentive, knowing husband.

He’s good, he’s good at the whole marriage thing, knowing what makes you tic and what makes you purr, your anniversaries and outings and just being an absolute maniac when it comes to knowing all about you.

So imagine your complete, your total, your absolute horrific discovery to find out that today, he’s not home.

There’s no flowers, no note, no chaotic breakfast that Mei insisted on making you with Keiji- she claims today is her favorite holiday- and there’s nothing.

Not one of those things, on this birthday of yours.

To be honest, you don’t really mind, he’s one for… however many years you’ve known him, he was bound to forget it at some point (you certainly know you’ve had a few close calls), it just feels strange to have a birthday just with you and not your loving husband or eager daughter.

You stretch, yawn and slowly get out of bed, making your way to the kitchen to prepare for your day off, eager to spend some time alone and not have to worry about anything until you pick up your four year old.

Who is just as surprised as you at Keiji’s forgetting. Who takes a vendetta against Keiji for forgetting.

“You mean daddy didn’t take care of you today?” She says sadly. “That’s not nice of him…”

You giggle, “it’s okay, it’s just one day, yeah?”

“But!” She whines. “I made you a card! ‘Nd we should have a cake! And a birffday party!”

You shrug as you continue to strap her in, “well, sometimes, things don’t exactly pan out like we’d expect them to. And that’s okay! Besides,” you take out your credit card and flash it to Mei, “now we can have a girls day, yeah? Brag to daddy all about it.”

She beams up at you, and you finish buckling her into her seat.

Nails have been painted, delicious pastries for dessert have been picked, a cake to be baked and decorated has been prettied up, and now, all you can do is wait for Keiji to come home and witness all the fun he’d missed today.

Sure enough, 15:34 rolls around, and Keiji comes through the door, sleepy smile on his face and jacket shrugging off of his shoulders. “Hey, my girls.”

“Hey,” you hum, making your way over to him. You toss your arms around his neck and pucker your lips out for a kiss, which he tenderly returns. “How was work?”

“Exhausting,” he says with a small whine. “So glad to be home with the two loves of my life.” He smiles and kisses you again, only to then make eye contact with his daughter, who eyes him in a scold. He crouches down and reaches out to pinch her cheeks, only for her to dodge him slightly.

“And how’s my favorite little-“

“Hmph!”

Immediately, Keiji is cut off by the sound of your four year old’s disapproval, and he watches with a displeased furrow as she stomps her foot with crossed arms and turns away from him. His jaw is slacked, at the mercy of Mei and your attempts to not cackle out loud.

His eyes, filled with incredulous confusion flick back up to you in search for your assistance in correcting her attitude, but you say nothing. Instead, you place your hands on your hips and look down your nose at him.

He straightened his back and took a deep inhale for patience, “excuse me?”

“I said:” once again, Mei stomps her foot and crosses her arms tighter over her tiny chest, “hmph!”

“Have i upset you, Mei?” He asks, crouching lower to try and get her to open up to him. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“You should know,” she snips.

God she’s so cute, you could just bite her.

Keiji, right now however, may disagree with that sentiment.

“I don’t think I like this attitude, little miss-“

“Not my fault you didn’t wish mommy happy birffday today!” Mei pouts, and instantly, Keiji’s brows shoot up, from anger to surprise. When he turns to look at you in confirmation, your expression turns from one of amusement, to faux anger to match Mei’s. His gaze softens, and he reaches his hands out to you for your affection.

“R…Really?”

“Really really,” you confirm. “I was super surprised our four year old and Koutarou remembered before you did.”

All the color drains from his face, and for a moment your expression softens as he looks like he’s about to faint right in front of you. “Kou…Koutarou remembered?”

“Honestly all of the Jackals did- Kiyoomi even sent me a card that’s due to come.” The detail, all though a little unnecessary, again makes him deflate, and even if your intentions are cruel, he looks so cute trying to grovel for forgiveness.

“Baby… my love… I’m so, so sorry-“

“You should be,” you huff, crossing your arms dramatically. “It’s a good thing I had Mei to keep me company all day, apparently she’s the only Akaashi who loves me.”

“Yeah!” Mei’s voice echos behind Keiji. It makes him snort and drop his head against your shoulder, palms smoothing up your hips and sides in an attempt to be affectionate, though the action only has you melting into his embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” he hums from your neck, peppering soft kisses along the length. Your breath hitches and your own hands come up to rest on his own shoulders. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“Absolutely not,” you say, giggling softly when he tenses up, then looking up it you in betrayal. “I want ramen. I want ice cream and chips, and I want to watch classic Disney movies as a family, and I want to do those cute panda face masks Mei got us for our anniversary with Koutarou.”

“Okay… okay I can do that; what kind of chips?”

“All of them.”

“You got it.” With that, Keiji kisses your cheek and quickly turns on his heal to head back out to the corner store to stock up on everything you asked for.

“Mommy?” Mei asks, tugging your pant leg.

“What baby?”

“Are you mad at daddy?”

You smile and ruffle her hair, bending down to pick her up and help you set up the rest of your birthday wishes.

“Couldn’t be mad at daddy even if I wanted to be.”

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part one)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.

But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

part two

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[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Write some baby Reid stuff?!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: college!spencer reid x plus size popular girl!reader

— summary: who knew that seven minutes in heaven could lead to spencer losing his virginity to the girl he thought was completely out of his league?

— warnings: reader teaching spencer how to please her, light breast play, heavy consent reassurance (bc reader wants to make sure his first time is memorable), praise, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, praise kink, heavy use of nicknames, petting if you squint, stripping, riding, unprotected sex, creampie, lack of foreplay, vaginal sex, teasing, a sprinkle of comedy in there cause i couldn't help myself, loser boyfriend!spencer plain and simple.

— wc: 1472

⋆ a/n: HIYAAAA this is the much demanded part two of my dry humping kinktober fic, but you don't have to read it to understand this one (but it would be preferred!!). i'm also writing this because I have something planned for this year's kinktober and i'm trying to set us up for greatness here sooo!! we'll definitely be seeing this couple again ;]

masterlist || AO3

Oh God, Spencer was shaking. He was about to lose his virginity to the girl of his dreams, and he was fucking shaking.

You had to cut the man some slack, because throughout his college career, all he had been worrying about was working toward his first PHD, and his mother, who he had left back in Las Vegas.

As soon as he had entered your empty dorm room, your hands were on him. You tugged lightly on the roots of his hair, attempting to coax him into doing something, because right now, he was as still as a statue and yet trembling at the same time.

“Spencer…” You separated your lips with his and he immediately frowned. “Yeah - yes, yes? Are you okay?” Oh God, you were going to tell him you didn’t want to have sex with him anymore, that everything leading up until now was a mistake and -

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“What?” He asked nervously with furrowed brows.

“Well to start, you're shaking like you're cold and you aren't kissing me back.” He started to pick at his cuticles again. “I- I-” Stop stuttering, damnit!

“What?” You teased with a small smile, “Can you only get hard in public? Is it a kinky thing?”

“What?! No, no!” Spencer sputtered incredulously. His eyes were wide and frantic to the point where he stopped picking at his nails. That wasn't what this was at all! How could you think - oh. Oh. You were being sarcastic.

“I'm just kidding, Spence.” You took your hands off his body and he almost chased their warmth. “We don't have to do anything you don't want to; we can just watch a movie or something. My roommate isn't going to be back for who knows how long.”

“No - I… I want to. I'm just… nervous. I’m -” He gulped. “I'm a virgin.” His confession was muttered and meek but you heard him. The man looked up at you through his long eyelashes, his brown irises boring into your soul in wait for your reaction.

You bit the inside of your cheek and examined him for a moment. “How about this,” You grab him by his hand. “I’ll show you what to do and we'll rectify that tonight if things go well.”

You took a step toward him and his back but the door with a quiet thud. “And I'm sure you're a quick learner, aren't you Reid?”

“Very! I'm a very quick learner!”

“That's what I like to hear.”

You led him over to your twin sized bed and stood by it. You had no idea how the both of you were going to fit on it, but you were really just flying by the seat of your pants right now.

“Take off my dress.” You command softly. “O- okay.” His quivering hands grab at the hem of your dress and tug it up, all the while he was watching your face.

Spencer sucks in a breath at the sight of your bare chest and panty clad lower half. He was throbbing where he stood, and he almost died of embarrassment.

“Touch me, baby.” You encouraged him lightly by grabbing his lithe and shaky hands and placing them on your heavy breasts. He all but gasped at the feeling, but he quickly covered it up by clearing his throat.

He pinched your nipples gently and it caused you to moan quietly.

“Is this okay?” Spencer asked with a swallow. Your hands left his own and your fingers dug into his biceps, your lips rolled in between your teeth to hold back your sounds. “More than okay.” You breathed.

It goes on like that for a moment and the need that was pooling in your gut was nauseating, and your blood was rushing to every part of your body.

“Spencer…” You sighed. “Take your clothes off.”

His eyes widen in disbelief, his hands all but snatching them off your breasts and to the buckle on his khaki pants. His fingers are uncoordinated and nervous but he manages to get it out the loop while you work on pulling your thong down your legs.

You can tell he’s trying not to stare at your newly nude bottom half, and you approach him and drag your fingertips across the band of his underwear. “Can I take this off, pretty boy?” You ask just in case. He nods dumbly. “Yes, yes please.”

He decides to take off his shirt while you rid him of his boxers. “You’re so pretty, Spencer.” You coo and look up at him through your eyelashes. His cheeks flush a deep red, just like they did in the circle. “T - thank you! You are as well and… and you’re pretty all the time too!” You just chuckle. “Thank you, baby.”

“Get on the bed.” You command, and he scrambles to follow your words. You’d work on teaching him foreplay later, because right now you need him inside you, badly.

“I figured this was better than trying to have both of us laying down on this tiny ass bed.” You joke and straddle him.

Spencer’s hands are raised, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. You take them wordlessly, placing them on your naked flesh. He can’t help but squeeze the meat of your hips, the fat of them spilling out from between his nimble fingers.

“We’re gonna take this slow, okay? Because I don’t want to overwhelm you.” You placed a hand on his cheek and grabbed his cock. He yelped, his hips shooting up at the simulation. “Easy boy, easy.” You coax.

He attempts to steady himself, teeth biting down on his bottom lip in order to try and keep his composure when the tip of his cock brushes against your entrance.

“Ready?” You ask. He nods like a maniac. “Mhm!”

Then you sink down.

Spencer sounds like he’s getting his soul stolen with the way that he moans out loud. It’s a mix between a scream and a whimper really, and his eyes practically roll back into his head. His grip on you tightens, holding onto you like a lifeline, and you honestly think that his fingers are going to bruise, but you don’t tell him.

Your legs are shaking and your stomach is tight and you’re smiling deliriously like a mad woman. He feels so good and he’s filling you up so well. It reminds you of how people say the skinniest guys are always hung.

Spencer’s fully sheathed inside of you and he’s trembling, uncontrollable whimpers and whines spilling from between his lips.

“You’re so warm please…” He begs, his hips jumping up once more. You yourself yelp in surprise and he’s instantly apologizing. “‘M sorry, ‘m sorry, I just - just need more, please…”

“I got you sweetheart, just hang on.” You lift up until his tip catches your rim before sinking down again. He chokes on his own spit.

You manage to find a rhythm and Spencer desperately follows you, trying to offer you some pleasure as well. You know he is bye the way he’s constantly searching your face for any kind of disappointment.

“Do you not -” He huffs. “Does it not feel good?” It brings out a sad mewl. “It feels great, baby, I promise; but we can worry about me later. Tonight is about you, okay?” You force him to look at you and accept his words. “Okay.”

Your legs are getting tired but you’re determined to make him cum and by the look on his face and the scrunching of his eyebrows, he’s close.

“You close?” You huff out, sliding up and down at an overwhelming pace, even for you. “I - yes! Where should I…” Cum. Where should he cum is what he wanted to ask but he’s too embarrassed to. “Inside me.” You say with a smirk.

Spencer really wants to question it, but all thought is thrown out the window when he feels his stomach tighten and his legs lock.

“I - I’m -” But it’s too late by the time he tries to tell you, because he lets out a long whorish moan, and his back arches off the wall.

You grin down at him as he paints your inner walls white, your hands that were gripping his shoulders rubbing at the skin of his neck and down his upper arms. A shiver shoots up your spine but you welcome it nonetheless.

