#but why it tore me down so easily

[mayplantstarrwaters]

listening to classic jazz made me feel so wonderful but at the same time i always brought me an unexplainable melancholic mood, which is kinda a curse

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[fangswbenefits]

Suit Up

Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)

Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.

Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.

He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.

Especially you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.

Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.

Or so he hoped.

He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.

“Good morning.”

As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.

A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.

You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.

“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”

His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.

You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.

Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.

He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.

You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.

His cock gave him a warning twitch.

He was all too familiar with those by now.

Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?

He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.

“Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.

There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.

Apologising for making a mess…

“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”

You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”

Right.

He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”

“What? But I built this one myself��� what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.

His cock twitched again.

“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”

A blatant lie.

He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.

How else would he mark you without you even realising?

You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.

“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”

His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”

Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.

“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”

He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.

You deserved more than a nod.

And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.

It was quite addicting.

He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.

Fuck.

He would teach you all he knew.

You’d have all of him.

But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.

“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”

You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.

“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.

You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.

“Wait, do I have be naked?”

The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”

Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.

You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”

He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.

The reaction was immediate.

Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.

For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.

You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.

He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.

“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.

You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.

“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.

The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.

He needed more.

He needed to touch you.

“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”

He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.

You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.

He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.

“Do you trust me?”

You shouldn’t…

You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”

… because he wouldn’t.

He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.

You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.

You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”

His sweet girl…

How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?

Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.

This was driving him mad.

Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.

You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.

“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied.

Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…

He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.

You’d struggle at first.

But he’d be patient.

He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.

You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.

His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.

Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.

Was this too much?

In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed you closer.

He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.

He needed you to need him.

You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.

“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.

You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.

Oh, fuck.

He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.

You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.

He wish he could set his cock free.

No.

He wish you would offer to set his cock free.

He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.

“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”

Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?

Against his will, he nodded.

He needed you gone right away.

He had to get off urgently.

“You’re overworking yourself again…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.

Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”

Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”

Your hand dropped.

Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.

He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.

“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.

Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.

In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.

He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.

“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.

His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.

From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.

That would do.

For now.

Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.

Dangerously close.

It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.

Faint anger took over him.

You should be the one to bring him relief.

This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.

The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.

You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.

You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.

Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.

So eager to please.

He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.

Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.

But he had to get rid of this now.

He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.

Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.

They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.

The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.

Just you.

His sweet girl.

Just his.

He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.

The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.

He would break himself for you.

And you would, too.

You just didn’t know it yet.

Part 3

Masterlist

[ssahotchnerr]

okay imagine a reader who’s clumsy asfff, and aaron is always there to stop her from falling flat on her face ahaha

falling for you

cw; clumsy bau!reader, established relationship, aaron's injured and minor blood mentions, angst? if you squint, fluff <3

A rural town surrounded by acres of woods: a serial killer's perfect playing field. Plenty of remote, secluded places to dump victims.

The trail on which you were walking was barely passable; narrow, obstructing hanging branches, the dirt path littered with slippery rocks due to the rainstorm the night prior.

One wrong step, poor footing on an angle, could result in sliding down a steep ledge. It wasn't comparable to a cliff - an eight foot incline at least - but could easily result in injury nonetheless.

Which naturally you of all people were bound to intercept; always moving too quickly for your own good, more focused on the destination rather than the journey - ultimately feeding into your habitual clumsiness.

Aaron took notice of the rock slab before you did, reaching out suddenly to grab at your arm the second your foot took a dive off the side. While you managed to escape unscathed due to his heroism, he wasn't as fortunate.

You had coerced him onto the passenger seat - if it were up to him, the two of you would've continued to the crime scene - cleaning and bandaging the bloody gash on his forehead yourself. He hadn't fallen, but knocked into a firm, solid branch, as well as scraped his arm on another, ripping his sleeve in the process.

"Stop moving so much."

Aaron's chest huffed in a faint laugh, "I'm not even moving."

A subtle glare came from you, "You could be concussed."

"I'm not concussed. Banged up maybe, but not concussed."

"Maybe?" The sight before you tore at your heart, Aaron's pretty face scraped up. "You mean definitely. And prove it."

A clever, amused expression formed on his face, "The United States government consists of-"

"Okay, okay." You surrendered with a playful eye roll, dismissing his impending recitation.

Admittedly you were flustered, solely for the fact that it should've been you - the one bumped up and bleeding. Your bottom lip was sticking out in a pout, cleaning his wound with an alcohol wipe.

He winced briefly at the sting, eyes watching your movements. "I know what you're thinking."

"You should've let me take the fall." As if by clockwork, the bandaid in your hand fell onto the wet asphalt. Annoyedly you reached down to pick it up, hastily tossing it to the SUV's floor before grabbing a fresh one from the first aid kit.

Aaron scoffed lightly, "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious," Your lip jut out even more, pulling your gaze to his exasperatedly. "Or Morgan should've at least accompanied you."

"Sweetheart, you know I'm in better company when you're around."

"He's more coordinated than I am," you insisted, your fingers fumbling together as you peeled the bandaid open, smoothing it over his broken skin. Carefully. You repeated the same for the gash on his forearm. "He can duck and leap from side to side without a second thought, has a much faster reaction time and, well, he's Morgan."

"Sweetheart-"

"He's not clumsy," you huffed out, crumbling the plastic in your fist. Your clumsiness, as incredibly inconvenient as it was, had never 'bothered' you to an extent.

But now that you had caused Aaron to get hurt, everything changed. It was a surprise it hadn't happened sooner, and it was only a matter of time before you caused another incident. One with a larger, more menacing result.

"In a terrain that's damp and woodsy and has twigs and leaves poking out, I should be the farthest person away," you rambled, covered with guilt. "Why they even let me join the field in the first place... I don't know."

"Because you're an outstanding profiler, have a keen eye that catches details the rest of us overlook, never backs down despite heinous barriers. Must I go on? I can, the list is quite extensive."

"Regardless, it doesn't excuse the fact I'm accident prone." You insisted, your sentence ending on a deep sigh.

"You aren't-"

"Aaron," you interrupted, "how many times have you reached out to stop me from flying into a table, or have reminded me to slow down. Look what just happened."

"You didn't fall because you're clumsy, honey. You fell- no, tripped because it rained and your shoes lacked the proper traction."

"But because of me, you're hurt." Your voice wavered the smallest amount, you could cry if pushed.

"And I'd do it again if it meant saving you." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyeing the CSI agents not too far away. "And again," Another kiss, this time on your lips, "and again. It's a small price to pay if you're unharmed."

"Kissing me at a crime scene? You must be concussed." You quipped softly, lips itching to smile. Although you wanted to continue sulking, he was making it awfully difficult.

A laugh exited him; the rare laugh of his that minimal people experienced, and one that could lift your spirits in less than a milli-second. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm not concussed."

You still weren't convinced - your inelegant tendencies not to disappear by morning - but you did feel better compared to how you felt five minutes ago. "Thank you."

Your hand grabbed onto his arm lovingly, a grateful gesture, but produced an immediate flinch from Aaron.

Your eyes widened in horror, heart nearly stopping, "I'm so-"

"You're welcome." Aaron stopped you, grabbing your hand and providing a reassuring squeeze. His expression was kind, compassionate although you should've been the one soothing him.

You exhaled deeply after a moment, readjusting his rolled-up cuff sleeve. "I owe you a new shirt too."

He smiled, his hand lifting to chuck you under your chin gently. "I'll add it to your tab."

[hitomisuzuya]

Imagine having an argument with Wanderer then it ends up with rough sex (with a little of praises here and there)

Wanderer (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Rough, angry sex. Degradation. Praise.

Don't mind if I do😳

"Oh, watch your step to hell, Scara. It's a long fall," As patient as you were with Wanderer, there were going to be arguments. It's was inevitable given his disposition. You glared at him, shaking a little bit from anger.

"Tch," Wanderer grit his teeth, returning your glare. He smacked a hand on the wall next to your head. "Why must you be so-"

You cut him off. "What? Infuriating? Like you?" Despite his attempt to make you flinch, (which you delighted in not giving him the reaction he wanted), you were determined to stand your ground. He'd stamped on your last nerve and you were going to make sure he heard about it.

Through his anger, Wanderer's body started to burn with desire. Fuck how it made his cock pulse when you talked back to him. He grasped your jaw, squeezing it a little. "You need to be put in your place," He hissed.

"Oh, go ahead. Put me in my place, Scara," You retorted, trying to ignore the weakness already caving in your body. It always made you so weak when he is dominant with you. "I don't break easily."

Wanderer snickered. He knew that was a bold face lie. "You'll break, and when you do, it will be so fucking satisfying," His lips collided with yours in a harsh, possessive kiss.

His hands angrily tore at your at your clothes as he backed you up towards the bed. A smirk started to tug at the corners of his mouth hearing you attempt to swallow a moan, keeping your mouth obediently open for his tongue.

Wanderer was going to relish in that little sign, he knew you would get a second wind of stubbornness. But this would only go one way. He knew exactly how to handle you. "What a good girl, already submitting to me," His eyes were trained on anticipation on your reaction, pushing you down onto his bed.

You felt such a warmth spread through you hearing him praise you. You blushed realizing your panties were wetter than you thought they would be. A moan started to rise in your throat, which you visibly swallowed back (as hard as it was).

Wanderer's eyes hooded into a glare, roughly yanking your panties off, the final annoyance in his way. The garment practically peeled from your pussy, his cock straining harder from the victory of seeing you already so wet. "Weak little slut, so wet already," He taunted, pinching your clit.

A suddenly jolt of pleasure went through you, being further stunned as Wanderer pushed two fingers inside of you. His degradation made your clit throb, your juices soaking his wrist as your walls started to clamp around his fingers.

Your hips jerked up to grind into his fingers as he hooked them into your sweet spot. Your hand clamped over your mouth, his fingers stretching you apart and pumping against your sweet spot sent such shocks of pleasure through you.

His fingers were making you start to come undone, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of moaning for him. You were determined, your legs shaking as your hips rolled into his fingers.

"Stubborn slut, aren't you?" Wanderer growled, increasing the pace of his fingers to see you squirm. You dared to hide your noises from him. "You'll break for me, I promise," He emphasized his last two words, removing his fingers from your sloppy pussy.

He flipped you over onto your stomach, smacking a hand across your ass he pulled your hips up. You bit your lip, a quiet yelp of pleasure betraying you. Wanderer jumped on that like a rapid dog.

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing and teasing it. He watched your body shake with a hint of pride, his cock pulsing as you grinded back against his fingers. You clawed at the sheets.