You soothe him back down to earth through his aftershocks and tiny whimpers. You feel him go soft inside of you but you don’t try to get off just in case he still needs you there comfort wise.

“Holy shit,” You laugh. “Are you okay?” You ask in disbelief.

“I feel wonderful.” The undertone of his murmur is giggly and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘, 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ! ❞

❝ HONESTLY, I CAN'T BELIEVE I GET TO CALL YOU MINE !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor! suguru geto x reader

✧ summary: it's your first valentine's day as a couple with suguru, but he's away for a conference in another city -- and you understand you do, but you can't help but miss him -- so what happens when he ends up surprising you?

✧ warnings: so fluffy!!, suggestive, mentions of nsfw, implications of smut, reader has graduated from her program, set after the events of the main series (including every part), these two idiots are so in love its ridiculous, lingerie mention, wearing his glasses and button down

✧ wc: 1,206

“I’m sorry I have to be away,” you smile at Suguru through the screen, knowing that you’d kiss his furrowed brow away if he was here, before finding his lips with yours. “This conference was last minute, I wish I didn’t have to go, but Yaga left me little choice but to go,” 

You shake your head, “We can celebrate when you come back, it’s not a big deal anyway. Just means you have more to make up for on White Day,” you tease, and he laughs, a smile on his lips for the first time the entire call, “don’t worry ok? I’m really not upset,” 

“I know, it’s just our first Valentines together and I know you had planned something for us. I really wanted it to be special,” his lips purse, arms crossed as he looks almost utterly hopeless (far too cute) and you can’t help but chuckle, “what?” 

“Never thought my hardass professor could be such a romantic,” you smirk, as his cheeks are tinted with a lovely red, “should I be giving you a poor grade for your tardiness?” 

He rolls his eyes, as his lips curl again in a smile that can’t seem to escape your presence, “Well, while I’ll definitely be making it up with some extra credit, I’d appreciate my favorite student to cut me a little slack,” 

“I recall you cutting me very little slack that first day,” 

“On the contrary, I think I was very kind, especially considering you were late to the very first class—“ 

“And what is this weekend?” You say in mock thought, “our first Valentine’s Day?” He huffs, and you smile in victory, “is this the first headache I’ve given you?” 

“Today? Yes,” and you gape at him, and it’s his turn to smirk, “I love you,” 

And your gaze grows soft, “I love you too, call me after the conference is done for today?” 

“You know I will,” and you both share your goodbyes and you’re left by yourself, as you lay back on your bed, a pout on your lips. Suguru had offered to let you stay at his place, but you know it would have only made you miss him more — being surrounded by his things, his scent, his clothes. You sighed as you buried your face in your pillow, glancing at the picture the two of you had taken in Kyoto at one of the local shrines, almost taunting you. 

He’d be back soon enough — right? 

Sorry I haven’t been able to call again. It’s been a lot of late nights — too many networking dinners. I’ll call you tonight. 

It has been two nights now, and it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow. You had barely gotten a minute to speak to Suguru since your call with him on Friday. You sighed, sending him a picture of you in his button up you stole, along with his spare glasses he had left at your place, can we have a networking meeting? I’ll send an invite to your calendar. 

I’ll clear my schedule. You smile. 

Another message, as soon as I get back. 

You pout, you expected as much — you shouldn’t have dated such an indemand academic. The horrors of academia. 

You laid back, forearm over your forehead as you stare back at your blank ceiling. It was fine, you really understood that he was busy, but you just — turning on your side to stare at his smiling face in the framed image on your bedside table before your eyes flutter shut — missed him. 

You stir awake to lips pressed at your neck, soft kisses that draw you from the heavy arms of sleep, as your eyes flutter open to see Suguru, at your side. 

“Sugu?” And his fingers trace your jaw, as your brow furrows in confusion, “but isn’t it—“ 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind him — an arrangement of your favorites, as you blink, brain seemingly struggling to keep up, “you okay?” 

Your fingers find his cheek, “is this a dream?” And he chuckles, as he leans down to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, before his fingers lightly pinch your cheek. And you’re sitting up only to jump into his arms, a gasp on his lips, as he chuckles, arms curling around you, raking his fingers through your hair. The bouquet lays forgotten on the side because truly the best gift was in your arms. 

“I missed you too,” he chuckles, as you bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent, as if he’d disappear any second. 

You lean back to look up at him, “What are you doing back early?” 

“Made a deal with Yaga that I’d go to all the networking events he wanted, if he let me leave last night,” he kisses your forehead, “surprised?” 

“I am, the best surprise,” you find his lips in another kiss, “I was fine with you being busy, but I just missed you so much. It reminded me of all the time we had to spend apart — and I just know I can’t spend another minute without you,” you bite your lip, “I was going to wait until the end of the night, but,” you bite your lip, “I know we discussed moving in before — and I think I’m ready to,” 

He blinks, before a smile breaks out on his lips, “Are you sure?” And you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips sliding against his, as your hands slide back to cup his cheeks. 

You part, barely a breath apart, as you press your forehead against his, “Never been more sure of anything in my life — it’s definitely owed to us now, don’t you think?” 

He snorts, his eyes shining, as he presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, “Should we start looking for a place now?” And you grin, as you climb into his lap, a tilt of your head. 

“Don’t you want your Valentine’s Day gift?” You ghost kisses along his jawline, drawing a gasp from his lips, your hands guiding his own under his shirt you had stolen, “I had worn it last night just to try it on, but now,” you undo a few buttons of his shirt, a hint of red lace peeking through the undone collar. 

His clothed cock twitches through his slacks, as his fingers pull yours away, to undo the last remaining buttons to show a red and pink lingerie set — red lace hugged the outline of body with red hearts dotting along the design, sheer blush fabric left barely anything of your breasts and cunt to the imagination — not that he needed to imagine — he had practically memorized every curve and corner of your body. 

“Well?” And his fingers pull his shirt off of your body, as he’s gotten you pinned to the bed, as you giggle, lips parted, “I also baked you some sweet treats, baby,” 

His lips curl, as he leans down to meet your lips, as his breath warms your lips and his words warm your heart, “There’s only one sweet thing I want, right now.” 

The two of you never did get around to looking for a place together — not until the next day. 

✧ a/n: this was supposed to come out earlier, but i fell asleep because i slept badly last night and ended up reading a manhwa when i got tired of trying to sleep. wrote this fic listening to laufey's valentine :) i also didn't tag everyone since this was kind of a last minute thing - sorry guys <;3

✧ taglist: @spider-fan72, @grunge-mo0n, @ameri-blog, @kentocalls, @peachyminx, @forest-fruits-jam, @hanxyy, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunflowmaryam, @regrettinglifechoices, @sugurus-fave-monkey, @atomicbxtch, @shinylightsalad

[satowooo]

" YOU'RE THE ONE I WANT IN PAPER RINGS. . ."

I like shiny things but I'll marry you with paper rings ft. gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento.

contents. fluff, fluff, fluff, not proofread.

౨ৎ GOJO SATORU

“Shush, don't look!”

Satoru had been focused on folding a piece of paper for the past 30 minutes now, ever since you two sat on a table and planned to make paper flowers for the students to celebrate the year end. You just asked him about what he's doing, only to be replied with a scolding and him turning his back on you to hide the piece of paper. You could hear his small grunts and complaints every single time he messed up and redid it all over again, noticing him folding it in a different way from a paper flower and it was even cut smaller. It was the first time you had seen him struggling over a matter as small as folding papers, when he wasn't even having a hard time on the paper flowers earlier though, and Satoru seems to not be fond of not getting everything his way on an easier path either.

Since when did making paper rings become so difficult anyway?

“Okay. You don't want me to help with whatever that is?”

“No. Just stay put.”

You bite your lip to stop a chuckle, noticing the way his shoulders slumped when you heard him accidentally tore the paper, so you obeyed and looked away. He turned around again, leaning on the table to get another paper, and got to work. His slender fingers carefully folding and twisting, his eyes solely focused on it, with his brows furrowed in determination and even a small pout for the thousand of times he messed up and probably on the verge of giving up, if not because he was making a paper ring because wanted to please you.

It took him another good 15 minutes to do it right, a little wrinkled on one side but the heart on the ring was perfect. He scooted over to your side, and you finally looked at him.

He took your hand, and slipped the paper ring on your ring finger, making you gasp as you finally see the blue material fit you perfectly. “I did my best, baby.”

“Satoru!”

“I know it's not much, and I mean, I can probably give you a more expensive one with diamonds and shiny crystals but I just thought this one would mean more and much more endearing and I tried to make it after watching a video that I saw using my memory and I just think–” He stopped, blinking as he realised how much he had rambled. Satoru sighed, gazing at your hand, lifting it up to press a kiss on your knuckle, right next to the ring. “Do you like it?”

“Of course, I do!”

“Then should we call a priest right now?"

౨ৎ GETO SUGURU

It was originally Mimiko and Nanako’s ideas. The two girls lay on their stomach right by the floor with their feet swaying in the air, their homeworks long forgotten on either side of them. There were tons of papers around them, in different colours and shapes when Suguru caught them slacking around in their bedroom.

“Papa! Make a paper ring for Mama!” Mimiko suggested, patting the space between them so Suguru could join in the fun.

“Are you done with your homeworks, sweethearts?” He chuckled, taking his spot, laying flat on the stomach with his feet also high in the air like some teenage girls.

“Of course!” Nanako, who was obviously lying for the way she blushed and can't look Suguru straight on the face, as she pressed something on the origami that she made which was shaped in a frog, and it jumped towards his side.

Suguru couldn't help but be amazed, but also wanting to tease his girls. “Really? Can I see?” He said as he reached for their notebooks.

Mimiko was quick to act, slapping her dad’s big hands away with her small ones so he would drop it, then thrashing a bunch of paper in front of him instead. “Mama would like paper rings!”

And that's exactly how he found himself making one. With the help of his daughters, they instructed him on what to do for a good 15 minutes. He'd get confused sometimes every time they talked at the same time, instructions unclear when they talk about different things. But he got the hang of it, and it was perfect, as expected from Suguru.

Now, he's sitting on the bed, with his back pressed on the headboard, as he got you straddling his lap as you two talked about your day, while the two girls had gone to sleep.

“The girls were very enthusiastic today.” He said, his thumb caressing small circles on your inner thigh as he gazed at you. “They taught me how to make origami, and something else…”

“Hmm? What is it?” You replied, eyes filled with curiosity as you waited for him to continue.

You watched as he pulled something out from the bedside cabinet, a red paper shaped in a small circle. You couldn't see much because his hands were covering it a bit, but when he took your hand and wore it on your finger, you realised what it was.

“I made it, but it took all our efforts.” He whispered, watching as you gaped at the paper ring. “They're not the best teachers though.”

“It's beautiful…”

Suguru didn't expect the next thing you did. As you clutched on his shirt and immediately crashed your lips together, your hands coming to the back of his neck and deepening the kiss. Your lips dancing in harmony to the rhythm of your heartbeats.

He pulled away, breathless as he cups your cheek. “I'd ask you to marry me right now, but we'll save that for some other time.” He chuckled, pulling you in for another kiss.

౨ৎ CHOSO KAMO

It was a sweet gesture. Your boyfriend prepared all the materials needed and even borrowed his brother Yuji’s ipad so you could watch tutorials on YouTube. Ever since he saw you scrolling on your Instagram reels about making paper stars, flowers, little animals, hearts, and all other cute things, he was determined to do the activity with you. And he wanted to make sure that you'll enjoy it as much as he would.

“Let's make this one!” You scrolled onto a video, showing him a tutorial on how to make a scrapbook, which he agreed to.

You two worked on it right away, both of you busy while you cut some papers and draw on it, while he folds some others into shapes that would look good on the scrapbook. Once in a while, he would try to steal kisses on your lips every time he finishes one.

After a few minutes, you got up to go upstairs and print some pictures that you'd add on the book, leaving Choso alone with folding a new set of papers. This time, he made a mini bouquet, which was unexpectedly quite easy. And then last, the paper ring.

When you got back, you placed the printed papers on the table as you two got to work again. But your eyes caught the mini bouquet resting beside the others, and your eyes glinted.

“Choso! That's so cute! How did you make that?” You scooted closer to him, taking the mini bouquet in your hands, the paper tiny in your hands. “Are you putting this on the book?”

Choso blushed, nuzzling his face on your neck. “It's actually for you.” He muttered, his breath fanning on your skin that made you shiver. “They're small and cute, I thought you'd like it.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek so he could look at you. “Really?”

“Mhm. And I have another one too.”

He showed you the pink paper ring, and your eyes widened in shock. He was about to put in on your ring finger when you turned around, snatching something from underneath the table.

“Cho! I made you one too!”

Was it fate? But nevertheless, it got Choso blushing and almost kicking his feet as butterflies filled his stomach. His palms covering his mouth to probably stop him from reacting exaggeratedly while you slipped the paper ring in his finger. It was even the same colour as the one he made, and he swears his heart was about to burst.

౨ৎ NANAMI KENTO

How many times did you and Nanami get married this year? Three. Three times in a row. The first time was in a shrine, doing the Japanese traditional way of weddings, a wedding held privately with only your families. Second was at the church, with both your families and friends this time, with you wearing a beautiful white wedding dress as your husband awaits in the altar, looking as dashing as ever. And this might be the third.

“Honey, marry me.” He muttered, his feet tapping on the floor impatiently, watching you type on your laptop for a school document.

“We're already married, Kento?” You asked, glancing back at him once before you're back to rapidly tapping on your keyboard. The noise filled the air, together with Nanami’s sighed.

“I know. But you seem married to your laptop for the past few hours, honey.”

Nanami is not one to complain about this type of thing, in fact, he's a very understanding man that he wouldn't mind if you're stuck doing paperworks all day, unless you wouldn't be sparing him a glance, giving him a kiss, or a hug during the said day, and that would make him open up his concerns a bit. How many hours had passed anyway? Four long hours of torture for him, that he had convinced himself enough that he was the clingy one in the relationship and not you.

“Are you asking for my undivided attention, Kento?” You laughed, finally tearing your gaze away from your laptop as you spun your swivel chair at him.

He pulled the chair from underneath so you're closer to him, his right knee between your thighs as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. “Indeed. And I don't think I can live another second of you not talking to me for another hour, not even a kiss since this morning.”

“I'm sorry,” you giggled, kissing him one more time to show that you were truly apologetic. “Were you lonely?”

“A bit.” He sighed, caressing your cheeks, then pulled away as he leaned back on his chair. “You do look adorable when you're focused, honey, which I'm always pleased to see. But I have to give you something.”

He slid his swivel chair backward a bit, grabbed something on a nearby table and went back to your spot right away. He took your hands, sliding a white paper ring right next to your wedding ring. “I don't think you noticed me making this while you were busy.”

“Kento, how..?” Your eyes smiled with you, a testament of your appreciation and affection towards the man you love. You knew Nanami Kento had always been perfect, but he's even more perfect now that he took his time to make this for you.

He laced your fingers together with his, his heart warming up to the sight of you appreciating his small efforts. Kento loves it when you're happy, and would do anything to keep it that way for as long as he can.

“A few videos.” He shrugged, pulling your chair closer to him again. “Now, will you marry me?”

[holdmytesseract]

So Close To Love

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: On Tony's Christmas party isn't a certain God able to keep his eyes from you, and yet he can't bring himself to make a move - or can he?

Warnings: alcohol, music? idiots in love, not a happy end but I'd say there's hope, feels, slight thirst?

Word Count: 2,4k

a/n: Merry Christmas, y'all! I hope this lil' present I have for you manages to put a smile on your faces! 🤗🎄

This oneshot is kinda based on that song:

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

divider by @jiyascepter

"Must I really attend this ridiculous Christmas party of that arrogant imbecile, calling himself a-" "Brother," Thor cut Loki off rebukingly. "Enough. Behave yourself, I beg of you. I know you don't wish to attend, but it will be good for you. You have to show interest or Fury might question your probation - once more," the blond Asgardian chided. "It's for your best and you know it. Now come on, get dressed."

Loki rolled his eyes, but deep down knew that his brother was - unfortunately - right. With a soft, annoyed groan he lifted himself off of the comfortable beanbag in his reading corner and closed the book shut he held in his hands. Thor smiled like a Cheshire cat - proud of having convinced his stubborn sibling.

With the snap of Loki's fingers engulfed him an emerald green haze and replaced the sweatpants and t-shirt with black slacks, shiny black dress shoes and a very formfitting shirt - also black. "There. Are you happy now, brother?"

The god of thunder's smile did not cease; one meaty hand reaching out to clap his brother rather harshly on the shoulder. "Yes, I am. Let us join the party!" Thor already marched towards the main door. "I bet Lady Y/N will be present as well," he added with a small wink and stomped out of Loki's apartment. The raven haired god rolled his eyes once again, "Oaf." but couldn't shake the nervous feeling and anticipation flame up inside him. If you were truly going to be there... His heart skipped a beat at the mere thought. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. A goddess. An angel walking the earth. And your sweet, kind and selfless personality... How you conquered his heart without even knowing...

"Brother!" "Oh, for Norns sake, I am coming!"

"Okay, what do you think?" You stepped out of your bathroom; taking a deep breath. You slowly twirled in a circle then; showing off the dress you chose to wear for Tony's Christmas party to Nat and Wanda. Red - fitting the topic.

Both your best friend's jaws dropped. You giggled. "Good or horrible?" "Neither, babes. This is... stunningly sexy, yet cute." Wanda nodded; agreeing with the Russian spy. "Absolutely." You looked down yourself. "Yeah? Really? It's not too much?" "No. Not if you try to attract the attention of a certain man - or should I say god?" You reached over and threw a pillow your friend's way; hitting her square on the stomach. "Shut up, Nat! He isn't interested in me - and we all know that." You walked back inside the bathroom to check a last time on your hair, but actually desperately tried to hide the blush on your face - because Natasha was right.

While you tried to flee, exchanged the Widow a knowing look with the Scarlet Witch; both women suppressing their giggles. They knew. Of course, they knew.

The party was already in full swing, as you stepped through the opened doors of Tony's penthouse apartment. The band in the corner - dressed in fancy golden shimmering suits played some classical Christmas songs, but also normal music. You saw waiters paving their ways through the crowd of Avengers, rich people and several hot shots of the American government, SHIELD and the military. They held glasses of champagne and fancy little snacks on trays. Some people already occupied the dance floor, others were chatting or nursing drink after drink at the festively decorated bar. It smelled like expensive alcohol, rich cologne and remnants of cold smoke. It was awful.

You were an Avenger and had every right to attend this party - and yet you felt so out of place.

"Come on, babes. Let's get a drink and have some fun," Natasha's voice ripped you out of your thoughts; feeling her tug you after her. You didn't even protest and followed your best friends; greeting Steve, Tony, Pepper and Bucky on the way.

Thor and Loki were seated on a creme white leather sofa across the room; close to the huge French door, which led to the roof garden. Both men had a drink in their hands. While the blond god chatted enthusiastically with Dr. Jane Foster and a few other... scientists, Loki found himself utterly bored; having to witness his brother's lousy attempts at flirting. He rolled his eyes subtly, and brought the glass in his hand to his lips in order to take a sip of the alcoholic liquid - and almost choked.

His eyes had travelled across the spacious apartment, and had landed directly on you. The raven haired god hadn't spotted you before, but now that he did, he felt like he could barely breathe. You wore a stunningly beautiful red dress, which highlighted your curves to perfection and suited your whole appearance. Loki couldn't help but to stare; distracted by your looks and the sweet smile upon your lips, which managed to turn his knees into jelly.

"You should ask her to dance, you know." Thor's quietened voice suddenly urged to his ears. He noticed how close his brother had slid over to him on the sofa; his gaze directed on you as well. Loki scoffed and played it cool; downing the rest of his Martini. "Why in Odin's name should I do that, brother? I can tell there already is a line with men wanting to dance with her. See all those rich sycophants eye-fucking her?" He jutted his head at a group of men in tuxedos; standing only a few bar tables away. Thor's eyes followed. "I bet they'd do everything to get her attention and lure her into their 'honey-trap'. She doesn't need another one."

"Why don't you make sure to get her before they can, brother? Are you truly willing to lose the Lady of your interest to such vile men?" The raven haired god stood up from the sofa, "You forget that I am no hero, Thor." and walked away without another word; straight to the bar. The blond god only shook his head in disbelief.

The evening progressed; alcohol flew and caused the party to get wilder. By now, almost everybody had fun on the makeshift dance floor - no matter the song. Loki, though, was still sitting alone at the bar; glad that nobody had approached him. After all, he had just attended the party because it was the 'best for him' and good for his reputation. Which reputation? The god asked himself; almost starting to chuckle. He hated it to be here and yet he hadn't left.

The reason was simple...

He found himself unable to avert his eyes from you. He tried, but failed gloriously. Loki watched you dance with one man after the other - all of them besuited billionaire playboys; each of them trying to flatter and impress you more. As if it was a competition. He could already feel the bile rising in his throat by the mere look at them. This wasn't the proper way to gain the attention of a lady. Typical mortal men... It disgusted him.

Another feeling he also couldn't shake was jealousy... Yes, he was jealous of that unworthy mortal scum touching you in such an intimate way. Dancing was an art. The expression of feelings and status. Obviously not on Midgard...

What Loki didn't see, though, with being blinded by jealousy and frustration, was that you absolutely didn't enjoy yourself. You hated these... machos just as much as Loki, and yet you were too kind to recline their ask for a dance and your attention.

"Save her." A feminine, quite familiar voice urged to his ears through the music. The god frowned and slowly turned on his bar stool to face the 'intruder'. "What are you talking about, Miss Romanoff?" The Widow's gaze drifted over to you, then back to Loki. "Don't act innocent, Laufeyson. You know exactly what I'm talking about," Nat urged him on just like his brother. She gave the god a smile alongside a wink, ordered another drink and vanished in the crowd again.

A groan of distress left the god's lips; his pointer finger dancing over his bottom lip in thought.

Again he let his eyes wander over to you. His gaze lingered and he felt his chest tightened. No, he couldn't. Swallowing hard, he averted his eyes once again and redirected his attention to the bartender. "Another, please." The friendly man behind the counter nodded and replaced his empty glass with a full one.

Once Loki had downed this drink as well, he stood up with a sigh and turned to finally leave - crashing into another body. Out of instinct, his arms reached out to steady the person he just almost ran over. "Apologies, I-" When the god lifted his gaze and found himself staring into your mesmerising Y/E/C eyes, his breath hitched. "Y-Y/N..." Loki desperately tried to keep it together; clearing his throat. "I did not mean to run into you. Again, my apologies." He didn't notice that his palms were still gently gripping your upper arms - but you did; having a hard time to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"N-No! No need to apologise. I-I mean, I should've watched where I'm going as well, so..." You smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear - a nervous habit. "It's fine, really." That was a lie. In fact, nothing was fine. Your heart was running a marathon; the sudden encounter caused your feelings to run wild.

Loki gave you a small smile as well, "Very well." and cleared his throat, as he noticed that he was still holding you; quickly letting go of you.

Your skin tingled where he had touched you, and you couldn't deny that you were already longing for his touch again.

An awkward moment of silence between the two of you passed, but before any of you could say something, the lights in the apartment got suddenly dimmed and the music changed.

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight I've never seen you shine so bright, mhm-hmm

Some might say it gave off romantic vibes. Major romantic vibes...

From the corner of your eyes you could see couples starting to sway together to the famous soft rock song.

I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance

Loki swallowed hard and licked his lips; heart threatening to break free from his ribcage. "Dance with me," the god suddenly uttered; mouth working faster than his brain could think. "Please." Your gaze lifted to meet his again - and feared you were going to drown in those beautiful blues. "Yes." It was your heart speaking.

The handsome god gave you another soft smile, before he gently reached for your hand and took a few steps backwards; pulling you gently with him and away from the bar.

And I have never seen that dress you're wearing Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes I have been blind

Loki's hand found your waist then; his other hand engulfing your smaller one. You bit your lip and placed your free hand on his black shirt clad shoulder. Together, you started to sway to the music.

The lady in red Is dancing with me, cheek to cheek

It felt so different. Different from any other man you had danced with tonight. It felt right. How gentle, yet firm Loki's touch was. How he guided you over the dance floor. The way his hand held yours. It was overwhelming.

Almost shyly you lifted your head; eyes locking with those endless blues of his. And once more you felt yourself drowning. No words were exchanged. Neither of you had to. You could read it on the god's face; saw it in his eyes.

The dozens of other people faded into a blur around you. It was just you and Loki. Nobody else existed in that very moment.