Wanderer smacked his hand on your ass again. You gripped the sheets tighter as your pussy clenched around nothing. Grasping his cock, he pushed it inside of you, slowly stretching you out until he bottomed out.

His hands found tight purchase on your hips, not giving you any time to adjust before he set an angry, harsh rhythm. His hips smacked into yours, groaning as your pussy clenched like a glove around him.

Pleasure burst wet hot and intense behind your eyes. You pushed your hips back into his thrusts, loud moans starting to tear from your throat. Wanderer grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head up. "Is my infuriating cock making you feel good, slut?" He taunted condescendingly in your ear, driving his cock into your sweet spot at a dizzying rate.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your approaching orgasm was just building up so tight. "Yes! Yes it is!" You finally moaned, feeling a small dent to your pride. The feeling was melted away as Wanderer's cock nudged into your sweet spot. It felt so good to finally give into him. "Your cock is making me feel so good!"

Wanderer groaned huskily, cumming from the exhilaration of making you fall apart. He was merciless now, fucking his cum up inside of you, praying the intensity of his thrusts would make it ooze out your pussy. "Good girl," He cooed, letting your hair go, "See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

His cock nudged into your sweet spot just right, the knot of your orgasm breaking apart. Wanderer moaned feeling your release soak onto his cock, rubbing your clit to nurse you through your orgasm.

You were whimpering by the time he pulled out, collapsing onto your side, panting on the bed. "You are.. such a jerk," You said somewhat incoherently.

"I know," He chuckled, stroking a hand through your hair.

[reidsworld]

Cinnamon and Whiskey

Summary: Secret Santa and tipsy flirting with Logan at the X-Men Christmas party. Based on this request.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, making out, dubious consent (they are both under the influence), no use of Y/N, not proof read — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!

Word Count: 1k

Mars speaks… it’s been a while lol, i’ve lowk forgotten how to write a proper summary so ig you’re just gonna have to read the fic🤷‍♀️ also tysm for 400 followers, i am so unbelievably grateful for all of you 🫶 merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!

Masterlist

The mansion buzzed with warmth and light, a soft glow from the Christmas tree illuminating the crowd of X-Men mingling and laughing. The smell of pine and cinnamon wafted through the room, blending with the faintest hint of whiskey every time Logan walked past.

You weren’t sure if it was the mulled wine, the festive atmosphere, or just the way Logan leaned casually against the far wall, his broad shoulders back and one boot crossed over the other, but he was occupying far too much of your attention tonight.

Maybe it was the way his shirt clung to him just right, or how his hair was artfully messy, as if he hadn’t tried at all. Or maybe it was the way he caught your gaze every so often, raising his glass in a wordless toast before smirking into his drink.

Whatever it was, it left a flutter in your chest that had nothing to do with holiday spirit.

Logan had always been like this—rough around the edges but impossible to ignore. There was something about his sharp wit, the way his voice dropped when he teased you, the way he had a knack for being exactly where you didn’t expect him to be. He got under your skin, and you hated how much you loved it.

You stole another sip of your wine, trying to keep your focus anywhere but on him. But that was easier said than done. Especially when he started weaving through the crowd, a new drink in his hand and a distinctly relaxed swagger in his step.

The flush in his cheeks was more than the usual rugged tan. Logan was definitely tipsy, his edges softer tonight, his smirk lazier.

“Don’t look too excited,” he drawled, stopping in front of you. “You’re makin’ it obvious.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Excited about what? Watching you pretend you’re not having a good time?”

Logan huffed out a laugh, his whiskey-smooth voice laced with amusement. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart.”

Before you could come up with a retort, he glanced down at the brown-paper-wrapped box in your hands. “That yours?”

“Yeah. Guess it’s from my Secret Santa.” You eyed him suspiciously. “Why? You know something?”

“Maybe.” His smirk deepened, and he tipped his glass toward the gift. “Go on. Open it.”

You hesitated, your pulse quickening as his gaze lingered on you. It was ridiculous how easily he could fluster you, how just standing near him made your heart race.

With a dramatic sigh, you pulled the string loose and tore open the paper. When you opened the box, your breath caught—and then a laugh burst out of you.

Inside was a lacy red garter belt, delicate and undeniably suggestive.

“Logan!” you hissed, your face burning as you quickly closed the lid. “This is wildly inappropriate.”

His grin widened, and he took another sip of his drink, his free hand resting on his hip. “Thought it’d suit you,” he said, his voice laced with teasing warmth.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as you tried to glare at him, though your lips betrayed you with an uncontrollable smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned in just a little, his smirk turning wicked. “Why don’t you show me just how insufferable you think I am?”

You were saved from answering by Hank handing Logan his own gift, wrapped in shiny gold paper. You watched as Logan tore into it with the casual precision of a man who didn’t give a damn about being neat.

Inside was a pack of cinnamon-flavoured breath mints and a small bottle of dark cologne that smells of musk and wood.

Logan chuckled, holding up the mints with a raised eyebrow. “This you?”

You grinned, trying to steady your voice despite the heat creeping up your neck. “Figured you'd need something to freshen up after all those drinks. Can’t have you smelling like whiskey and trouble.”

Logan’s grin deepened, and he stepped closer, his voice a low, teasing growl. “Oh yeah? And what if I want to smell like trouble?”

You leaned in just enough for your breath to brush against his ear, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “If you really want to see trouble, maybe I’ll try on that little gift you got me…” you trailed off, letting the challenge hang in the air, your eyes locking with his.

–

The door slammed shut behind you, and before you could catch your breath, Logan’s hands were on your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips crashed into yours with a heat that sent a jolt of electricity straight through your body. The kiss was messy, urgent, the faint taste of whiskey still lingering on his mouth as your fingers tangled in his hair.

Your back hit the shelves with a soft thud, but you didn’t care, too lost in the way his body pressed against yours, solid and overwhelming. His hands slid up your sides, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your throat as his lips trailed along your jawline.

“Hold on,” you whispered, breathless, breaking away just enough to reach into his pocket. Logan’s smirk deepened as he watched you pop a cinnamon mint into your mouth, his gaze locked on your lips.

“You takin’ a breather already?” he teased, his voice low and rough, his fingers tracing lazy circles at your waist.

“Just freshening up,” you replied, your tone full of mischief as you tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. Before he could respond, you kissed him again, nudging the mint into his mouth with your tongue.

Logan chuckled against your lips, the sound sending a shiver through you. “Always full of surprises,” he murmured, his words brushing against your skin as he kissed you deeper, the cinnamon’s warmth adding a sweet burn to the heat already between you.

You grinned, tilting your head to meet his next kiss with playful fervour. “Figured you’d appreciate a little spice.”

“Oh, I do,” he muttered, his lips moving to your neck, his voice thick with desire. “But I think you’re the only spice I’m gonna need.”

Mars speaks... (again) ty for reading, as always, all likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated (and encouraged)! hope y'all enjoyed my first fic after me not updating for nearly 4 months xx

[xxsabitoxx]

Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 

Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 

[anjellaufeyson]

I could treat you better - Bellamy Blake

Time stamp: 1:38

My boyfriend was lovely–his friend wasn’t. Bellamy Blake was the rudest man I’ve ever come across; I only tolerated him for my boyfriend. 

Murphy kissed me before he got pulled away for work, he was doing guard watch. I sighed, why couldn’t Bellamy do this? He always had Murphy doing everything for him, and I’m sick of it. Whenever Muphy comes back to our tent he’s exhausted or too tired to even spend time with me. I left my tent and walked inside Bellamy’s, he was shirtless and a girl was lying on his bed. I immediately left with a disgusted look on my face. 

Soon he came out searching for me, “What do you want, princess?” 

I palmed my face while we strolled together through Arkadia, “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t call me that, Blake. Especially since some people say that when they’re together.” 

He tilted his head, his eyes gazing into mine, he glanced down with a bit of a smile, “Right, whatever you say, princess.” 

The need to correct and argue with him was there but I ignored it for the sake of Murphy. “okay–can you please stop keeping my boyfriend working late? I’m aware of how things are, like it or not I’m one of the smart ones and I think he’s being overworked and–”

Bellamy’s face showed confusion in itself, “Murphy gets off at the same time as everyone else. I work the late nights, I’m who stays up all night, every night.” 

I stopped moving, trying to process my indecision and incoming sense of betrayal. “Wait, you haven’t been keeping Murphy late or hanging out with him late?” 

He shook his head and crossed his arms, his muscles clenching to his tight shirt. His veins popping out. My eyes tore away, my emotions were my only focus. “No, I don’t think anyone has. We’ve been on a lockdown since Clarke went missing.” 

My brain racked everything Murphy’s ever told me since he began ‘working’ late. I thought of the girl I assumed he had a relationship with but when I questioned him, he brushed me off. Out of anger, I took off leaving Bellamy, who ended up following behind me calling for my name. I moved the tent side and immediately saw Murphy and the girl kissing. They stopped once they noticed me and how distraught I looked. 

I backed up and accidentally bumped into Bellamy’s chest, I didn’t cry. I felt like I should cry, my body begged to cry, but when you did here–it made you seem weak. And I’d never want Murphy to see me cry even though my heart did in return. I turned and tried to shield myself with Bellamy’s chest, but hesitantly he put his arms around me. Trying to comfort me but I knew we both detested each other. He never liked me with Murphy for a reason I am unaware of, and I just never liked him. He brushed his hand up and down my back, almost in circular motions. 

Murphy’s voice appeared from behind me but I didn’t dare to look back because I felt so vulnerable, I knew I would cry. “I need to talk with her, I can explain!”

Bellamy stepped in, holding me closer. His voice was demanding, his tone was deep, “Murphy, you should go. Now. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll do it later.” 

I could hear Murphy protesting before easily giving up, he didn’t care to try. I pushed away from Bellamy who almost looked shocked at how quickly I switched up. 

We had to go on a mission, and I found myself in a difficult position. A hand covered my mouth and once I realized I didn’t know the person whose hand it was I began to get a bit scared. I tried to fight them off but couldn’t–it had to be a grounder. 

The grounder pulled a sword on me and dug into my back, but not enough to hurt me but it pierced the skin. He pushed me onto my knees where my friends were–including Bellamy. The whole hunting group was in. Murphy seemed nervous. I guess I should be too, especially since it’s my life on the line. 

“Who’s valuable to her?”

What an odd fucking question–is this supposed to be leverage? Might as well let me die. 