You could feel yourself closing the distance between you further; your head resting against his firm shoulder. Loki's heart skipped several beats - unbeknownst to you. And he certainly did not reject the invitation. He let the hand on your waist slowly glide to rest on the small of your back; pushing you even closer against his body. You were so close now that you could smell his intoxicating cologne with every breath you took. Leather, charred wood and something citrusy. It caused your head to spin.

You could also feel his definitely unsteady breath against the burning hot skin of your cheek - and you could swear you could still smell the remnants of alcohol. Martini?

Without even noticing had your gaze dropped to his lips; wondering how they would feel against yours. Wondering how he'd taste.

Perhaps Loki was able to read your mind. Or he could feel it to. Whatever it was, it urged him on to lower his head; nose grazing your cheek as his lips hovered over yours. You feared that your heart was going to explode; anticipation and want coursing through your veins.

Loki was about to finally close the remaining distance between the two of you, when the lighting got turned up again; the brightness almost blinding - and the moment between you and the god bursting like a bubble. The both of you could do nothing but blink; now standing an arm length away form each other again.

"I-I'm sorry," Loki muttered and before you could say something, he had vanished in the crowd of people around you. With your mouth slightly agape you stared a hole in the floor where the god had been standing just a few seconds ago; stunned. Your brain was having a hard time to process what just happened. Hence, you didn't even know what exactly happened...

Loki cursed under his breath as he stumbled into his dark, empty apartment in the Avengers tower. He was such a fool. How could he be so stupid to just leave you standing there? He could've had all he ever wanted - and now he was sitting on the floor; back pressed against the frame of his bed, black curls a mess and black shirt halfway undone, with empty hands. And why? All because the oh so brave and arrogant princely womaniser had gotten cold feet. Seducing and charming a woman wasn't a problem. Seducing and charming the woman he loved seemed to be impossible.

Loki ran his hands over his face with a groan. He was an idiotic imbecile.

Tags: @fictive-sl0th @gruftiela @theaudacitytowrite @anukulee @alexakeyloveloki @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @chennqingg @muddyorbsblr @glitchquake @mandywholock1980 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @mochie85 @dryyoursaltyoceantears @chantsdemarins @loz-3 @eleniblue @goblingirlsarah @crimson25 @icytrickster17 @lokidbadguy @hunny-beann @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kimanne723 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokidokieokie @lovingchoices14 @valencia-rou @kikster606 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @huntedmusicgardenn @linaax @sheris532 @km-ffluv @jiyascepter @salvinaa @lcolumbia1988 @blackholeofcreativity @lou12346789 @soulpiercing @loonalockley @liliac-dreamer @brokenpoetliz (Continuing in the comments)

[star2fishmeg]

Quinn Angst 97

Thank you for requesting <3

ANGST #97 "Maybe the fact that we have such a hard time staying away from each other is saying something."

📞 dialling…

He’d recognise her silhouette anywhere, but he couldn’t help but blink the tears away watching her gaze into the lake, the moonlight rippling over the water. He took a deep breath, quietly approaching to stand next to her on the riverbank, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets. He wished his stomach would stop fluttering every time he thought of her, he wished he could forget how he made her cry until she couldn’t breathe.

He rolled on his heels and pursed his lips, heart thundering but he spoke with light humour in his tone, “We gotta stop running into each other like this, the store, the rink and here…how are things?”

“We live in the same city, Q and fine, I guess.” Y/n chuckled softly, only tilting her head slightly to look at him. “You?”

“Could be better. I’m benched on injury, my team haven’t won a game in a while, I’m bored and should be playing, media are all in our ass as usual.” He shrugged, kicking some of the dirt below him, relieved that the air between them wasn’t beginning to thicken and suffocate them both just as he’d feared. If it ever did, he deserved it. 

She raised her eyebrows, lips tugging into a small smile before gazing back out into the river. Countless nights they’d spent watching the city lights, nights where no one could find them and it was just them alone. “Jesus, no wonder you came out here. I’d be gnawing at my enclosure if I were in your position.”

“Yeah, like the time just before lockdown when you made two-hundred cookies out of pure stress and then had me help you eat them.” He quipped, laughter slipping past him, genuine laughter from his chest with that pleasant lightness to it. He missed it.

“Hey, I made them to fit your diet and your brothers liked them, cut me some slack.” She laughed with him, half-unexpectedly but this was Quinn. Quinn always made her laugh, always had and always would, even if he could make her cry too. 

His gaze shifted to her, even in the dark he thought she was beautiful, admiring all the features he could never forget; her nose-bridge that bumped his; the shape of her eyelashes that tickled his cheeks; her lips he once found solace in; and her eyes that he got lost in every time. He couldn’t say a part of him hated himself for what he said, the entirety of him did, not realising what he’d lost until she was gone. He used to come home to home cooked meals, aromas of floral candles, a warm body in his orbit all the time and when he cut that out, his apartment was nothing but an empty shell that he happened to sleep in. It wasn’t much of a home without y/n anymore. 

“They were good.” He said, smiling wider when her eyes caught his. “What brings you here anyway?”

She paused, somewhere between thinking and watching the memories of them in his eyes. “Not sure, just thinking and came back. We used to sit here a lot; it was quiet, and nobody disturbed us. Why are you here?”

He chuckled, eyes flickering between her eyes and her lips with, for the first time in days, peace washed over him. His muscles relaxed, shoulders dropping and he felt those smitten butterflies in his stomach all over again. He’d accepted that no matter how old he got, she’d always make him feel giddy, whether she loved him or not, the years they spent together were his happiest and, in that moment, there was a light feeling in his bones. Stepping closer to her side, he thought about how to construct a sentence without sounding creepy because somewhere in his heart, the most delusional pit, they were still in his bed, tangled and sleeping soundly in company and she’d never walked out his door for the last time.

“Was out walking and I saw you, just wanted to see how you were.” He spoke, words sweet like honey before he paused and gazed down at her. That spark between them, two magnets pulled towards each other, and he craved to kiss her again, be consumed by her arms and with every occurrence their paths crossed he doubted that they were destined to walk separate paths. “Y’know, maybe the fact we have such a hard time staying away from each other is saying something. I can’t stop seeing you around, everywhere I go and I’m not saying you haunt me, it’s the opposite. You were everything to me, and I regret ever thinking I could be fine without you.” 

He was right. She knew he was right, the only time he had ever been wrong was when he confessed, they were better apart. Y/n felt it too, the familiar fuzzy feeling. She saw the glimmer in his eyes, the pink across his cheeks and how he’d relaxed like he used to. Quinn was aching in his aloneness, existing in his apartment that still had every decoration she’d ever brought home, that still had the same bed that always had her side vacant in the hope that one day she’d return. She knew because she was no better, the jewellery he gifted still on her vanity, his hoodies still hung on the back of chairs, photos stuck around the walls like nothing had ever changed.

She smiled fondly, winding her hand through his arm and holding his bicep, “...I still care about you too, Quintin…but I’m gonna need you to promise me that you’re ready to try again.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hold My Hand

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Jack Kline & teen!reader

Requested by @gabrielasilva1510

Synopsis: you and Jack are always there for each other

Warnings: fighting, people want to kill Jack, angst with a happy ending, probably continuity errors because season 12-14 is kind of a blur to me

“We have to find her.”

“We don’t even know where to start.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do, she can’t have gotten far.”

“Why don’t we just let her go?”

All eyes turned to you when you interrupted Team Free Will in the middle of an argument.

“That’s not an option,” Dean scoffed. “She’s carrying Lucifer 2.0, we’ve got to stop her before he’s born.”

“Just because Lucifer’s his dad, doesn’t mean he’s gonna be evil,” you argued. “He didn’t do anything, and if Kelly wants to have this baby, why should we stop her?”

“It will kill her,” Cas said.

“And yet she said she wants to have him anyway,” you countered.

“Whoa whoa, can we back up to when I said, Lucifer’s son?” Dean said. “It’s evil, we kill it, no argument.”

“It’s not like he’s done anything!” You said. “He’s innocent! He didn’t ask to have Lucifer for a dad, and he can’t be evil before he’s even born.”

“Look, does any of this matter?” Sam cut in before the argument could get more heated. “We can’t find Kelly, so there’s nothing we can do yet anyway.”

“Fine,” Dean huffed. “But when we find her, there’s no argument. We can’t take a chance with that thing.”

“He’s not a thing, Dean.” You glared at your brother, but nobody said anything more to continue the argument.

…

The argument was inconsequential—you didn’t find Kelly in time. Well, you and your brothers didn’t.

But Cas did, and he paid the price.

You didn’t reach Jack fast enough to stop Dean from shooting him, and once he knocked the three of you out and disappeared you weren’t able to stop Dean from going on a hunt to end him. Once Cas was gone, Dean was more convinced than ever that killing Jack was right, and you just didn’t seem able to get Dean to listen to you anymore.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sam observed when the two of you got a moment away from Dean.

“Why won’t he listen?” You sighed. “I-I know he’s hurt because of Cas, but we all are. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean it’s Jack’s fault, and it’s not fair to hunt him down because of it.”

“Jack?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Well, I think. I saw it painted on the wall in Kelly’s house, I think that’s what she wanted to name him. He’s not just Lucifer’s son, Sam, no matter what Dean thinks. He has a name, and he doesn’t have to be evil just because Lucifer’s his dad, or-or because Kelly died in childbirth, or because Cas died to protect him. Those are all decisions that other people made, not Jack.”

“I understand what you’re saying. I just don’t think Dean does.”

“I’ve tried to tell him,” you said. “I’ve tried a hundred times. He doesn’t want to listen.”

“I know,” Sam said. “But he’s in pain. We’ve got to cut him some slack.”

“If we cut him too much slack, then we’re just signing Jack’s death warrant.” You sighed. “I can’t do that, Sam. If I do, then Kelly and Cas died for nothing.”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but closed it quickly when he saw Dean returning to the Impala.

…

Finding Jack wasn’t as hard as Dean was afraid it would be. On the way to a lead, Sam and Dean restarted the argument about Jack.

“I’m sorry, are you defending the son of Satan?” Dean scoffed after Sam tried to calm Dean down.

“I’m not defending anything, it’s just—“

“I am,” you butted in. “The only reason Jack attacked us is because you shot him!”

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand against the steering wheel. “I shot the monster, that’s what we do!”

“Jack’s not a monster!” You blurted.

“Jack?” Dean scoffed. “It’s Lucifer’s son, not some new best friend. And he killed Kelly, and…” Dean’s voice stuttered. “And Cas…”

“Jack didn’t kill them!” You insisted. “They wanted to protect him, that doesn’t make it his fault!”

Dean opened his mouth to yell at you, his fingers whitening on the steering wheel, when Sam interrupted.

“Guys, we’re here.”

Dean gritted his teeth as he pulled into the parking lot.

“The only plan I have right now is killing that thing before he kills anyone else.”

“Is Cas…” Sam swallowed. “Is Cas really gone?”

“You know he is.”

…

Once the three of you finally tracked Jack to a police station, Sam managed to taser him before the three of you got arrested by the very suspicious cop.

You and Sam were left with Jack in a holding cell while Dean talked to the woman—no doubt, he was trying to convince her to help him kill Jack. At least, that’s what you were afraid of. Even Sam, who you considered much more on your side, was pressing himself against the farthest wall from Jack when he woke up.

Once Jack relaxed and his yellow eyes faded, you approached him even as Sam held back.

“Y/N…” Sam whispered warily, but you ignored him, opting to sit next to Jack on a hard metal bench. Jack watched you silently for a moment before offering a small smile and turning his attention back to Sam, who was trying to ask him some questions.

“Will you tell them I’m sorry?” Jack asked him. You saw the guilt in his eyes, and it twisted your gut—Jack had never meant to hurt anyone, and he must’ve been so scared when Dean shot him.

“Um…yeah,” Sam agreed.

Sam continued to question him, and you continued to remain by Jack’s side. You were sure it was making Sam nervous—his eyes kept glancing towards you, and his hands were twitching, as though he was prepared to act at any moment. But you could also tell that it was calming Jack. The changes were subtle, but you could almost feel rather than see him…not leaning in your direction, but more like relaxing towards you, like a flower growing towards sunlight.

Once Jack announced that he’d had to grow up quickly because the world was dangerous, you felt yourself understanding him more and more. Sam seemed to relax when Jack claimed that Castiel was his chosen father, not Lucifer. The more Jack spoke, the more the two of you realized that this was not some monster, some devil-spawn—he was just a kid.