Bellamy not even a second later stepped forward, “She’s with me, that’s my girlfriend.” He spoke so truthfully that even everyone we knew was aware he was lying through his teeth. 

“What are you willing to give me in turn for her life?” 

His eyes almost turned vulnerable, his words coming off as pathetic as his tone came off as pleads. “What do you want?” 

The grounder moved the sword which caused me to wince, “I want Wanheda.” Everyone shared a confused glance, who is that? “Give her to me and I won’t kill her.” 

“Take me instead, she has a better chance of getting through to Wanheda than me.” What is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed–I’m aware he can handle himself but this is almost suicidal. The grounder pushed me into Bellamy’s arms. He squeezed my hand for the quickest second and moved to the grounder who hit him immediately. 

I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how to, Bellamy could’ve attacked but stayed down, taking another punch with ease. I stepped forward but he put his hand up, “Don’t,” he demanded while blood ran down his cheek. 

Why was he willing to do this for me? We’ll never find her, I mouthed. He did a tiny nod. They need you, I mouthed once more. He got kicked in his ribs and I knew I lost his attention but while the grounder was distracted I quickly stole Murphy’s gun and shot the grounder. My aim was good, but I hated shooting, killing wasn’t something I wanted to do. But I had to–for him. 

Without processing what I did I went to Bellamy’s side. I hated his stupidity and I hated how he saved my life. “I hate you,” I said as I helped him up. He spit out blood, “I know,” he said while wincing from getting up too quickly. 

While Bellamy was getting medical from Abby, I was talking with Octavia and Jasper. Murphy approached grabbing my arm, “Were you and Bellamy seeing each other behind my back?”

His breath reeks of Monty’s moonshine, “Are you serious? You’ve been cheating on me, Murphy?”

“Were you yes or no?” 

Before I could say anything Bellamy put his arm around my waist. His hands slipped around my stomach. Holding me tight but just to keep himself steady from behind. “Yes,” he said in a raspy voice, still clearly in pain. I couldn’t turn my head, I’d be too close to his face. He groaned a bit in pain but still managed to keep his posture strong and himself looking composed. Bellamy pulled me in closer to him and that got a bit of a reaction from Murphy. 

“Fuck you both,” he said as he stormed off. Everyone else decided to leave us alone, I was going to Bellamy back to medic. There was a zero percent chance he was let out yet. 

He stopped me from walking, his tight and bloody shirt doing him every bit of justice. His hands took control so easily, “Why’d you do it,” I asked. 

His fingers traced along my neck, “Save you? Or help you?”

“Both,” I spoke breathlessly. His eyes were fixated on my lips and I wondered if Abby gave him painkillers or something for this type of behavior. 

Bellamy stared down at me, tension felt like it was rising, and the heat was radiating off our bodies. He kept one hand on my waist, holding me. His right hand pulled my hair to the side he leaned in, “because we both know I could treat you better,” he whispered into my ear.

[tragedybunny]

Something Like Love - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion has failed to seduce you, but even so, a bond has begun to grow between the two of you. It all comes to a head when Astarion almost loses you.

You infuriated Astarion. At first it was because stopping to help every person you happened upon was delaying dealing with his problems. Now that you had been traveling together for some time, not only were these little side adventures a delay, but you didn’t seem to be careful about how much they took out of you and how tired they left you. Even your other companions didn’t seem to care, letting you agree to solve every problem that you came upon and even adding to the pile.

But not him. Astarion was always right there at your side with a glare and a snapping refusal, which you’d usually brush off, but at least he tried. The rest of them just smiled and nodded, without noticing the circles under your eyes, or how slow you moved some mornings, or how thin you’d gotten. Protector wasn’t a position he normally found himself in, but you were different, you were kind to him, without expecting anything in return, as far as he could tell anyway. The two of you hadn’t even slept together, not for lack of trying on his part. The couple times he’d tried you firmly refused, and yet somehow you stayed kind to him, even still offering him your blood. In fact you didn’t seem to want anyone in camp. That was also exasperating. How could he expect your continued kindness, and protection which he desperately needed, without repayment? And what was he better at than sex?

So he resolved he’d give you whatever small gestures he could. Whenever you tore an item of clothing, he’d mend it at first chance. When the group made camp for the night, he always made sure your tent was up first, in whatever spot you wanted, and helped you pack when it was time to move on. Every battle, he stood at the backline with you while you cast spells, aiming arrows at anyone who got too close to you, his first priority keeping you safe. And he still tried to keep you from overextending yourself, despite no one ever listening to him. Which had led to the shouting match with Halsin earlier. Well it wasn’t really a shouting match, the Druid had remained frustratingly placid in the face of Astarion’s blustering. He’d already been vocally unhappy about looking for this Thaniel or whatever, but you’d found him, and still Halsin asked more. “We need to worry about Thorm, we don’t have time to keep bothering with this!”

“Curing the land could help break Thorm’s hold. I know you all don’t owe it to me.” Gods why did he ask like that, all humble and dissembling. You would cave to that for sure,

“You’re right, we don’t.”

“But…”

“Hells, can’t you see how much all of this is taking out of her!” Astarion had exploded, voice loud enough that some of your other companions jumped.

“It’s fine Astarion,” you’d gently placed a hand on his arm, “let’s finish this.”

With a frustrated growl, he’d yanked his arm away, regretting the hurt on your face. “Fine.”

That all led to this moment, you’d fended off the creatures summoned by the corrupted spirit, and Astarion watches as you calmly approach it. Speaking softly, your words soothe it, and he could see it starting to trust you. As always, you amaze him with your ability to solve things with your words, but he feels a twinge of something else, a want for something like those kind words that fell from your lips so easily. The spirit vanishes and Astarion finally feels a bit of relief it seems over. That is until your knees give way and you collapse to the jagged paving stones beneath you.

He's at your side instantly, a scream tearing itself from his throat. “Somebody fucking help her.”

Shadowheart js the first to respond, hands peeling away the light armor you wear, revealing gashes left by one of those shadow creatures that had gotten close. Teeth bite down into his lip to hold back a sob, he hadn’t even noticed, he’d failed the one duty he had. That ire finds a new target easy enough though, as Halsin attempts to join Shadowheart in tending to you. He’s barely started to kneel next to you when Astarion lunges, hissing and fangs flashing. “No you stay the fuck away from her, this is your fault!” For a second his face falls with guilt, but Astarion is in no state for empathy, all blame now on the Druid in his mind.

Hands fight to grab hold of him, to get close enough to tear his thick throat out. A pair of strong arms wraps around his waist, pulling him back from his murderous goal. “Easy Fangs, she’ll be alright,” Karlach tries to reassure him.

He struggles against her iron hold, still flinging curses and furious words. “That’s not the point, this shouldn’t have happened. But no one wanted to listen to me, none of you selfish idiots care when you’re asking too much!”

That was it, they’d all turn on him now, especially without you aware enough to defend him. To his surprise, Karlach just holds him slightly tighter, and keeps whispering that it was going to be fine. Wyll comes over to lay a hand on his shoulder, face stoic. "Shadowheart has this.”

At least Halsin has stepped back, expression troubled. Good, let him suffer. A spell glows in Shadowheart’s hands, suturing back together your skin, and your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, for a moment before closing again. Karlach wisely releases him, leaving him free to hover over you and ward off Halsin as he takes a hesitant step toward you. He’d be damned if anyone else was carrying you, the lot of them were untrustworthy. Reverently, he leans down, taking you in his arms, and lifting you from the ground. Gods, you were so small, there was almost nothing to you. How did you seem so imposing most of the time?

Silently, the group makes it’s way back to camp, Astarion holding tightly to you the whole way. When they reach the cluster of tents, he goes straight to yours to lay you down gently in your blankets. Turning back to the rest of the party he snarls in their direction. "All of you better stay the hells out of this tent until she's properly healed," he snaps the tent flap shut and wishes he had a door to slam on their faces.

Sitting down next to you, he pulls your hand into his and tried to forget about the stinging in his eyes. "You're going to be alright Darling. You have to be."

For hours he sits there, hand holding yours, waiting, watching your chest rise and fall, the reassurance he hadn’t lost you. Losing you, he can’t even fathom it. His protector, companion, he'd even go so far as to say friend. Even if you didn't notice how he was always at your side whenever you stayed up to launder your clothes, or how you never took a turn to cook alone, or how he was always walking right next to you on the road.

You sigh in your sleep and he feels a tug in that place that sometimes wonders if you could be more than friends. Which was stupid, you hadn't even wanted sex with him. Besides, what you already gave him was more than he deserved considering what he had been planning after sleeping with you.

Finally, exhausted, he drifts into meditation, still holding onto you, until your sleep heavy voice pulls him out of it. "Astarion?"

His eyes are wide immediately and without a second thought, he throws himself into your arms, nuzzling into your neck. "You're awake." Then he starts crying like an idiot; ugly, undignified sobs against your skin. "I was worried," he tries to explain leaping on you and his ridiculous tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you." You put your arms around him, accepting him without question, like always.

"You silly, silly girl, you were the one that almost died. Don't apologize to me." He's trying desperately to stop bawling uncontrollably.

"I know, but I don't like to see you upset." Ever so lightly, he can feel your hand brushing through his hair.

"Why," he's managed to get himself somewhat under control, but doesn't move from where you've let him lay. "Why are you like this? Always giving, even when it's too much for you?"

You hesitate for a moment. "Because I care about you."

"You do," he asks, unwilling to let himself believe what he's heard.

"Well, I care about everyone," of course he should've realized, "but I care about you a very great deal, Astarion."

Astarion freezes, the words leaving warmth in that secret place inside that he's been trying to keep from himself and you. "I don't understand."

"I see you. I see how hard you try and how far you've come, and how much you try to do for me." There's a smile in your voice and impossibly he thinks it has something to do with him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" His hand searches yours out and your fingers interwine.

"I didn't think you were ready to hear it. But today it was almost too late to tell you." You've placed both of your hands over your chest and he can feel your heartbeat.

"I…I don't know how I feel." Inwardly, he quails, worried that will drive you. "But this is nice."

"It's alright Astarion, there's no rush to this." Impulsively, he leans up to leave a feather light kiss on your cheek, grateful for you in ways he can't understand.

[lanadelnegan]

Tattoo - part 2 (final)

Teacher!Negan x F!Reader

Summary: After your art teacher gives you a tattoo that will always remind you of him, he wants a matching one. But he wants you to give it to him.. while you "give it to him."

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap, p in v, blowjob, teacher-student relationship, giving Negan a tattoo while you ride him, (if teacher-student relationships and/or age-gaps are not your thing, please do not read.)

Part one here

Finally posting this after a century! Sorry it took so long. xx

“Are you insane?!” I stood with the tattoo gun in my hand, mouth dropped open as I watched him get comfortable on the leather couch. He sat shirtless with his legs spread perfectly apart.

“Probably.” He grinned, flashing his pretty teeth and deeply ingrained dimples that I've become obsessed with over the years.

“Seriously.. Negan.. I’ve never tattooed someone before, obviously, and-“

His head fell to the side as if he didn't want to hear my excuses. “You’ve taken my art class four times. More than any other student at that damn school. Did you learn anything, or were you too busy fantasizing about the teacher?" He smirked.

"... I didn't learn how to give someone a tattoo."

"No different than drawing, baby."

"I can barely do that." I shrugged. "Why did you even pass me?"

Negan let out a chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch for a moment. "I think we both know the answer to that." We both fell silent as I looked unsure about what he was asking me to do.

“I’ll start it. Would that make you feel better?” He asked. I nodded, knowing there’s no way I could do this by myself.

“Hand me that pen over there?” He nodded towards his desk. I grabbed a purple outline pen to give him and he took the cap off with his teeth before easily drawing the most perfect baseball bat I've ever seen on his chest right about his left nipple. He tossed the pen aside and started the tattoo gun, bringing it close to his chest.

“Stop.” I blurted. “You don’t have to do this.”

Negan scrunched his brows at me. “I don’t do anything I don’t wanna do, sweetheart.” He said before carving a small line over the purple outline on his skin, not flinching an ounce. He stopped after making a small mark on his skin, then handed me the tattoo gun while patting his lap for me to sit.

He can’t seriously want me to sit in his lap while I permanently mark his body.

“Take your clothes off first, baby. Give me something to look at while we do this.”

I sat the tattoo gun to the side before slowly undressing for him until I was completely bare and cold, shivering in front of him.

“Mm, so fucking beautiful.” He praised, seeing my perky nipples on display for him. I noticed the straining bulge in his pants before I even sat down. I straddled him carefully and settled into his lap while facing him, cautiously holding the tattoo gun in my hand.

“You got this, darlin’.” He encouraged me, probably because I looked like I could faint any second. Sitting in my hot teacher's lap and tattooing his chest wasn’t something I thought I'd ever do.

“What if-“ I started but he cut me off.

“I don’t care.” He said in almost a whisper. “You could draw little hearts and fuckin' butterflies all over me, and I wouldn’t care as long as you’re hovering that sweet pussy over me. The tat? Is the last thing on my mind right now, doll.”

With that, I brought it to his skin and began making a line before I could talk to myself out of it. I felt Negan’s eyes burning into me, and his face was close enough to mine for me to smell the mint and tobacco on his mouth. Negan let out a breath that resembled a moan when the needle tore through his flesh.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, continuing my surprisingly impressive line.

"No." His voice was hoarse and raspy. "Feels fucking good."

I felt the bulge in his pants grow bigger underneath me and wanted to grind against him but couldn't move without possibly messing up. Negan watched me intensely before I felt his hand drift down to my center. I shivered when he ran a finger through my wet slit and saw him smirk out of the corner of my eye.

"Negan. I need to be still. I'm not messing this up."

"Then be still, darlin'. Don't mind me." I heard the zipper of his pants and glanced at him, giving him a silent warning that whatever he was about to do wasn't a good idea.

Negan grabbed my wrist gently and I pulled my hand away from his chest as he lifted my hips slightly and guided me over his length. I sat down completely, taking him so deep that it hurt.

"Negan.." I moaned, and he moaned with me, keeping us still and not moving while his cock was all the way inside me.

"Finish what you started, baby." He said, gesturing to the tattoo gun still in my hand. Hesitantly I started again, going slower this time. I felt his cock twitch inside me when the needle hit his skin, and almost whimpered at how full he made me feel, pressing tightly into my walls.

"You never answered my question, doll."

"Hm?" I asked, focusing on the tattoo and trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in my cunt.

"Did you learn anything in my class?"

I smiled for a moment, thinking of a clever answer. "Of course. I learned that.. I wanted you. Safe to say I did more fantasizing than listening to you yap about art, although listening to your deep voice did help with the fantasies." I giggled.

"Yeah?" He asked, tightening his grip on my hips as he fought the urge to thrust his hips upwards. "What exactly did you fantasize about, doll?"

"So much. But.. my favorite was thinking of you bending me over your desk. Or sucking your cock underneath your desk while others were around and had no idea."

"Fuuck." Negan breathed out heavily as he rested his head back against the couch. "Keep going, baby. I want to hear more."

"I would always stare at the front of your pants."

"I noticed." He chuckled.

"And I'd imagine what it looked like. How big you were."

"Yeah? What do you think? Was it what you imagined?"

"Bigger." I said truthfully, getting close to being finished with the tattoo.

"Sweetheart, I need you to hurry the fuck up and finish. My dick is gonna fucking explode if I don't move soon."

"Already done." I pulled the gun back and smiled, admiring my work and being pleasantly surprised. "Take a look."

Negan ripped the gun out of my hand and tossed it on the floor. "Later. Bounce on my fuckin' dick, now." He said desperately as he adjusted himself lower on the couch.

I happily obeyed him, placing my hands on his shoulders, being careful not to touch his reddening pecs. It felt so good to finally move up and down on his cock, so I dropped my head back and rode him fast and hard while my tits bounced in his face.

Negan leaned forward and took my nipple into his mouth, slurping around it and groaning as I fucked him. I screamed out, knowing we were the only ones there and I could be as loud as I wanted.

"Fuuuck, baby." He said breathlessly, leaning back again and looking up at me. "You look so fuckin' pretty with my dick inside you." His thumb dug into my hips, brushing against my fresh tattoo that now matched his own.

"Negan! I'm gonna cum!" I cried out, letting my orgasm rip through me while my legs shook and collapsed until I sank all the way down on him again, not able to hold myself up.

"Goddamn! Look at the mess you made all over me." He said proudly and I looked down between us, seeing the pool of wetness where our bodies were connected.

"Sorry.." I said, blushing.

He hummed, looking up at you. "I don't believe you. Why don't you get on your knees and clean up your mess? Show daddy how sorry you are?"

He kissed me before I climbed off his lap and onto my knees in the floor, settling between his spread legs. His cock stood tall between his legs and I finally got a chance to admire it. Wrapping my hand around it, I stroked him slowly, studying every vein in his impressive length. I imagined the sight of this for so long, and I wanted to enjoy it.

Pushing his hard cock away, I dipped my head between his crotch and sucked one of his large balls into my mouth, moaning around it. Negan's leg twitched at the sudden sensitivity as he gently wrapped his hand in my hair.

"Shit, baby. Been awhile since someone's had my balls in their mouth. Forgot how - oh, fuck - how good it feels."

I gave the other one some attention before finally licking up his shaft until I reached the tip, wrapping my mouth firmly around his thick head. He tasted like a mix of my pussy and his precum and it was the most heavenly thing I had ever experienced. I savored it as I took him as far as I could in the back of my throat, gagging slightly before pulling back. I continued this for awhile, taking turns sucking and stroking him until my mouth was dripping with spit and his dick was soaked.

"Ohhh fuck, baby, you ready for my cum?" He said quickly, guiding my head back to his cock. He let out a loud, strained groan as I felt him empty himself down my throat. I moaned around him, not pulling away until every drop was swallowed.

Negan leaned down, wrapping his hand around my throat and pulling me towards him for a kiss. I slipped my tongue in his mouth, letting him taste us and his eyes fluttered shut.

"I should have failed you." He signed when he finally broke away from the kiss.

"What? Why?"

"Art won't be the same without you. I dunno if I want to teach anymore now that you're graduating."

"Don't be silly. You've always loved art."

Negan chuckled, pulling me into his lap again. "No.. I've always loved you."

Tag list: (let me know if you wanted to be added to my future negan fic tag list)

@loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor

[starrystevie]

18+ | explicit sex & smoking | read here on ao3

it's 1996 when steve's world gets turned upside down again.

or, well, technically it's a few minutes into '97 when everything changes. he's at a new years party that his ex timothy is hosting and everyone is still hooting and hollering as they ring it in, pressing sloppy kisses to cheeks and lips with arms hooked around necks.

steve doesn't get kissed. not because people aren't eyeing him with a smirk and mischief and open arms of their own. no, he doesn't let himself get kissed because something feels... off about the night. the energy is weird, buzzing through his skin like electricity, keeping him on edge in a way he hasn't been since he left hawkins for boston in the fist place.

it isn't long until he figures out why.

timmy is walking up to him with his hands on some guy's shoulders, pushing him backwards with a wide smile like he's trying to convince him of something. the guy is about his height, short cropped dark hair and a leather jacket, the sight of his back alone getting steve excited. timmy always did know his type to a t.

"hey!" timmy yells over the music as he catches steve's eye. "got someone for you to meet."

once the guy turns around, the smiles on both steve and the mystery guy's faces fall before their minds catch up with them and plaster them back together. even with the short cropped hair, even with the piercing in his eyebrow, even with the stubble spreading over his defined jaw, steve would know that face, that heartbeat, anywhere.

"steve, i wanted to introduce you to someone. jamie, this is steve, you know... the guy i was telling you about?"

timmy's trying to be helpful, not even attempting to be subtle as he pushes the two closer together with a wide grin. steve's going on autopilot, reaching out a hand to grab the one outstretched towards him, but his brain is going a million miles a minute.

"nice to meet you, steve," eddie, or... jamie, says, palm pressed tightly against his own.

steve can't say anything, focusing too much on the warmth on his palm and the way his deep voice shakes through him like thunder and the way he feels like he's 19 again with a stuttering heart.

"what are-" he starts.

eddie shakes his head and tugs on steve's hand. "not here. come on."

they end up in a secluded corner, close enough that steve can smell smoke and leather polish and the sharp bite of his cologne. close enough that he can see the lines starting to appear on the corners of eddie's eyes, the stray grey hairs popping up in his beard, the questions swirling behind his eyes.

"eddie."

"jamie," is all he says back, not even bothering to look away from steve's eyes. "it's jamie now."

they both sigh like they don't know where to start because they don't. steve grapples with all the questions in his mind before settling on one. the one that tore through him late at night. the one that stayed on the tip of his tongue anytime he heard a van backfire or metallica.

"where did you go?" he knows it sounds like an accusation because it is. he doesn't let himself feel bad when eddie (jamie) flinches.