And it all was going so well until Dean returned.

Jack was still stiff and silent after learning that Cas was dead, so he didn’t acknowledge Dean’s presence. You wanted to go and make sure that Dean didn’t still plan to kill Jack, but Sam beat you to Dean, and you didn’t want to leave Jack alone. Still, you listened carefully as Sam tried to convince Dean that Jack was just a kid.

The brothers were interrupted by a cry for help—Dean went to investigate, leaving the three of you stranded in the cell. He wasn’t gone thirty seconds when to angels broke down the door. Once they were inside, Jack doubled over in pain, stumbling against the wall.

“Jack!” You cried out, reaching over and steadying him. One of the angels ripped the door off its hinges, and Sam and the angel fought while you stayed by Jack’s side, keeping yourself between him and the other angel.

Sam was on the floor in a minute, overwhelmed by the angel. You were conflicted for a moment—did you help Sam, or Jack?—but the angel ignored Sam once he was on the floor, going straight to Jack. It only took one swift blow to get you out of the way, your head slamming painfully against the rough stone wall of the jail cell.

“Jack…” you whimpered, watching as the angels grabbed him and marched him towards the exit.

“Hey!” Sam yelled, and you turned to see him press his bloody palm against the angel-repelling symbol he’d finger-drawn in blood. The angels were gone in a bright flash of light, and Jack remained, kneeling in pain by the door.

“Jack.” You jumped to your feet, staggering a little as the blood rushed to your head, but you still managed to reach Jack and grab hold of his shoulder. “Jack, are you ok?”

Before he could answer, the door slammed open to reveal a third and final angel wielding an angel blade. Sam grabbed one the other angel had dropped and jumped in front of Jack. You stayed right by Jack’s side as he stood to his feet.

“Don’t.” Sam said.

“Or what, other one?” The Angel scoffed.

“Guess.” Dean grunted, entering right behind her.

You felt your hand subconsciously finding Jack’s as you took a half-step forward, trying to block his body with your own. You saw Jack glance at you out of the corner of your eye—he looked confused—but his hand squeezed yours even tighter.

“If I can’t have him, no one can,” the angel promised, twisting her blade and driving into Jack’s chest.

“No!” You cried as Sam killed her with one swift jab. The three of you watched with bated breath as Jack grabbed hold of the angel blade and slowly removed it.

“I…I’m fine,” he breathed.

Sam and Dean stared at each other, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody hole in the middle of Jack’s chest.

“I’m fine,” Jack repeated, his hand once again finding yours.

…

You sat with Jack while Sam and Dean discussed the options. It didn’t take long to decide—Jack would be going with you. Of course, you were almost certain that it was because Dean was looking for a way to kill him, but you would take what you could get for now.

You finally separated from Jack when the four of you returned to the cabin. Dean went in to prepare Cas’s body, and Jack wanted to see his mother one last time. You couldn’t bring yourself to go in—to see what you’d lost. So you waited outside until both bodies were brought out to burn.

You saw Sam speaking to Jack while Dean poured gasoline on the pyre, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. Sam and Dean spoke, but it was like you were in a play, one where two characters went off to talk but no one else on stage was supposed to hear what they were saying. Their words weren’t quiet, and they were mere inches from you, but you couldn’t make it out anyway. Then Dean tossed his lighter into the fire, and you watched as flames engulfed the two covered bodies. You wanted to look away—to close your eyes, as if that would somehow make anything better—but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. You felt like an unwilling witness to the burning blaze that took your friends away—away to somewhere better, you hoped. The smoke rose up, and you watched it as if hoping to see their souls rising with it—off to a better world, a world without so much pain.

Jack’s hand on your arm snapped you out of your daze. He looked for a moment as if he didn’t know what he was doing. But then his hand found yours, and you felt it—a reassuring squeeze. His hand was warm, and his touch was comforting. Your gaze met his for the briefest of moments, before both of you looked back at the fire.

But not before your hand squeezed his back.

…

“I don’t like that,” Dean grumbled to Sam. Sam looked at him, confused, and Dean gestured to the back seat. Jack was asleep against the window, and somewhere along the line you’d gone from sleeping on your own window to sleeping on Jack’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t be letting her get that close to it. As soon as we figure out how to kill a nephilim, he’s gone.”

“Dean, we don’t know that he’s evil,” Sam reasoned.

“Yes we do, Sam. And every time we try to cheat, try to pretend that the bad guys aren’t so bad, people end up dead. So now we’re gonna do what we should always do—end the problem.”

Both boys halted their conversation when they saw you stir—getting you involved would only make the argument worse; they knew where you stood on the issue.

“Dean, the problem might be the only way to save mom,” Sam argued.

“Mom is gone.”

…

You awoke to a blinding motel sign blinking above the Impala.

“We should be on the road,” Dean was arguing to Sam.

“Dean, you were hallucinating sheep. We need a few hours,” Sam countered.

“This is nice!” Jack said enthusiastically when he saw the dingy, near-rotting motel room. You found yourself smiling at his eagerness while Sam and Dean dropped their bags on the ground.

“Wow,” Jack breathed when he turned on the tv and a Scooby-Doo episode started playing. “This is…wonderful.”

You grinned, settling down next to him on one of the beds to watch, when Dean stepped over.

“Hey, no,” he said, moving to turn it off. He hesitated when he saw the show, almost smiling at what it was. You were just starting to hope that Dean was coming around when the smile dropped and he clicked the tv off. “You’re on the couch sport, move,” he said to Jack. “Y/N, I guess you’re sharing my bed tonight.” Dean snatched a bible off the counter and tossed it to Jack. “Here, why don’t you read a book.”

“I’m gonna stay up for a little bit,” you said, going to sit by Jack on the couch. Dean pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Sam left and returned quickly with burgers. The four of you chowed down—you watched as Jack started to mimic all of Dean’s movements, and you had to bite back a smile when Dean started to get annoyed with it.

After dinner, you dozed off. Sometime in the night, Donatello arrived, but you didn’t wake until you started to hear raised voices. You sat up on the couch and noticed Jack next to you. He was watching Sam, Dean, and Donatello argue about him—mostly Sam and Dean.

“He doesn’t have to be evil!” Sam was saying. “We don’t know that he isn’t more like Cas and Kelly than Lucifer!”

“I’m right here you know!” Jack argued, but no one listened.

“Yeah but he’s not Kelly, not Cas, he’s the freakin devil!”

You flinched in surprise when Jack disappeared from next to you. Dean turned to look at him, growling in annoyance when he saw Jack was gone.

“Nice going, Dean,” you huffed, jumping to your feet and running out to find Jack. You slammed the door in Dean’s face before he could respond.

…

“Hey Jack.” You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Jack, sitting on a crate in an alleyway outside of the motel. You had a feeling he could’ve just as easily transported himself to Hawaii, so you were more than relieved that he hadn’t gone far.

Jack tucked his head into his arms as if trying to escape you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Everyone was so angry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed.

“I guess you just wanted to be away from it all.” You hadn’t noticed Sam following you until he spoke.

“And suddenly, I was,” Jack sighed. You felt your gut twist at the guilt in his voice—he didn’t want his power, you could feel it. It must be so overwhelming for him, to just think or feel something and have it happen.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I’ll tell you what, you’ve got some special skills, Jack. We just need to make sure you get a grip on them, so you don’t hurt anybody.”

“Is that why Dean hates me?” Jack asked, and you had to remind yourself to stay calm—you loved Dean, but right now you’d never wanted to hit him more.

Jack and Sam continued to talk about Dean, and about Jack’s own powers, but again you found your mind wandering. You didn’t know what to do, but for some reason you felt that more than anything, you wanted to protect this kid. You’d never met anyone like him—he was so kind, so inquisitive, so bright and happy—and you felt like he was someone you needed in the world.

“I just don’t know if I’m worth all this.” Jack’s tearful confession brought you back to the present.

“You’re mom thought you were,” Sam told him. “So did Cas. So do I.”

“Me too,” you jumped in. “Jack, I believe you can control your powers. And I believe that you deserve a chance here. I believe that you’re worth that.”

You weren’t sure if he moved or if you did, but somehow Jack’s hand was grasped in yours once again. It just felt right—like he was a wind chime, beautiful when moved in the right direction, and you were the string holding him up—you made each other better; you made each other work.

…

Dean’s relationship with Jack didn’t change much after you guys brought him back to the bunker—even after Jack saved you all from Asmodeus. Dean tried his best to keep you away from Jack, but he was never successful. The only thing he could do was never leave you alone in the bunker with him—which he made sure to do.

That plan backfired one day when Dean took you with him for a supply run—he didn’t need you, but you’d been “spending too much time with the devil’s kid” recently, so he took you out anyway.

Which would have been fine, if a certain Knight of Hell hadn’t been on the loose.

You’d wandered away from Dean in the parking lot—he was heading inside the store, but you turned off at the last moment, something catching your eye in the alleyway just outside. You didn’t know what it was, or why you turned; instinct, maybe. Nonetheless, you hadn’t taken two steps into the alley when you heard—

“Ah, yes. You’ll do nicely.”

—and you felt something smack the back of your head with a sickening crunch, bringing darkness to your vision and numbness to your bones, before you suddenly couldn’t feel anything at all.

…

Pain. After a time, it was all you remembered. You woke to it every day, and passed out from it every night. At least, that’s how you imagined it—you couldn’t tell the difference between night and day in the dank, gloomy stone tomb that you’d spent the last few…days? Weeks?—in. You didn’t know anymore. It didn’t matter anymore.

The slow scrape of stone on stone forewarned more pain as you sagged against the rusted chains that bit into your bloody-soaked wrists.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name was jarring in a place where your identity never seemed to matter. You struggled to lift your head, seeing first the shadow of the stranger, then his shoes, all the way until you could make out the silhouette of a face.

“Y/N! Dean, I found her!”

The voice felt familiar, but in an indistinct way; like seeing someone who recognized you, but you couldn’t place their face.

Large hands on your face had all the breath leaving your lungs as you whimpered in fear.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. N/N it’s me, you’re ok.”

The name came to you as if from a nearly-forgotten dream.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Sam’s voice was gentle as he reached over and started to work at the locks holding your chains in place. You didn’t notice Dean approaching, but when your chains gave way and your knees buckled, Dean was there to catch you.

“It’s ok sweetheart. We’re gonna take you home.”

…

You’d been in your room for three days. Sam and Dean had been going in and trying to coax you out, but you hadn’t moved, spoken, or even had anything to eat. Dean had kept Jack out of your room completely, despite both Jack and Sam’s protests.

“Look, I know you don’t trust him, but he and Y/N…they’ve connected, Dean. She likes him, and she trusts him. He could help her.”

“What, you think he can do something we can’t?” Dean scoffed.

“Maybe,” Sam answered honestly. “But it can’t hurt to try.”

“Yes it cou-“

“No, no it couldn’t,” Sam stopped Dean before he could even finish. “Jack won’t hurt her, Dean. He just won’t. I know you hate it, but they care about each other, and you can’t stop that.”

Dean gritted his teeth, mulling over Sam’s words.

“Fine. But if it doesn’t work, then he stays away.”

Sam sighed.

“Deal.”

…

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm, stopping him before he could follow Jack into your room.

“Just give them a little space,” Sam whispered. Dean scowled, but stayed in the doorway.

“Y/N?” Jack’s voice was quiet, but you flinched anyway. “It’s ok, it’s me, it’s Jack.”

Your head lifted, only about an inch, and your eyes flicked up to Jack before you looked back down.

“I really missed you around here,” Jack continued, climbing up to sit next to you on your bed. Dean stiffened, but Sam held his arm to keep him from interrupting.

You stayed silent, but Jack was patient.

“Nothing was the same around here. I’m glad you’re back, I just…I wish you felt safe now, because you are. You’re safe here, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” Jack’s hand inched towards yours, but Dean interrupted.

“Ok, you tried. Now come on.”

“Dean—“ Sam began, but Jack didn’t argue. He just stood slowly to his feet and started towards your door.

“Jack.”

Your voice stopped Jack in his tracks. He turned to look at you, and his worried brow relaxed when he saw your hand reaching out for his. He took two steps and was in front of you again, reaching forwards and grasping your hand in his.

“Hey Y/N.” Jack smiled. You returned his smile with a weak one of your own.