"feds," he replies easily, sneaking a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it between his lips. he tilts his head back to light it away from steve's face, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. "once i got better, they scooped me up and brought me to boston. new name, new hairstyle, new life. at least they let me choose my name so i didn't get stuck with some thing awful."

steve snorts. "so you ended up with 'jamie' how?"

"middle name's james. it just made sense." he says it with a shrug and puffs at his cigarette again.

they look at each other for a moment. steve watches his tongue flit out of his mouth to wet his lips, watches the overhead lights glint off the metal of a surprise tongue piercing, watches his throat swallow around nothing but spit.

he can see, feel, eddie doing the same. he hams it up, pulls his lip between his teeth and makes it a show, looks back up at eddie from under his lashes. takes in a deep breath when eddie inches closer to him until their hips are bumping and steve plucks the cigarette out of his lips for a puff of his own.

he's 19 again, in love or like or lust with a boy in a leather jacket that has the world against him. he's 19 again, working a hand over himself to thoughts of his crush who up and vanished without so much as a goodbye. he's 19 again, crying after he comes, wishing he could go back in time before he met curly hair and a battle vest.

"so how do you know tim?" eddie whispers like he has to be quiet even though the part is loud and no one could hear them if they tried.

"how do you know him?" steve asks back, blowing out smoke and putting the cigarette back between eddie's barely spread lips.

his eyes flick down to look at steve's still pursed lips from when he angled the smoke over his shoulder. "we used to fuck, once upon a time when i first got to boston."

steve hums like it's the answer he expected and maybe it is. "same here. dated for about a year."

eddies eyes grow wide and his hip bumps into steve's like it's a question in and of itself and maybe it is. "didn't know you swing that way, harrington."

"well, you don't really know anything about me then, do you? didn't back then either, munson."

his eyes goes even wider, something like fear and shame and comfort and hope swimming in them. "leonard. it's leonard now."

steve hums again, says 'jamie leonard' like he's feeling it out on his tongue. tasting it between his teeth. teaching his mouth how to form the words instead of what he really wants to say like 'eddie' or 'munson' or 'i'm still somehow in love with you no matter your name'.

"jamie leonard," he says again, breath hitting eddie's lips. he shivers when he sees his lips part a bit more like he wants to swallow the sound and air that steve gives him. "we have a lot to catch up on, don't we?"

steve's apartment isn't all that big, isn't exactly small either but it has everything he could possibly need. he has a living room that looks out over the harbor and a kitchen with all new appliances and eddie munson naked in his bedroom. you know, the essentials.

their clothes are all over the floor, eddie's motorcycle helmet flung somewhere in the vague direction of the armchair in the corner but the smack it makes when it hits the wall makes steve think there's probably a hole in the drywall.

but eddie's sucking on his cock, hands wrapped around his thighs as he takes him even deeper, eyes flicking up to meet steve's, beard scratchy as it rubs against his sensitive skin. he's never been blown by someone with a tongue piercing but he doesn't think he can ever go back now.

the last thing on his mind is wondering if there's a hole in the goddamn wall.

"oh fuck, yeah there you go. feels so goddamn good," steve breathes out as he feels the back of eddie's throat on his cockhead. he tangles a hand as best he can in his short dark hair to try and coax him even deeper. eddie hums at either the praise or the tug on his hair or the way it feels as he works his tongue over steve's cock and it makes him jolt unexpectedly.

if he could go back in time and tell his 19 year old self that eddie was alive, that he was okay and breathing and learning how to suck cock like a goddamn professional, he'd do it in a heartbeat. save himself a few years of pining and fly straight out to boston to see it for himself. he's sure robin would have preferred to not have to listen to his whining everyday about brown eyes and dark curls.

eddie brings a hand to cup his balls, finger teasingly pressing into steve's taint, bobbing his head eagerly like he wants him to come in his mouth, but steve has other plans. he tugs eddie off of his cock quickly, lines of thick spit falling between them and sticking to his chin before crowding him up against the pillows.

steve kisses like he's dying and eddie is survival. he kisses him like he is drowning and eddie is the shore that he's clawing his way towards. he kisses him like 19 year old steve could only dream about.

soon enough, steve's sliding into him with a groan that he lets eddie swallow from him. the headboard knocks heavily into the wall a few times making even more possible holes, but all steve can focus on is the heat around him, the way eddie's whines bounce off the walls of his too empty bedroom and cover him like a blanket.

he likes fucking this way. he likes being able to watch as someone's face contorts into pleasure, like to see eyes rolling back and mouths dropping open and sweat beading around their hairline. likes seeing eddie fall apart.

"steve, oh my god," eddie's voice is still deeper than he's used to as he moans so he angles his hips up more to hear it again, the low timbre snaking through his veins and leaving fire in its wake. "don't stop."

"i won't," he groans into eddie's open mouth. "wanted this for so long, for fucking 11 years, not giving you up yet."

it's a bit more open than steve normally is when he first fucks someone but this isn't just someone. this isn't fucking a stranger he picked up in a bar that had almost the right shade of brown eyes and patches on his jacket that are almost the right shape. this is eddie. his eddie. or well... jamie.

"fuck, i'm gonna date you so fucking hard, harrington. yeah, right there keep going, shit-"

he's babbling as steve works his hips faster, tangling their free hands together to press above their heads on a pillow, and it's everything steve could have asked for. hearing his name fall from the lips he's dreamed about for years, sharing the same air as they breath into one another.

he thought he was over it, thought he had moved on at least a little bit from a halfway stranger he knew in his teens, but with the way they're both looking straight into each other's eyes begging each other to see them, he thinks they might both be back in 1986.

"what do-" steve cuts himself off as he whimpers, close, so close to the finish line. "what do you want me to call you? is it jamie or-"

he's shaking his head on the pillow, leaning up to bite at steve's lips and pull it between his teeth. he looks serious and certain when he says, "no, that name's not for you, it's... i need-"

steve brings his hand down to work over his cock and revel in the way his eyes roll back until he can only see white. he hits something that makes his eyes fly back open and he gets to see his favorite shade of brown again.

"eddie," he whispers. leaning down quickly, steve presses a kiss to his ear before whispering his favorite name there too. "eddie, baby, come on. let me... come on, eddie."

it feels silly to be chanting a name of a ghost as intensely as he is. but he can see it crawl over eddie like it's bringing him back to life. like he isn't bones on the ground in an alternate dimension. like he isn't a plain headstone in a graveyard next to a forgotten trailer park. like he isn't playing pretend with a fake name and a fake life.

steve says eddie and it brings him home.

afterwards, they lay together in steve's probably too soft bed, tears drying on both of their cheeks as they catch up. as they tell each other secrets that their younger selves could never dare. as the piece together the lives they have and the lives they want to have and slot each other into the mix.

steve has a hand in eddie's hair, eddie has one trailing over steve's arm that's slung over his chest. he's always been a fan of cuddling after sex.

"y'know," eddie mutters, "tim's been trying to get me to meet his hot teacher friend for months now."

steve hums, presses a kiss to his temple. "and he's been trying to get me to meet his hot motorcycle tech for months, too."

there are a few holes in the walls from the headboard and eddie's helmet, but steve thinks that they can patch those up, too.

he's still jamie leonard to the outside world. he's still a guy who doesn't have much family other than a mysterious uncle in indiana and doesn't have many friends other than ex boyfriends. he still introduces himself with a handshake and says a fake name like it's real.

but when he gets home, when he crawls onto a couch that overlooks the harbor and has arms wrapped around him, he gets to be eddie munson once more. and with the ghost of a man in his arms, steve harrington feels more like himself than he ever thought he would.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Ask and ye shall receive! Double update today because that last part was so short and Vox'less.

He's so melodramatic. Vox and Alastor have their pity party tantrums in common for suuuuure.

More Than Anything Part 2.5 VOX POV [Vox x Reader]

Part 1

Part 2

More Than Anything Part 2.5 VOX POV [Vox x Reader]

To say Vox was furious would be an understatement. Much like you, his emotions ran HIGH. And dear god were they going haywire after he came to.

When Valentino finally came into his room after hearing so much crashing and screaming all the way from the large break room exclusively made for the Vee's, the bedroom was a wreck. Broken screens and miscellaneous things were thrown everywhere. Vox had even tossed a lamp through one of the large wall windows that overlooked the city. Valentino peered curiously down to see a crowd taking pictures of some poor sinner who had been squashed by the offending piece of furniture.

Vox was trembling with anger and heartache as Valentino looked over him with an unreadable expression. A sadistic part of Valentino was actually enjoying Vox's suffering. The moth still wasn't quite over Vox bringing their on-and-off situationship to an official end. Valentino didn't see what the big deal about you was and it annoyed him that Vox was "pursuing something real" as if he wasn't enough. It wasn't his fault Vox was so damn petty!

Valentino still liked to hope that maybe your relationship would end and things could go back to how they were before, but without Vox bitching about Valentino fucking Angel as much. That being said, he also knew he should probably get Vox calm before he caused any more of a scene that could be noticed by the public.

He opened his mouth to say something, only to snap it shut with an unimpressed frown as Vox screamed in rage and tried to flip the bed. He was such a man-child sometimes.

"THAT O̷̡̧̅͆L̷̻̒̇D̸̞̆-̶̲̓Ţ̵̧́̽I̷̝͐̈M̵͉̀̈E̸̩̗̿Y̸̜̪̑͐ NO GOOD SON OF A F̸̄ͅU̵̲͒C̴͓͠Ḵ̷̇I̸̤͉͑̅Ṅ̶͚͊G̸̣̅ ̷͔͋̄B̴͖̍̚Î̵̖T̸͕̆Ċ̴̪Ḧ̷̖́, "He growled. "Why couldn't Alastor just keep his stupid tinny voice s̴̤̿͒h̴̳̔́ͅǔ̷͙̣t̷̩͍́́?̶̰̐!̶̳̟́"

Valentino rolled his eyes, pulling out his lighter and blowing out a plume of smoke. He knew it didn't actually work on Vox, but it helped calm his own nerves. "Oh, come now cabrón. You act like you didn't do this to yourself."

"Oh go choke to double death on a horse cock," Vox spat as his claws ripped into something else. The last thing he needed was Valentino rubbing salt in the wound. Vox knew this was his fault. He knew he'd fucked up and crossed a line. But it was easier to blame Alastor for spilling the secret. It was easier to blame him, rather than look at the cold hard truth that in his attempts to protect you, he may have lost you for good.