“Hi Jack.”

And Jack knew that it would all be ok.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Onychinus Personal Chef IIII

ꩇׁׅ݊ You became Sylus' personal chef based off of pure chance. He's picky, he's annoying and he is just so damn fine. You've shared a single breathtaking kiss leaving your head reeling with questions mind you the only answer he gave was vague and you were not having it.

ꩇׁׅ݊ ‼️MDNI‼️fem!reader, fem!oral-receiving, sylus x personal-chef!reader the final part of a 4 part series

A/N: Y'all have been freaky frogs in my inbox lately SHEEESSSH put the coochies down.

ꩇׁׅ݊ pt.1 .... ꩇׁׅ݊ pt. 2 .... ꩇׁׅ݊ pt. 3

“You’re talking in circles babes” You could hear the slight irritation in your best friends voice. You could practically see the eye roll you knew she was giving you. You know she hates when you talked in circles, but you just couldn’t believe what happened. There you were laying on the floor of your room now just staring at the ceiling — that kiss replayed over and over and over in your head.

“I know im just—” she cut you off with a heavy sigh that turned into a yawn. Shit it was getting late and time had completely flew by. “Go to sleep I know you’re tired … i’m sorry for keeping you” There was a brief pause; did she fall asleep?

“Go get your man and tell him he’s a coward” that was all she said as the line went dead and silence settled around you again. Her words resonated with you and before you knew it your feet were carrying you swiftly down the hall straight for his study. You reached for the door knob and froze just as your fingertips grazed the cool metal. Your nerves came back full force and you teetered on the edge of turning back around and acting as if the kiss never happened.

Just as you were about to turn around the door swung open and there he was in all his 6’2” white haired glory. There was no sign of shock on his face only a smirk and a raised brow. “I thought I heard a lost kitten out here what can I do for you?” He was so calm about the whole situation it seems like you were the only one losing your mind over that kiss.

You shoved him back so you could step in and kicked the door closed behind you. Seeing that same smug smile grace his lips only fueled the fire already burning inside you. “You don’t get to kiss me like that and give me some vague half assed answer about where we stand” You pressed a single finger into his chest and backed him all the way up until his legs hit his desk. He graciously sat down on the edge so he’d be eye level with you. You stared intently trying to get some kind of read on him. He met your gaze with one equally as intent before gently grabbing you wrist. “Sweetie-”

You wrenched your wrist out of his grasp “Give me a straight answer or I will quit right now” You said through gritted teeth. You didn’t need some sassy remark from him — you needed an answer or this was it. For the first time you got a read on him with his eyes wide in shock and jaw slack. “You’re making me wait” You said as you stood tall under his gaze and crossed your arms over your chest.

Sylus regained his composure as he leaned into your space and gripped you by the chin “You should know by now that I adore you” Now you were the one staring wide eyed in shock. “Do you think I'd let just anyone speak to me the way you do?” He stood — towering over you — causing you to take a few steps back, but he continued to eat up the space between you never once letting go of your chin. Before you could register what was going on Sylus had you seated on his desk and was caging you between his arms. “You’re making me wait sweetie”

He made himself comfortable between your legs as if he belonged there and leaned in close — his lips mere inches from yours. Your mouth hung partially open trying to piece together any sentence, but the heady scent of him had your mind going fuzzy. “So i’m an exception?” You whispered damn near against his lips. “You’re everything” Sylus closed the distance between the two of you; he savored the kiss just as he had in the kitchen. His hands slipping under your shirt, gripping your waist, as he pulled you flush against him. You let out a whimper and Sylus’ chest rumbled with a satisfied groan. His kiss turned from soft and sensual to something more hungry.

He kissed you like he wanted to devour you while simultaneously savoring your taste. He pulled away giving you very little time to breathe as he dragged the tip of his nose down you cheek. “Tell me you want me Miss Chef” His lips ghosted along your fluttering pulse before nipping at it causing you to moan. He littered your neck with kisses — sucking here, biting there all while his hands roamed your body giving you shivers. “Answer me” You nodded rapidly and you felt him smile against your neck just as his fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips slightly and he pressed them back down onto the desk. “Your words Miss Chef”

You let out a whine at his insistence “Yes Sylus I want you” the words rolled off your tongue effortlessly. Sylus lifted his head and gave you a chaste kiss on the lips “Lift your hips for me” you did so immediately letting him slip your shorts off along with your underwear. He dropped to his knees and stared intently as he slowly spread your legs. “Fuck” He breathed out looking at your glistening cunt. He couldn't believe you were this wet solely for him. You tried to close your legs suddenly feeling embarrassed from him just staring. “No keep them open … so pretty” He looked like he was entranced just by the site of you spread open for him.

He placed wet sloppy kisses on your thighs taking his time to get to your dripping core. “Sylus please” his teasing was becoming way too much for you. You needed his tongue now or you just might lose your mind. “I like when you beg” He blew softly on your pussy and watched you shiver. “Sylus…” Your voice hitched as he flattened his tongue against you giving you a long and languid lick. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as he closed his lips around your clit giving it a gentle suck.

Chills of satisfaction ran up your spine as he licked, sucked and lapped at your pussy like it was his last meal. “Sy im- im close I- ah!” your back arched as he dipped two fingers into you while continuously making out with your bundle of nerves. His long fingers repeatedly caressed your G spot making your toes curl in ecstasy. Sylus gazed up at you watching your reactions as he spelled his name with his tongue — marking you in his own way. He pumped his fingers faster feeling a strong need to make a mess of you right here on his desk, in his office, in his mouth. You shot out a hand gripping onto his hair as your orgasm barreled through you. His name fell from your lips in a long drawn out moan while your legs shook violently as he kept eating you out prolonging your orgasm.

You were like honey milk tea on his taste buds he groaned and hummed while you dripped down chin, making a mess on his desk. He chuckled into your cunt when you tried to run from the overstimulation. He pulled his fingers out and sucked them clean right before dragging you back to him. “Come here” he said in that low timbre voice of his that was heavy with lust and desire. Silky bands of black and red mist wrapped around you — locking you in place “Im not finished”

You threw your head back in bliss as you rode the wave of your orgasm falling over the edge once again. You were swimming in orgasmic bliss as Sylus lapped up your juices. Your brain could barely process what was happening as his evol dissipated from around you and next thing you knew you were slack in Sylus’ arms. “Will you be mine Miss Chef?” You lazily nodded and Sylus gave you a chaste kiss letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Your words Princesss”

“I’m yours” a lazy grin graced your lips “I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move coward”

taglist ; @luxis-journal @thespoiledgemini @chaoticfivesworld @alfredosaws @sylus-crow

@dancingpotatolol @raikan624 @lux-drm @midnight-wood @asleepylilcat

@maraveree @sylusdarling @liz9898 @madmunchkin

[sturnlsstuff]

PLEASE WRITE A ONESHOT OF CHRIS OVERSTIMULATING Y/N AND FUCKING HER WITH A VIBRATOR OR SOMETHING LIKE DOM!CHRIS BRAT!READER PLEAAASEEE

CHRIS PUTS YOU IN YOUR PLACE AFTER BEING A BRAT ALL DAY

[smut, dom!chris, sub!reader, mdni]

chris's cock is buried deep inside you as he pounds into you mercilessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin fill the room. his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly every now and then, the bed creaking, headboard hitting against the wall from how hard he was fucking you.

you didn't really mean to be a brat today. the attitude you would give him all day was driving chris insane. he would let it slide if you two were alone, but talking back to him in front of his brothers and friends? hell no.

you knew you're screwed when he practically dragged you out of his friend's house, pushed you into the car and in total silence drove home.

did you expect him to get annoyed with you? yes. did you know exactly what the consequences would be? not really.

your pussy constantly clenching around him as you gasp for air after another orgasm you just had. "fuckin' squeezin' me so tight.... wanted to act like a brat, huh?" he pants, "couldn't fuckin'.... behave— this what you wanted? still think you're so clever now?" his thumb presses firmly against your neck when you shake your head desperately, his other hand digs into your hip hard enough to bruise.

"c-clever... no, i don't— i... oh—" stumbling over your words, another moan leaves you when he keeps hitting your g-spot perfectly, overstimulating you on purpose.

"no, huh?" his gaze is intense as you lock eyes with him, his face a mixed mask of annoyance and lust. "then shut the fuck up and take it—" he squeezes your throat a bit harder, cutting off your air supply slightly as he pounds into you relentlessly.

you're seeing stars when the knot in your belly keeps growing again, completely going dumb on his dick which causes him to twitch inside you. "close again? f-fuckk, such a good fuckin' girl takin' my cock this— should i let you cum? after you were so— fuckin'— annoying all day—?"

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry c-chris—"

"sorry? now you're fuckin' sorry?"

"please—" that's all you're able to choke out, gripping the sheets as your orgasm crashes down over you like a wave. he groans at the feeling of you creaming around him again.

his composure shatters, with a shuddering growl he presses fully inside you, his knot starting to swell "shittt, ma... stay still... don't... fuckin'... move—"

he rides out his high, eyes locked on the way your eyebrows knitted together and mouth is slack open, whines and cries out of pleasure leaving your lips.

you're pretty sure he's done and you're able to get some air especially when his grip on your throat loosens. but oh, how much you underestimated your boyfriend sometimes.

as the aftershocks of his release fade, chris glances at the vibrator lying on the nightstand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. still buried deep inside you, he reaches for the device with a mischievous glint in his eye. you're fully oblivious to his plan, laying with your eyes closed until he picks up the vibrator and turns it on, the high pitched whine filling the room. he presses the device against your clit, the vibrations making you jerk and twitch despite being so thoroughly fucked. "open your eyes, brat. see what else we got... your favorite little toy, hm?"

a muffled scream escapes you, eyes fluttering open to look down at what he was doing. breath hitches in your throat, "chris—" you try to sway his hand away too overstimulated, but not trying hard enough when it hurts so good.

he ignores your whines, pressing the vibrator more firmly against you, his other hand reaching out to grab your thigh and throw your leg over his shoulder, opening you up even more. "too sensitive?" his tone mocks you, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you squirm.

chris leans forward and captures your mouth in a rough, dominating kiss, biting down on your lower lip, then tugging it gently as he continues to press the vibrator against you. "look at you, so pretty and overwhelmed..." you moan against his lips, feeling his hips slowly start moving, thrusting in and out as the toy continues to assault your swollen bud.

"t-too much, chris... please— oh!"

"too much, huh? but you're still so fuckin' tight.... m'not stoppin' until you can't take anymore." he pulls back from the kiss, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he observes your trembling legs and flushed cheeks. "gonna cum f'me again? seems like your greedy pussy can't get enough, hm?"

"i— i can't—" your hips twitch upwards to press more against the toy, feeling his cock moving hard enough to make your toes curl.

"yeaaah, you can, c'mon gorgeous... where's that attitude you were giving me all day?" he punctuates his words with a deep thrust. as you clench around him and grind against the vibrator, he presses it harder, stimulating your clit, the buzzing driving you wild. "thaaaat's it, brat... fuckkk—"

the stimulation with him repeatedly hitting your sweet spots has you coming undone again, you let out high pitched moans, your whole body shaking. "holy shit— hurts so... s-so good—"

he smirks, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you flush against his chest as he continues to thrust gently and keep the vibrator pressed against your swollen bud. "y'love it, though.." he growls in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "maybe this will— mmmhm, teach you how to behave—"

your fingers tangle into his hair to hold onto anything, nails digging into his back what only spurrs him on.

his thrusts becoming a little more forceful as he drives himself deeper inside you, feeling his release building again at the way you clench around him like a vice. the toy keeps buzzing against you at the same time, the combination of sensations overwhelming your poor, overstimulated pussy.

"chris if you— don't stop— oh! m'gonna— cum again—" your eyes rolling back, back arching upwards. "go ahead, baby." he pants in your ear, his voice hoarse from holding back his own release. he can feel your inner walls starting to spasm, ready to convulse around him again, your body tensing up getting closer to another release that you clearly can't handle. "gimme one more, c'mon..."

"i'm— fuck... cumming— chris, i'm—" you cry out, your body shaking uncontrollably as euphoria consumes you, completely overpowering your other senses. he watches you with satisfaction, keeping the vibrator pressed against you, prolonging your orgasm. it makes you squeeze around him so tight, he barely can move, "goddamn—"

he keeps you flush against him as he finally lets out a groan and releases inside you, flooding your already overworked pussy with his seed. you gasp for air, eyes fluttering open as you weakly mutter, "too much chris—"

he smiles against you, finally turning off the vibrator and gently pulling it away from your swollen, quivering flesh. "yeah?" he asks mischievously, nuzzling into your neck and biting gently at the sensitive skin there. "gonna keep being a brat?"

you shake your head just as he lifts up his, looking at your fucked out expression. then he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his ego boosted at the way he clearly wore you out.

"can i get cuddles tonight?" you mutters against his lips, a chuckle escapes him. "obviously."

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs

[ma-yawntu]

mine, all mine. iii.

chapter three: fare well

pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader

summary: Meeting with potential mates made you want to drown yourself, but what annoyed you even more was how much relief he provided.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: some rude guy, fluffy, neteyam being so damn respectful, parental pressure

now playing... birds of a feather by billie eilish

chapter one | chapter two | masterlist

You were sure this was the absolute worst part of being the daughter of the Olo’eyktan. You knew it was just part of life for you– but that didn’t mean you had to like it. You let your head rest in your palm as you sat in your family’s marui, the conversation you were supposed to be part of, falling on deaf ears. The stupid neck piece you were wearing was choking you and your head hurt from your freshly done braids. Every month or so, you were forced to suffer through a meal with a boy from the village your parents had picked for you and his parents while your parents tried not to give away their unbridled rage at how insolent you were being (mostly your mother).

“...isn’t that right?” Your father directed his attention toward you at the end of whatever it was he was saying. You could feel his eyes on you and you quickly looked between him, your mother and the family in front of you.

“Yeah… Yeah, sure,” you replied, completely uninterested and bored. Tonowari curled his lips inward before looking at the family in front of you with a nervous smile. Tonowari was always so sure that you would grow out of this rebellious phase when you were a child– finally cut him and your mother some slack after almost sending them to an early grave several times. But he was sorely mistaken.

“We must apologise A’tok, our daughter has been very busy with those forest Na’vi children– it has occupied a lot of her time,” your father quickly said. You could feel your mother’s eyes piercing the side of your head, surely burning two holes into your skull. “You understand.”

“Of course,” A’tok’s mother replied with a nervous smile, noticing the way the Tsahik glared at her daughter.

“Perhaps we should wrap this up?” A’tok’s father suggested. Thank Eywa someone in this marui had some semblance of sense. 

The moment A’tok and his parents left, Ronal spun around to look at you, eyes blown wide with anger. Your father rested his hands on your shoulders, bracing you for the verbal ass-kicking you were about to receive. 

“Must you embarrass us like that, ‘ite?” Your mother spat, her tone harsh. You felt your father flinch, his hands still resting on your shoulders. Your ears pinned back at her words, your tail twitching anxiously as she ran a hand down her face to calm herself. “A’tok is a nice boy, my daughter. You must think of the future of our clan, of your future–”

“A’tok is rude and arrogant,” you retorted, your voice low as you stared at the ground, jaw clenched in frustration. “He could not fill father’s role.”

Your mother sighed at that, your father gently rubbing the side of your arm. “I know that this is not what you want, ‘ite,” your mother sighed, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “but this is how it is done. This is tradition.”

Tonowari shared a look with his mate before speaking, “but we still want you to find happiness,” he said, almost nervous as to how his mate would react. Ronal gave him an annoyed look– while she had the luxury of love in her relationship, not everyone before her was so lucky, most of the time it was an agreement– a partnership rather than a union. 

“I do not think that is possible,” you mumbled, your parents glancing at one another. “May I go? I promised Reya I would be there to help her teach the Sully kids to ride the ilus,” you added, glancing up at your mother. 

“Yes, you may go,” Ronal nodded. Ronal shared a look with Tonowari as you left, feeling rather defeated after the morning’s events. You knew it would be the same thing next month and you would inevitably have to give in to your parents wishes. 

You walked through the village with your head hanging, lost in thought as you made your way to the main reef where your sister would be waiting. You didn’t understand why you had to be mated, why you and your sister or brother could not share the responsibility of leading the clan, you did not understand why it had to be you that was mated off. 

“Where are you going?” You almost screamed at the sound of A’tok’s voice behind you. He had been a pain in your ass since you were children and you wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. The idea of your parents thinking he was a suitable mate for you was disturbing beyond belief. The two of you were nothing alike– he was rude and cocky, always getting into fights and was far too angry to be the next Olo’eyktan. Sure, you could be hard-headed yourself at times, but you were at least considerate and knew how to have a conversation without talking about yourself.

“I don’t believe that is any of your business,” you retorted, continuing to walk away and ignore him. His hand suddenly reached out, clutching your upper arm as he forced you to turn to him. 

“If we are to be mated, I feel you should at least show me some respect,” he said, the stupid grin on his face making you want to punch it right off. 

“We are not going to be mated,” you spat back, reefing your arm out of his grasp to continue walking. You could see your sister in the shallow reef waving at you– at least you would be free of this interaction soon enough.

He grabbed your wrist again, this time tighter, “your parents seem to like me. You may not have a choice,” A’tok smiled cockily, his grip on your wrist beginning to hurt. You opened your mouth to start spewing off insults but that familiar accent beat you to it. 

“You have a lot of nerve putting your hands on the Olo’eyktan’s daughter,” Neteyam leaned against one of the thick trees that acted as supports for your village homes and pathways. His hair was wet, dripping all over the place as he stared A’tok down with a rather intense glare.

A’tok slowly removed his hand from your wrist and you gently rubbed at the irritated skin. “And who are you exactly? I’m sure she can handle herself.”

“Oh, I have no doubt she could,” Neteyam quickly replied, “but would you respect her disinterest in the likes of you?”

You wanted to laugh, you really did, but you elected to bite at your lip to avoid escalating the situation. A’tok looked between you and Neteyam for a moment before scoffing and leaving, his tail swishing angrily as he walked away. 

“Are you okay?” Neteyam asked as soon as he was out of earshot.

“I could have handled that,” you retorted, making your way toward the beach.

“Yeah, you seemed to have it completely under control,” Neteyam chuckled, following close behind you. 

You rolled your eyes, “I have known him since we were children, he is harmless.”

“Sure, but you don’t touch the Olo’eyktan’s daughter– or anyone’s daughter for that matter,” Neteyam replied. You stopped in your tracks, turning to look at him.

“I do not need your protection, Neteyam,” you grumbled, giving him an unimpressed look.

“Didn’t think you did,” he replied.

“Eywa, you are so annoying,” you groaned, turning on your heel to wade into the water.

“I’ll pretend that was a ‘thank you’,” he called after you.

“And I am going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” you called back. 

Riding an ilu was probably one of your favourite pass times, you had been riding ilus since you were younger than Tuk and you enjoyed teaching the children of the village how to bond and ride with them, teaching an almost fully-grown forest Na’vi was a little more entertaining though. You stood waist-deep in the water beside Neteyam, your sister lovingly assigning you to him. You ran your hands along the thick skin of the ilu’s neck, soothing the creature. 

“You want to make the bond gently,” you said softly, pulling on the ilu’s kuru. Neteyam was clinging to every word you said, listening intently as you soothed the creature. The ilu happily clicked at you as you scratched along his chin. “Here,” you held the ilu’s kuru out for him. “Gently.”

Neteyam pulled on his queue, letting the pink tendrils reach out for the ilu’s, making tsaheylu as gently as possible. The ilu’s pupils dilated, the creature’s fins splashing in the water. Your brother began to laugh behind you and both you and Neteyam watched as Lo’ak was thrown from his ilu, the creature splashing him comically. 

“Maybe don’t do that,” you winced at Neteyam as he tried not to laugh at his brother. 

“I’ll try,” he replied with a nod.

“Hold here,” you gestured to the wooden handhold that wrapped around the top of the ilu’s kuru, “he will move fast so… just hold on,” you laughed. Neteyam let out a breath and nodded at your words, gently mounting the ilu. “Feel his breath and his strength, do not try to order him– move with him.”

“Right,” Neteyam said, his hand gripping the handhold. He seemed nervous, his knuckles turning a lighter shade of blue at how hard he was gripping.

You reached your hands over his larger hands before looking at him, “relax,” you muttered softly.

Neteyam watched you for a moment, the two of you just staring at each other before you cleared your throat, stepping away from him. Neteyam took in a shaky breath before the ilu moved forward through the water, cutting through the reef. Neteyam stayed close to the ilu’s body, the two of them zipping through the reef. 

You held your head underwater, watching him move with a stupid smile on your face. Neteyam emerged from the water, the ilu gently swimming back toward you. “You did it!” you beamed, rubbing the ilu’s snout softly.

“You’re a good teacher,” Neteyam said, panting softly. You gave him a look that told him you didn’t believe him, “I’m serious.”

“It helps that you seem like an overachiever,” you retorted, Lo’ak scoffing from behind you. Neteyam scooped some water up, splashing his brother. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon helping Tuk with her own much smaller ilu, the little Na’vi giggling with delight when the ilu happily nuzzled her chest. Kiri seemed to have a way with animals, able to bond with her ilu all on her own without you or your sister’s guidance. You rode your own ilu through the reef with Tuk and Kiri; Lo’ak and Tsireya off in their own little world. At least they had the luxury of getting to spend time together because they wanted to, you were forced to meet with idiots and their parents– hours of your time you’ll never get back.

When night finally swallowed the village, you urged the Sully family to join you and your family for the village’s communal dinner by the beach. Your clan did a communal dinner once every week as a way of spending time together around the bonfire and sharing stories, Tsireya insisted you ask the Sully family to join since they were now living among your people. Neytiri was hesitant to join, the arrangement reminding her too much of her home. Jake comforted her, the two of them sitting comfortably by the bonfire while you and Tsireya showed their kids around. 

You sat by the bonfire with your sister, your knee bumping with hers as you ate your meal. Lo’ak and Kiri came to join you, Lo’ak finding a comfortable place next to Tsireya (obviously).

“Hi, Lo’ak,” she greeted with a shy smile, you and Kiri sharing a knowing look with each other.

“Mind if I join you?” Neteyam’s voice made your ears prick up, your attention turning to the oldest brother. You gestured to the spot on the sand beside you, Neteyam taking a seat right by you, little Tuk coming to sit in front of you.

“I like your hair today,” Tuk said softly, some fruit juice smudged across her cheek. 

“Thank you, little Tuk,” you smiled, wiping some of the fruit off her face.

“It’s pretty,” she giggled, “right, Neteyam?”

Neteyam looked at his sister with widened eyes, mouth full of food. He quickly nodded his head, almost choking on his food as he quickly tried to answer, “yeah– yes. Very pretty.” You chuckled softly, moving some of your hair over your shoulder, suddenly growing insecure of his eyes on you, the intricate neck piece you were still wearing somehow growing tighter around your neck.

After almost everyone had departed the beach, Tsireya insisted you both walk the Sully kids back to their marui while their parents stayed behind with the other adults of the clan. You were sure it was just so she could spend more time talking to Lo’ak and she wanted to disguise her little scheme. 

Tuk held onto Kiri’s hand as she jumped along the woven path, you hanging back behind them while Neteyam trailed behind all of you. You could feel his eyes on you, peeking over your shoulder every now and then to catch him looking before he would glance at literally anything else. 

“Why are you staring at me?” You asked boldly, pausing to let him catch up with you.

“I am not,” he replied quickly.

“You most definitely are,” you retorted.

“Awful bold of you,” he chuckled.

“Well it’s hard to focus when you keep looking at me,” you grumbled, pursuing your lips at him. Neteyam chuckled lowly at your words.

“Making you nervous, am I?” he asked curiously, lowering his head slightly to your height.

You frowned, feeling your cheeks heat as you crossed your arms over your chest, “no.”

“Convincing,” he nodded.

“Shut up,” you retorted, earning a laugh from him.

He walked beside you at a respectable distance, not letting his shoulder bump yours like Lo’ak did with Tsireya. His words from earlier in the day rattled around in your head, noting how he was so adamant on not touching you– or anyone touching you for that matter. It made your heart thump a little louder and quicker in your chest, praying to Eywa he didn’t notice. 

“Will you teach me that finger talk thing you do?” Neteyam asked, changing the subject.

“Sign language you mean?” You chuckled softly.

“Yes, sign language,” he nodded. “I would like to learn.”

“Yes, I can teach you,” you replied. “Though, I think I might have to leave you in the capable hands of my sister since I’ll be busy.”