He'd called you twenty times and had sent so many texts that the security system he'd installed on your phone flagged him as spam. Needless to say, he hacked into they system and tore the firewalls he'd designed to shreds. The only thing that kept him from rebooting for the fifth time in the past hour was the distant feeling of your soul. He felt where you were and felt that you were safe. But he could also feel your pain. The soul bound by his own could feel the way it tore itself into pieces as you burned through the angst that he'd caused.

"Don't get snippy with me," Valentino scoffed. He crossed the room and used his pipe to lift Vox's face. Vox smacked the damn thing away from him with a snarl, and Valentino simply blew a puff of smoke against his screen. "It's not my fault that your little cunt of a plaything is so sensitive. You're the one who asked for this, baby."

Vox flinched hard as Valentino's hands trailed down his chest. His heart rate picked up for another reason as the pink haze swirled between them. Sometimes the way Valentino manipulated him every which way so easily made Vox wonder if he truly was immune to the aphrodisiac of Valentino's spells.

"Isn't it about time you forget that little bitch and come crawling back?" Valentino purred, his nails scratching down Vox's chest and drawing blood. He lowered his face to the side of Vox's head and smirked. "Come back to me, luciérnaga~"

Vox gasped, his arms shooting out and shoving Valentino away from him. Valentino squawked in outrage as Vox felt an unpleasant hum of anxious energy thrumming through his veins. He felt a panic attack approaching rapidly and retreated into one of the broken cameras that still had an electrical charge. He reappeared in his monitor room and fell to his knees. He lurched as he fought the urge to vomit and grit his teeth as dead pixels filled his screen through the painful glitches.

Everything was too much. It was too damn much.

You. Valentino. Alastor. His own damn hubris. It was too much. He sent out a fresh wave of desperate pleas to your phone's inbox as he spiraled into self-doubt and loathing. He needed you back. You were the one that showed him a brighter life. One that wasn't bound to the poisonous desire of Valentino. A life where he felt seen for who he really was. You didn't see him as a figurehead of evil intent and merciless charisma like everyone else. You didn't see his power, you knew his weakness. And you showed him that he could be loved for it, not just in spite of it.

The week passes by in a blur. Valentino didn't mention the way Vox rejected him and both of the Vee's tried to force Vox to get his shit together. They even held him down and locked him in a room without cameras when he tried to leave the tower to go after you. The image of the trio was too precious for either Vee to let him destroy it in an emotional rampage.

They'd given him a shit old phone to keep obsessively trying to get ahold of you through, but besides that, he was practically a prisoner to his own fuck ups.

"I̵̥͗'̴͇͈̏͗ṃ̵͎̇͠ ̷̘̐͝s̸̖̈̽ȏ̷̼̞r̴̛̯̈ȑ̸̩͘ỹ̷̪," Vox sobbed as he held the phone to his head in a broken prayer. His voice and screen hadn't been clear for the past day. He was at his wit's end and wondered how he ever thought hell was hell before now. This was the suffering all the dumbasses back on earth expected for the forsaken. Hell before now was a piece of cake compared to what he felt now.

He was alone and sinking further into his own despair. And the only thing that'd be able to pull him out was you.

[ssahotchnerr]

GIRL 👏🏻 DAD 👏🏻 AARON 👏🏻 learning how to do his wife’s hair so he can do baby girls hair when she’s grown

uncharted territory

YOU'RE 👏🏻 SO 👏🏻 RIGHT 👏🏻 cw; girl dad!aaron, fem!reader, some small suggestiveness, fluff <3

"can i braid your hair?"

you looked at aaron as your book dropped onto your lap, both a bit bewildered and astonished, "can you what?"

"braid your hair." the expression adorned on his face was almost troubled as he approached you, and rather shyly at that, actually.

"that's what i thought you said." your eyebrow quirked, displaying a caring and soft confusion. "why?"

"jus' something penelope said today, it made me realize that i don't know how to do hair. never had the need to learn with jack." the grumpiness on his face didn't falter, a small huff escaping him. "i know she doesn't have much of it now, but i don't want to be one of those dads who attempt to do their daughter's hair, it's a phenomenal disaster, and it looked better off before i even touched it. i refuse to send her off somewhere someday looking like she went through a windstorm."

"aaron, honey, i don't think you're capable of anything too disastrous." you teased gently, but with full reassurance.

he almost smiled, the ends of his lips tugging upwards, but evidently he wasn't fully convinced. "so can i? i need the practice, desperately."

"of course," you nodded, scooting towards the center of the bed and sitting cross-legged, aaron seated behind you.

once situated, he took your hair gingerly into his hands, "how do i..."

"you're going to want to separate it into three sections," you started, pausing to let him do so. "kinda gather it like a ponytail to get started."

"okay, that i've done before."

"yeah, you're good at that." you rolled your eyes, a faint blush tinting your cheeks and you could easily picture the smirk that was definitely plastered on aaron's face. "you good?"

"i think so."

"take the right side, and cross it over the middle section." you instructed, again giving him a small window of time to weave your hair gently. "then do the same on the left, the right section should have switched places with the middle."

"mhm." aaron hummed gently in confirmation, biting down softly onto his lip in concentration, crossing the left section over the now center.

"and just repeat down, alternating as you just did."

"that's it?"

"that's literally it."

aaron repeated the cycle, braiding with ease. "and i'm not hurting you? am i pulling-"

"no no no, you're completely fine." you reached a bit behind, your hand finding his knee and giving it a comforting squeeze. "keep going."

although it was a simple braid, his fingers nearly got tangled a few times, due to the size of said fingers and the limited, slightly tight space that came along with braiding. he also tugged your head back and forth a small amount, but you followed the direction of his gentle pulls. as he worked silently, your heart could only swell at his genuine concern and want to learn - just for your little girl.

once he reached the end of your braid, you tore off the hair tie that was conveniently around your wrist. "secure with this."

aaron was quick learner in nature; he watched you intently as you pulled your braid over your shoulder to inspect it quickly. it was a bit loose, a tad crooked, but the gist of it was there - almost perfect.

you peered behind at him, thoroughly impressed. "not bad."

"really?" aaron asked surprisingly, but with an utterly pleased expression.

"but don't get too cocky," you narrowed your eyebrows playfully, swiveling to face him. "this is the easy one to master. there's french braids, dutch, fishtail. one day she'll want one braid, maybe two the next. trust me, it's bound to get way more complicated than this."

the proud gleam in his eyes faded a bit as his face blanched, pulling into a pained expression, deadpanning. "you're kidding."

"but don't worry, we have plenty of time."

[black-aurora-nora]

Give In | Platonic!Yandere!Hawks x Teen!Reader

This had to be the worst day of your life.

You didn't think anything would top being kidnapped, but here you were sunken into the couch of your 'home' weighed down by your own dejection.

Your entire body was cold.

Wet, muddied clothes clung to your body and there was an obvious trail coming from the door to the couch.

Everything was numb.

Your fingertips, your toes, your mind.

The sound of the door opening paused your inner monologue.

"Man, that rain is no joke today! I'm soaked!" Hawks' voice came from the front door, but you didn't bother looking at him.

He strolled over to you after taking his shoes off, but again you paid him no mind. You couldn't bear the sight of him.

He stilled for a moment, looking you over while a frown overtook his features, "(Y/N), my sweet little sister, did you go outside?" His voice was so soft yet unbearably sarcastic. He knew the answer.

He hummed unhappily when he received no reply, "You're gonna get sick if you sit in those wet clothes any longer. I'll go draw you a bat-"

"Yeah, I hope I get so sick that I die." You spat. But even that held no real emotion behind it. You couldn't even bring yourself to be angry at him.

You'd been angry at first.

You'd spent so long trying to figure out an escape plan, only to find the door unlocked when you didn't find a key. Then you anxiously ran out into the rain, screaming for help and looking for any other houses or even streets.

For miles, you ran.

For miles, you hoped and prayed that today was the day you'd be free again.

But as if your prayers were nothing but a joke, you found a tall wall at the end of your journey and it suddenly made sense why the door was left unlocked.

The image of Keigo laughing at you was the first thing that flashed in your mind and you felt something snap in your psyche.

You grabbed at the muddied ground, throwing clumps of mud and grass into the wall as if it were mocking you. Curses of Keigo's name left your mouth with fiery breaths and when the clumps of mud weren't enough, you hit and clawed at the walls.

It hadn't mattered that your fingers were bleeding or that a few nails were gone.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Nothing mattered except for Keigo.

"Okay, grumpy, you still have to take a bath."

You clenched your fists and took a deep breath, "Why didn't you tell me about the wall?"

Keigo stopped, turning back towards you. He had a cocky glint in his eyes, "Did you really think I was gonna let you go that easily? Or that someone wouldn’t find you and return you?”

"Why..." You trailed off, "Why did you let me think that I had a chance? I... I ran for miles... thinking I was free..."

A sound of pity left Keigo and you wished you could slap him, "(Y/N), you're a smart kid. I'm your older, smarter brother." You wanted to scoff at his ego, "Why wouldn't I or the Heroes' Commission plan ahead?"

Why wouldn't they plan ahead?

You felt so stupid.

Of course everything had been planned.

Your prior kidnapping from your home.

Your shipment to Japan.

And your 'rescue' accomplished by Hawks himself.

It was so obvious now that all of that had been an orchestrated to get you into Keigo's possession.

You were a business plan.

Something to keep Keigo occupied from losing his sanity.

"Y-... You're all sick... you're all fucking sick!" Your chest hurt and you clawed at your heart with mangled fingers.

"(Y/N), focus on your breathing for me." Keigo told you, ignoring your spiraling. When you couldn't calm down, he stalked towards you, "(Y/N), I said focus! Slow your breathing."

Violent sobs tore your throat.

Everything had been taken from you just so you could play house with some hero.

Keigo cooed softly and closed the gap between you to hold you close and slide you down to the floor, telling you to slow your breathing.

He uttered praises to you when you finally listened and slowly but surely, your breathing was dissolved into quiet sobs and sniffles.

He stroked the top of your head before grabbing one of your hands to look at your fingers. He gave a small sigh when noticed how bloodied and swollen they were. They were probably riddled with fractures and would surely bruise.

“Maybe,” he spoke, “If you’d let go…this whole thing would be easier.”

“I… I’m gonna go take a bath now…” Your voice was hoarse, grated raw from your sobs and you stood on wobbly legs to make your way to the bathroom.

Keigo only smiled reassuringly and before you closed the door, he spoke one more time, “I love you so much, (Y/N). Please don’t forget that.”

But how could you?