“Busy?” Neteyam asked curiously, “with what?”

You let out an annoyed sigh at the simple thought of it, “my parents want me to meet with potential mates around the village they have picked– while it is painful for me, it must be done,” you huffed.

Neteyam took in your words for a moment, “you are not allowed to choose?” 

“I can,” you added, “but I am taking too long… to be fair, I am quite harsh.”

“You?” Neteyam asked sarcastically, “no way.”

You playfully shoved his side with a grin on your face, “not funny.”

“I am joking,” he quickly said, regaining his posture after your weak shove, “I’m sure that must be difficult.”

“It’s not exactly fun,” you replied, “and I have to wear this stupid thing,” you sighed, pulling at the neck piece your parents insisted you wear. It was intricate and covered in various beads and shells– your mother had worn it and so did your grandmother, it seemed fitting you wore it too, as much as it pained you.

“It’s not stupid,” Neteyam said softly, “it’s not you though.”

“Not me?” you repeated.

“Just doesn’t seem like something you would like, that’s all,” he added. 

“And you know that, how?” you asked, genuinely curious as to what his reasoning might be. The two of you were beginning to lag behind the rest of his siblings without really noticing, lost in the conversation. It pained you to admit you actually enjoyed talking to him.

“Well, I mean, I don’t know you very well. But I know enough to know you wouldn’t enjoy wearing something like that,” Neteyam replied, slightly nervous.

You hummed, “well, you’re right.”

“But,” he started, a nervous breath leaving his lips, “I would like to get to know you more… if you’d like to know me too, you know?”

You laughed at his words softly, “that would be nice.”

You felt a smile pull at the corners of your lips, that had to be the first time someone has ever thought about what you would like without you telling them. It felt nice to be seen.

a/n: i apologise this is short! i have finals coming up :< pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist

taglist: @s0urw00lf, @peqch-pie, @greatsstuffsposts

[stevie-petey]

blurb idea? stug isn't having sex yet obviously but maybe dustin walks into bug's room while they're lying really close on her bed reading together and he flips his shit like OH MY EYES and they're like ...boy we're literally just sitting here. and steve's over for dinner and dustin refuses to look at him and claudia's like ok what's up and you're like literally nothing he's so dumb

i love dramatic dustin with stug so YES !!

enjoy <3

"so jo just rejects laurie? like, flat out, brutally rejects his marriage proposal after years of being best friends and basically already in love?"

"i mean, there are some nuances youre missing, but yeah. basically."

"what kind of sick book is this?" steve shoves the book away from him in disdain. his nose is scrunched up, offended, and you refrain from kissing it all better.

you fix a piece of hair thats fallen in his face as he lays next to you on your bed. "jo and laurie are tragic, i'll admit." your words are rough from reading for hours. steve always insists that you read the books for him, he claims youre better at it, but you know its because he loves the sound of your voice. "but its what makes the book so wonderful, dont you think?"

steve rolls his eyes at you. "your obsession with tragic romances concerns me. what, are you going to reject my proposal next? make me beg on my hands and knees for you?"

"technically you already did beg on your hands and knees for me-"

"wait, you didnt say youd accept my proposal."

with a sly laugh you clear your throat and bring the book back up to your face, continuing to read. steve stares at you as you read the heartbreaking words aloud, his eyes travel the length of your neck and the slope of your nose. the scene youre reading breaks his heart more than hed care to admit. youve been reading little women to steve for a few weeks now. he really thought itd be jo and laurie in the end.

lost in the way you voice lilts between jos soft rejection and lauries broken pleads, neither you nor steve hear dustin calling for you until its too late.

the boy barges into your room and nearly shrieks his head off when he realizes steve is in bed with you. "my eyes!" he cowers to close the door, covering his face with his grubby little hands.

"dustin!" you shout at him, throwing a pillow at him to shut up him. hes being dramatic, you and steve werent even doing anything. your boyfriend is lying next to you while you read him a long and horrendous breakup scene from a classic book. if anything, the two of you should be doing literally anything else.

steve rolls off your bed and lands on his feet in one fluid motion before running over to your brother. grabbing dustins shoulders, he shakes him to try and stop the screaming. "hey! alright, can you quit it?"

"no! you were-you-my eyes!" dustin scrubs at his face with utter turmoil. he hadnt even known that steve was in his house. normally the asshole makes his presence known, stops by dustins room to say hi. its why he barged in in the first place.

had dustin known hed walk into steve in your bed, he wouldve brought a goddamn flame thrower with him instead.

"we were reading, you moron!" youre next to steve now, desperately trying to quiet your brother before your mom asks whats going on. hes already bad enough, but if your mother finds out steve had been in your bed as well, thered be permanent hearing loss.

"read at your desk! thats what those damn things are built for!"

steve shoves his hand through his hair, agitated. "oh, and who are you? the desk police?"

"'desk police'?" you stare at the teen, disappointed. "thats the best you could come up with?"

"im under a lot of pressure right now. cut me some slack."

"i want you dead."

both you and steve turn to dustin, shocked and disturbed by his words.

"okay, thank you for sharing your feelings, dustin." awkwardly you pat his shoulder. at least hes being honest and open with you. "not necessarily what i wanted to hear, but im proud of you for sharing-"

"he wants me dead and youre commending him?"

"not now," jamming an elbow into steves side, you shut him up and focus on your brother again. "now, is there a reason you barged in or can we go back to reading?"

dustins grimace on his face seems permanent now. his nose is slightly upturned, his eyes distrusting. narrowing them at you, he takes slow, calculated steps back out of your room. "dinner is ready," he says tersely before leaving entirely.

"well, this will be fun." steve sighs, and you nod grimly.

dinner is not fun.

dustin doesnt look steve in the eye the entire time. he sits as far away as possible from the teen. when asked to pass the bread, dustin pointedly ignores steves request and throws a roll to you. the bread nearly knocks your mothers water over and shes finally had enough.

"goodness, dusty! what has gotten into you tonight?" she exclaims, settling the glass that threatens to spill.

mouth full of mashed potatoes, his eyes light up evilly. before he can even think about opening his obnoxious mouth, you kick him underneath the table. your foot connects with his shin and dustin wheezes mashed potatoes all over his meal.

"dusty!" your mother gasps, alarmed. she looks at you in concern while steve snorts into his glass of water. "what is going on with you three?"

"nothing, mom." grabbing the bread that was thrown at you, you pick it apart with your fingers and make a delighted sound. "dinner is lovely tonight, by the way."

"i love what youve done with the mashed potatoes, mrs. henderson." steve is quick to add, jumping in. he makes a whole show of scooping up the mashed food and shoving it into his mouth, moaning in pleasure. "is there garlic in this?"

your mother, always easily distracted, claps her hands with joy. "why, yes! i wanted to try something different. do you really like it?"

"i adore it."

later that night you find yurtle the turtles mealworms underneath your pillow.

[cmkren]

— a human’s touch

; house x gn! reader

Maybe in some other lifetime romanticism wasn’t lost to House. That he had grown into a man capable of giving clear-cut affections— and capable of receiving it as well. The first ever puzzle he never wanted to solve, and it was of his heart. You, on the other hand, couldn’t give a damn about it all. You tied yourself to him after all.

In your lap, maybe that fact of House’s could be forgotten. For an hour or two.

a/n: i’ve never written for house, or house md at all. Currently in s4, and I’m just so attached to this crowd of misfits. I’m sorry if he ends up ooc— I just wanted to write something as close to fluff as I can with house LMAO 😭

tws; nothing you wouldn’t find in the show — 1.08k words

“What, are we playing mommy and her sexually frustrated boytoy? I don’t recall putting this into the search bar.”

“I don’t think you’re young and spry enough to be playing the pool boy in this scenario. Take as much offence as you’d want to that shocking revelation.”

Despite the very particular banter, nothing nefarious was happening in this scene. It was quite normal actually. In the tidiness of his apartment the two steeped in each other’s presence. Steeped may have been a strange word for it, but it fit the two. House was chatty like always, but even now and then he had grown quiet. Either getting caught by a specific feature of his partner (still thick on his tongue, not something he ever says really) or deep in his own thoughts.

What prompted him to make the off handed remark? Some might ask, especially when they were having such a peaceful moment!

The obvious answer would be because he’s House. What else was he supposed to do? The not-so-obvious answer was the strange feeling in his chest, as his head lay against the thighs of the person he oh-so cautiously let pull him down to such a position. If he turned his head sideways, you’d most certainly feel the prick of his unkempt beard.

He flexes his fingers, arms sort of kept… limp. Close to his chest. The pale blue of his eyes looking up to the other, brow wrinkled into a furrow as he felt awkward. He only allowed himself to be so hesitant for a second more before he went slack jawed and widened his eyes— a mockery of coming to another ‘revelation’.

“Oh! Pray tell me then, what are we?” Spoken like a young teenager picking out lines from a rom-com they watched the day before to aid them in romantic endeavours. His arms even moving just the slightest to resemble a ‘gosh darn it!’ kind of movement. That garnered an amused noise out of you, your hand very gently resting atop his mess of hair.

“Not we, you. What you are, is a man who can’t even sit still and let me dote on you. So I resorted to,” your free hand gestured to him. Legs stretched and resting on the arm rest of his couch, his head comfortably in your lap, “this.”

Then it was House’s turn to give a little snort.

“What you’ve resorted to is crippling a cripple. Can’t move! Should I go dial 911? Or are you going to kick my legs from behind just as I reach my phone?” This time, there wasn’t any sort of sound akin to laughter. Instead, you gave the hairs atop his head a bit of a tug. A warning.

A grunt left him, his eye wincing a little from the sensation but his wit outran any sort of complaint, “Pineapple! Oh— right we aren’t doing anything like that.” He still shot you a half-hearted look. All the playing around didn’t get him anything but a gentle expression though, a soft look in your eye that said that you would put up with him more than he could ever dream of.

A look he’d seen, but never truly appreciated. He wasn’t quite sure if he did so, even now.

“I would tell you to stop being stupid, but I know I could never stop that.”

“Wow, thanks.”

The way you leaned down to give press a kiss atop his forehead spoke to the fact that you never meant any malice or exasperation in their words. Sure, there was bound to be exhaustion, everyone had breaking points. You were always so lenient with him. Even if you wouldn’t admit that yourself.

Suppose in a way, they understood each other like that.

House didn’t react much to the kiss. You gave a lot of those, so. He didn’t say anything though, so that was either a good indication or a bad indication. 50/50, who knows maybe you should flip a coin.

“Good day at the hospital?” You mumbled, slowly twirling the short strands on his head, coiling them around your fingers. House’s face visibly relaxed, only flexing and moving as he responded. “Oh, yeah, like Santa’s little workshop there. Bundle of joy, fun bright lights.” He muttered, eyes closing for a moment.

Everyone knew that his days were full of pain. He made sure everyone knew, actually. Always made sure that everyone had to be dragged down with him. With you though, he toned it down. Just a little bit.

Your hand caressed the side of his face, gliding down the rough surface and down his scraggly beard. Mindless shapes formed along his skin, his eyes trained on your face. Whether your face would contort the longer you looked at him. As if waiting for you to have a revelation of your own— that he wasn’t who you wanted to spend your time with. That’d you’d wake up soon. Wake up from the dream you seemed so content with, him in your lap and the carefulness of your gestures.

“Something on my face?” Your hand trailed back up to his cheekbone, before pinching the skin there. A smile on your face, for him. For a moment, he stayed silent. Lips that were once parted were now pursed into a tight line, furrow of his brows suggested that he was thinking again.

The longer you waited though, the lighter your touch became. As if you were drawing back. An end to a gentle moment.

“No,” his hands shot up, taking yours in his own. His eyes firm, before they would soften and close as he brought your hands to his face. “Keep it this way a little longer.” For once, not a quip. A moment of genuine love, one that came out of him thinking this was all but fleeting.

In reality, you hardly moved at all.

You were just going to shift, hopefully making him more comfortable if he had felt the position a little awkward. Instead he cradled your hands as if they were the one thing keeping him off his pills. Even just for a short amount of time. Your shoulders went lax, tilting your head as you gave a faint smile. “Okay.” Was all you said.

“I’d rather have you touch me than the old reliables here,” one of his hands let go, giving a bit of a jazzy shake as if to emphasize, “god knows I’ve touched myself enough. Your hands are softer.” You snorted.

“I don’t doubt it.”