[voxslays]

In the Elevator ~

Featuring >>> Vox x Reader; In which Vox calls reader to a meeting when suddenly the elevator breaks down, leaving the two of them alone together for the first time in seven years.

Warnings >>> Smut, AFAB! Reader, A lil angst

Seven years ago, you and Vox were best friends. Until he confessed his feelings for you. You were scared to admit your own feelings and ruin your friendship. Unfortunately, when you tried to (lightly) break it to him, he was distraught. Vox completely shut you out of his life. So it was a big surprise when he sent an email requesting to meet with you again. 

You enter the Vees tower. One of the receptionists walks up to you. They immediately recognize you. “Hi! What may I help you with?” You respond, saying you have to talk to Vox. The worker is surprised, but messages someone through their V-phone. Minutes later the receptionist leaves and there someone stands in the doorway of the entrance to the V tower, Vox. “Looks like you finally came to see me after all those years, hm?” He says. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” Your tone is filled with distaste, still angry about your falling out. “What is it you wanted to talk with me about?” You ask curiously. “Oh, I think it’s better we discuss it privately. Come with me.” He says, gesturing towards the elevator. You hesitate for a moment before deciding to follow him, entering the elevator with him. The elevator was reasonably big, with fancy railings, a skylight, and a giant window on the back wall of the lift. 

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here.” Vox says, turning to face you. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about some...rumors that have been going around about you. You know how people love to talk, right?” You sigh. There had been a couple dating rumors about you going around. Being an overlord in the spotlight was never easy, but it had only gotten harder since you and Vox ended your friendship. “I didn’t know you cared about such miniscule rumors.” Vox rolls his eyes. “Are they true? They better not be.” He asks, getting angrier.

“So what if they are!? Why do you care!?” You raise your voice. Suddenly Vox’s anger reaches its limit and the power goes out. The elevator comes to a halt, making screeching sounds. Vox’s eyes widen and he rushes to the control panel, frantically pressing buttons. The elevator lurches and shudders, the lights flickering on and off. Vox lets out a frustrated growl as he slams his fist against the control panel. “Great, just great…” He huffs. 

Vox turns to face you, his face red with frustration. “Now look at what’s happened! We’re trapped in this stupid elevator, and who knows when someone will come to rescue us. And it’s all your fault!” He shouts, taking a step closer to you. “My fault!? How is it my fault!? You were the one who called me here!” You yell back. “Well, if you hadn't come, none of this would have happened!” Vox argues back. “You’re always causing trouble for me, one way or another. And now, we’re trapped in this tiny space together! Just wonderful…!” Vox’s face slowly turns redder and redder as he speaks, his voice growing louder and more heated. He takes a step closer to you, towering over you with his tall figure. “You know what? I think this is karma. Karma for rejecting me all those years ago.” Vox huffs again, crossing his arms. 

You remember his face that day. It went from zero to sixty so quickly. “Look-! I didn’t mean to break your heart! I tried to break it easily!” You say anxiously. “Easy? You think breaking someone’s heart is easy? You tore mine out and stomped on it!” Vox’s face is inches away from yours now, his voice a low growl. He pauses, his eyes flicking down to your lips. “You know...I never even got to kiss you…” You can feel the tears forming in your eyes. “I just wanted to stay friends because I was scared! Okay!?” You shout. Vox’s expression softens for a moment, before hardening again. “Well, now it’s too late. Friends? We’re not even that...” His voice trails off as he leans in closer, his hands finding your waist.” You sigh, looking down at your feet. “I was scared of losing my best friend. Little did I know I’d lose you anyways.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek. Vox buffers, his expression conflicted. He hesitates, his hands tightening on your waist. “You...you really cared about me that much?” He asks quietly, his voice barely a whisper. His face is so close to yours, his warm breath fanning across your face. “I did.” Vox searches your face for any sign of insincerity, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on your sides. “You should have just told me...” He says quietly, his face inching even closer to yours. His lips hover over yours, his eyes flicking down to your mouth.

“I know.” You pause. “I'm sorry.” Vox lets out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he finally closes the distance between your lips. He kisses you softly, gently, as if trying to make up for all the lost time. His hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer to him. Vox parts his lips, deepening the kiss as he slides his hands up to your back, pressing your body against his. He kisses you with a fierce passion, all the unspoken words and pent up feelings finally pouring out.

Instantaneously, the elevator shudders again, and Vox breaks the kiss, pulling you into a tight embrace as he looks up at the ceiling. “Great...just great...” He mutters. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. ​​He loosens his grip on you, his hands returning to your waist. He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. “Um...that just...happened,” He laughs awkwardly, clearing his throat. “We should,” He pauses, searching your eyes, while his own shine with a glimmer of hope. “Talk about it later, once we’re out of here,” He says, looking up at the ceiling again. “Let’s just...try to keep each other company, okay? We don’t know how long it’ll take for them to rescue us,” He says, his hands squeezing your waist.

Vox sits down on the floor of the elevator, pulling you down onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck. “At least we have each other for now...” He murmurs, his voice quiet.” The elevator makes another screeching sound, causing you to jump slightly. “This elevator better not drop.” You say, your tone filled with anxiety. “Shut up and hold me,” Vox says, his arms tightening around you. He rests his head on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. After a moment, he speaks up again. His voice muffled as he sinks his face deeper into your shoulder, as far as his TV head can wedge itself into the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your thigh. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn't...you know,” He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“All the time.” Vox lets out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “I do too,” He admits quietly. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours in another soft kiss. He nuzzles his nose against yours, his eyes fluttering open. “Let’s,” He pauses again. “Pretend that we never fought,” He says softly. “That we’re still best friends...” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “That we’re in love,” Vox murmurs, his voice quiet.

“Okay.” You say, your voice almost a whisper. Vox lets out a content sigh, his arms tightening around you as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “Good,” He murmurs, his voice soft. He begins to trail kisses along your neck, his hands squeezing your thighs gently. He continues to kiss and nibble at your neck, his hands slowly sliding up your thighs. He pauses, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a silent question. “Is this...okay?” He asks softly, his voice barely a whisper. “Yes.” Vox smiles softly, his fingers slowly lifting your skirt up. He settles back into his previous position, his face buried in your neck once more. He starts to kiss and nibble at your skin, his hands gently spreading your legs apart.

Vox's hands slowly make their way up your thighs, his fingers gently caressing your skin. He pauses, his hand hovering over your panties. He looks up at you, his eyes questioning again. “May I...?” He asks softly, his voice trembling slightly with anticipation. You give him a gentle nod. Vox lets out a soft sigh of relief, his hand sliding into your panties. He gently caresses you, his fingers exploring your folds. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with lust. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, his fingers slowly slipping inside of you.

Vox begins to move his fingers inside of you, his thumb gently circling your clit. He continues to pepper your neck with soft kisses and gentle bites, his other hand gripping your hip. “Ngh!” You moan. He starts to pick up his pace, his fingers curling to hit that special spot inside of you. You cry out. Vox's heart skips a beat as he hears you cry out. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with love. “Shh, it's okay...I've got you...” He murmurs, his fingers never stopping their movements. 

Vox buries his face in your neck once more, his hot breath washing over your skin. He continues to touch you, his fingers moving in and out of you at a steady pace. He can feel you tensing up, your body getting closer and closer to the edge. “That's it, baby.” His fingers curve inside of you, his thumb flicking against your bundle of nerves. “Come for me.” He murmurs, his voice low and sultry. He grins as he feels you clenching around him, your body convulsing with pleasure. 

“Good girl,” Vox holds you close as you ride out your orgasm, his fingers gently caressing your inner walls. He places soft kisses along your jaw and neck, basking in the afterglow with you. After a few moments, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. Vox licks his fingers clean, savoring your taste. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. “Delicious.” He purrs, his hand sliding back under your skirt. He positions himself between your legs, his hard length pressing against your entrance. “Darling. I need you.” He unzips his pants. 

Vox slowly pushes into you, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels your warmth enveloping him. He starts to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans. Vox increases his pace, his hips snapping against yours. He hooks your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper. He breaks the kiss, panting softly as he looks down at you. Vox's eyes roll back in pleasure as he feels your walls clenching around him. He leans down, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “You feel so good.” He growls, his hand snaking between your bodies to rub your sensitive bud. 

Your eyes roll back as whimper. Vox's fingers press firmly against your clit, rubbing quick circles around it as he continues to pound into you. Your body tenses, your legs shaking as you approach your climax. Vox bites his lip, trying to hold back his own orgasm as he focuses on making you come first. “Come with me, darling.” His fingers stop moving as he feels you clenching around him, your body tensing up as you cry out. Vox's grip on your thigh tightens as he slams into you one final time, finding his release deep inside of you. 

Vox collapses on top of you, his face buried in your neck. He takes a few deep breaths, his body shuddering as the last waves of his own release wash over him. He slowly lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he grins mischievously. “I think...” ​​Vox pulls out of you, his hand gently caressing your stomach. “We need to do that again.” He says, his eyes twinkling with desire. He sits back on his haunches, admiring his handiwork. He reaches out, gently caressing your reddened folds as you whine. Vox smiles to himself, knowing he has you right where he wants you. His fingers working your clit in tight circles. He suddenly flips you over onto your hands and knees. “Time to change positions.”

He lines himself up with your entrance again and pushes in slowly, a low moan escaping his lips. His hands grip your hips tightly as he begins to thrust in and out, his pace quickening with each movement. He reaches one hand around to play with your front, his fingers toying with your sensitive nub. Vox's breathing grows heavier as he pounds into you from behind. His fingers continue to rub your swollen bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body. You let out a whimper. He grunts with each thrust, his voice growing louder as he approaches his peak. “You're so close.”

Vox's voice drips with satisfaction as he feels you tense and writhe beneath him, your body convulsing with pleasure. He grips your hips even tighter as he continues to thrust, his own voice growing louder as he nears his own peak. “That's it, baby. Come for me.” ​​Vox's voice is hoarse as he grunts one final time, burying his screen in your shoulder as he finds his own release. His entire body shudders as he spills into you, his arms wrapping around you to keep you close. “God, that was good.”

After a few moments, Vox slowly pulls out of you, his release trickling down your thighs. He turns you over onto your back, hovering over you with a satisfied grin. He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. When he pulls back, he smirks. 

At that moment, the power comes back on. Vox's eyes widen as the elevator comes back to life, the lights flickering on. He quickly moves off of you, quickly getting dressed and straightening his clothes. You do the same. He extends a hand to help you up, his face a mask of cool composure despite the intimate act you just shared. Suddenly, the elevator doors open to reveal a very annoyed Velvette…and Valentino. 

Vox greets Velvette and Valentino with a charming smile, as if he hadn't just been ravishing you mere moments ago. “Ah, there you two are. We were just...discussing business.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a show of casual familiarity. Velvette raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and Vox with suspicion. Valentino seems oblivious, focused on his phone. Vox tightens his grip on your shoulder as the elevator goes up a floor, his fingers digging in slightly as a warning to keep quiet. He turns to you with his signature cocky grin as the elevator stops. “Until next time.” Vox winks at you as he gets off.

A/N: This is my longest post ever. It took up a whole four pages on google docs lol.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Nena II

Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader

Summary: Just another day at your sister's work

You giggled as Asisat lifted from her shoulders and swung you around. Your tummy went all fluttery in a good way as she kept going before releasing you to stumble about.

She caught you when you lost your footing, putting you upright again and smothering a laugh when you fell right back onto the floor.

"Again?" She asked.

You got up immediately, nodding. "Uh-huh!"

"I think we should take a break," Sandra said as she approached," Or the little miss might throw up her breakfast."

"Ingrid's Mapi made pancakes!" You said excitedly," And Ingrid let me have syrup with it!"

"Wow!" Sandra said to you before turning to Asisat," It'll be a pain to clean if she pukes that all up and then you'll have to explain to Ingrid why we've got her kid sister throwing up her food."

"Alright." Asisat ruffled your hair. "Maybe later then."

"Later!" You agreed before allowing Sandra to take your hand and lead you to a shady area.

You had fallen into an easy routine in the past few weeks you've spent in Barcelona. Ingrid and her Mapi would get you ready for the day where one of their teammates (usually Frido or Keira) would take you out onto the field where you would sit in the shady area where the goalkeepers practiced.

Today, though, you were joined by familiar faces.

"Jana! Bruna! Look, I made pictures!"

The two girls, cleared from medical enough to lightly train but not enough to do the extremely complicated drills that were currently going on, hung out with you.

"That is very good, y/n," Jana complimented," You're the best colourer."

"I am very good." You knew that already because Ingrid and her Mapi told you often but, still, it was nice to be recognised for your talent. "You colour."

You tore a sheet out of your book and gave it to Jana along with a purple pencil.

You did the same for Bruna before deciding, after watching her for a moment, that she wasn't doing well so you sat on her lap and helped her.

"In the lines," You told her, parroting the words your Papa used to say to you," So it's not messy anymore. Don't worry. You'll get better when you practice more."

"Gracias, y/n," Bruna said," I'm sure with an expert like you, I will get it in no time."

You nodded and grabbed another sheet. "Mama says you have to practice to get better. She says that's why Ingrid's so good at the ball game so you have to practice your colouring, Bruna. So you can get better."

The warm Spanish sun beat down upon you and your friends as the other girls trained. When it get even hotter, Jana and Bruna gave you two bottles of water and sent you on your way with them.

"Gemma! Cata!" You said as you approached," Here!"

"Our hero!" Cata said as she unscrewed the lid and drained it. "Thanks, kiddo! Gemma, thank her."

Gemma sprayed water at Cata. "I was going to before you interrupted." She leaned down to hug you before allowing you to chug from her drink. "Thanks for the drink, little buddy. Why don't you head on back to Jana and Bruna and do some more colouring? It's nearly time for lunch."

Gemma was right because no sooner had you completed your third picture, did Marta and Caro come to collect you.

Your hand fit easily into Caro's hand and you took Marta's too - just because you could. Together, they swung you into the air every few steps and you giggled ecstatically every time.

Marta laughed with you while Caro settled for just a smile. You beamed at them both - especially when Caro decided to make a pitstop to get you a chocolate bar from the vending machine.

Marta ended up making your plate for lunch and no matter how much you begged and begged, she stuck to the list of approved food your sister had given her.

"Go on, nena," She said, directing you to a very full table," Can I trust you girls to look after her?" The occupants of said table all nodded and she gave them a fierce look before relenting.

Lucy stopped you from sitting down, grabbing her jacket to pile it onto the empty seat. She nudged Keira. "Pass it over." Once Keira surrendered her own jacket as well as Ona, Salma and Esmee, Lucy used them all to create a makeshift booster seat for you before plonking you onto it and pushing your food closer.

"I heard you had a fun weekend, nena," Ona said with a smile, glancing around before pushing part of her nice food onto your plate.

You nodded. "Uh-huh, Ingrid took me to the park and her Mapi let me take Bagheera on a walk."

Esmee rolled her eyes with a huff of a laugh. "She spoils that cat."

"Bagheera's my best boy," You replied to her, cramming food into your mouth," He naps in sunspots and sleeps in my bed with me."

"Really?" Keira asked before glaring daggers at Lucy," Sounds just like Narla."

You cocked your head to the side. "Tia Alexia's dog sleeps in her bed?"

"She means my dog," Lucy said as she ruffled your hair," I have a dog called Narla too."

You made a face. "That's mean, Lucy," You said," You shouldn't name your dog after Tia's Nala. She could get bullied."

Salma, on your other side, laughed. "I don't think dogs get bullied, nena."

"Cats get bullied," You said," Ingrid's Mapi said that's why Bagheera isn't allowed out without her - because the neighbourhood cats bully him. The other dogs could bully Lucy's Narla."

Salma chuckled as she ruffled your hair and shovelled food into your mouth. "Never change, nena. You're adorable."

You made a face at that but didn't argue, allowing Salma to feed you to rest of your meal.

You got restless halfway through lunch and slipped off your seat to tug on Irene's sleeve. You bounced up and down urgently. "Toilet," You said to her because she was Mateo's mama and your mama told you that every mama in the world recognised the potty dance.

Thankfully, your mama was right because Irene excused herself from her conversation and took your hand, leading you to the bathroom.

You did your business quickly but had to be lifted up to reach the sink and then again to use the hand dryer - bursting into hysterical giggles when Irene poked you in the stomach when your top rode up.

By the time you got out of the toilet, lunch had finished and Mariona joined the two of you on your walk to the gym.

"Looking cool in your shoes, nena," She said.

You grinned at her proudly. "They're my most favourite!" Yet again, you had chosen to wear your new light-up shoes. You had been wearing them a lot recently so now Ingrid didn't get worried your feet would start aching because they had finally been broken in.

"Well, they're my most favourite too!" Mariona replied.

"Good!" You said firmly, patting her side in approval with a smiling face. Mariona was pretty cool most of the time when she wasn't running around like a headless chicken and she was doubly cool when she talked to you about your new shoes.

"Are we talking about super cool light-up shoes because..." Patri stamped her feet and the bottom of her shoes lit up into a rainbow.

You gasped and jumped, showing that your shoes could do the same.

"I told you I'd find them, nena! Look at us, we're matching!"

"We are!"

Patri took your hands from Irene and jumped up and down with you, both of your shoes lighting up in sync. You giggled hysterically as the colours bounced.

Over her shoulder, you spied another recognisable face.

"Claudia! Claudia!" You exclaimed," Look! Look! We match!"

You and Patri jumped again to prove your point and Claudia gasped. She glanced around like she had a secret before beckoning you closer.

"You know what?" She asked.

"What?"

"All three of us match!"

She stamped her feet and her shoes lit up too.

You gasped.

"Wow! So cool!"

You looked around the room, holding onto Patri and Claudia and dragging them over to the corner of the gym.

"Aitana! Aitana! Aitana! We match!"

The three of you stamped your feet, causing the rainbow lights to appear again.

Aitana, as she lifted weights, smiled at you. "That's really cool, nena."

You looked down at Aitana's sad, boring shoes and sighed. You released Claudia and Patri to pat Aitana on the leg consolingly.

"It's okay," You told her," If you ask very nicely Claudia and Patri can take you to get matching shoes too."

She let out a chuckle. "Thanks, nena."

Before you could make any more suggestions though, you were pulled away from your friends by Frido, who promptly led you over to the opposite side of the gym which had been set up for your nap time.

You frowned. "Don't wanna nap," You complained.

Frido sighed. "I know. I don't want you to nap either but Ingrid says so."

You huffed. "Ingrid's not the boss of you."

Frido's eyebrows raised. "Somehow, I don't think Ingrid agrees with that. Come on, you, nap time. I'll get you some cake tomorrow if you nap now."

Your eyes narrowed. "With sprinkles?"

"With sprinkles."

"Okay. Naptime now."

Your nap went by very quickly and when you ended it, you still felt groggy.

Someone was touching you though and you squirmed around in their arms until your head was tucked into their neck. They were nice though, nice and warm even if they jostled you every time they took a step.

"You should take a picture for Olga," Your Ingrid's Mapi teased," It might get you one of these sooner rather than later."

"I'm quite content with this one." It was Tia Alexia's voice that spoke next and you realised that you were in her arms.

You blinked away your sleepiness and rubbed your eyes. "Hola, Tia," You said softly.

"Hola, nena," She replied," You slept a long while. I was getting worried you would sleep forever."

"Silly, Tia," You said," That's not possible."

"No?" She teased," Oh, silly me!" She bounced you. "It's nice to see you, nena. I was worried I wouldn't see you today."

"I always like seeing you, Tia," You replied.

"I like see you too."

You turned your head out of her neck and smiled softly at Ingrid's Mapi.

She smiled back at you, a small smile that was reserved only for you. "Hola, elskling," She said and her use of Ingrid's nickname for you made you feel all nice and fluttery inside. "We're heading home now. Ingrid's getting the car all nice and ready for us."

You nodded but didn't say anything else. You still felt kind of tired and sleepy so just soaked in Tia Alexia's warmth and the steady hum of talking between her and Ingrid's Mapi.

You didn't even notice when you moved from Tia Alexia's arms to your Ingrid's until you were placed in your car seat and strapped in.

Ingrid hovered over you as she wiped up the drool from your cheek. "Hi, elskling. Don't you look all nice and sleepy?"

"Frido made me nap," You replied, eyes drooping as she clipped in the last buckle," But I wasn't really sleepy."

"I bet you're sleepy now though, right?"

You nodded and yawned. "Little bit."

"That's alright, elskling," She said," You have a nice little nap in the car and then you can get up when we get home."

"Okay..." Your eyes drooped even lower. "Mapi?"

"Si, elskling?"

"Can we have cuddles with Bagheera on the sofa when I wake up?"

"Of course, elskling. I'm sure Bagheera would love to cuddle with you."

"And you."

"And me."

"And Ingrid."

"And Ingrid too."