#do they fight every time they see each other? yes absolutely

[ellecdc]

hey elleeeee

could i pretty please do 🐻 the sharing a bed prompt, “cuddling in their sleep” + “waking up with their faces centimetres apart”. with remus but theyre not together just pinNING for eachother and this happens.

consider it done

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who cuddle for warmth and that's totally it [641 words]

CW: fem!reader, Remus sort of pining, but maybe it's not one sided!?!?, fluff, sort of a continuation from this post

Remus thinks he should perhaps feel a little guilty having taken advantage of the current situation; his original offer certainly hadn’t been a selfless one. 

Was the flat sodding freezing? Yes, it was. Would he have been up worrying all night that you’d died of hypothermia in your own bed? Absolutely. Was it indeed warmer having consolidated every blanket and pillow the two of you owned into one bed and sharing body heat to stay more comfortable? Damn right it was. 

But, it was because of all these aforementioned reasons that Remus felt it was perhaps a touch unethical to be enjoying his current situation as much as he did. 

The two of you were gripping each other’s hands and arms as if you were both afraid the other would simply float away had you not been holding on for dear life. The soft, cloud filtered light bathing your face in its glow; your head resting on one of his pillows he hoped to god smelled like you, now, that was but a few measly centimetres away from his own face. 

He found himself nearly holding his breath as though he was afraid to disturb the peace of this moment, one that he'd been fighting against yet secretly yearning for since he realised how much he enjoyed your presence; perhaps a bit too much to be simply considered roommates, or even just friends. 

He catalogued the way your eyelashes fanned from beneath your closed eyes and kissed the tops of your cheeks, fluttering ever so slightly when something would happen in your dream. He revelled in the way that you seemed to be smiling, even in your sleep; your lips relaxed and pursed ever so slightly as you breathed through your nose. 

Your nose - it was stupid and foolish and silly, but fuck - he loved your nose.

And this might well and truly be the one and only time he got to enjoy you like this, so sue him for what he did next.

He hardly had to move at all, really, he simply pushed his chin forward so that his nose bumped into yours. He was checking, you see, because he knew his nose was cold from the cool air surrounding your nest of pillows and blankets and body heat, but he needed to see if yours was too. He couldn’t in good conscience sit here and admire your nose if you were about to lose it to frostbite, now could he? 

Remus found himself smiling at the fact that your nose, for whatever reason, was slightly warmer than his. Good, he thought, I’d like her to keep her nose. 

“You’re supposed t’be sleeping.” You blurt rather suddenly for Remus’ tastes, still never opening your eyes as Remus rears his head back, though you strengthen your hold on his hands and arms so that he can’t actually move away from you.

“How long have you been awake?” He accuses you instead of admitting he was being a creepy fuck and watching you sleep.

You don’t answer him, though. Instead, you let out a languid stretch before releasing your hold of his hands in favour of wrapping your arms around his torso and slotting yourself against him; legs tangled with his and your nose - colder than the skin of his collarbone - pushing into his neck as you tucked yourself under his chin. 

“Go t’sleep, Rem.” You order him, tightening your hold around his chest as he allows his arms to cautiously encircle you in his own embrace; one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, and the other cupping the back of your head lovingly. 

He didn’t follow your order, unfortunately. But he did spend the rest of the morning wondering, hoping, nearly begging the universe that perhaps this might not be the last time he gets to enjoy you like this.

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 ♡⃕ spider boy, king of thieves:

spiderman ! percy jackson

▰▰▰ pairing(s): percy jackson x female!reader.

Spider-boy, king of thieves Weave your little webs of opacity

author: percy jackson is the textbook definition of a peter parker variant, fight me

y/n loved Percy Jackson, she was sure of it. Had been sure of it for years now. For some time, she had been sure, too, that those feelings were one hundred percent reciprocated.

Percy and her, they had this pull towards each other, or that's what everyone else seemed to believe when they said the two of them were perfect for each other. Sadly, y/n was aware that the fairytale everyone seemed to buy was far from perfect and, as much as she wanted to be with him, something always seemed to get in the way.

This was the thrid time they broke up, and y/n was sure it was going to be the final time. Of course, they always seemed to find their way back to each other but she couldn't allow that to happen another time. As much as she loved him, she simply couldn't.

Because dating Percy was a mess, a hurtful mess. it wasn't always like that. they used to be happy and in love, but then he started disappearing for hours with no communication, arriving late to pick her up or standing her up on dates, and he always gave some kind of made up explanation about it. The last straw was when he arrived two hours late to the winter dance he had promised to take her and then refused to tell her why.

y/n's friends seemed to think there had to be two explanations: he was cheating on her or losing feelings for her. Either way, she didn’t want to find out, so she broke up with him before he had the chance to break her heart again. Now there was absolutely no going back, even if all she wanted to do was call him back and take back everything, that wouldn't even work since he never even answered his phone.

"so this is the last time, huh?" her best friend said skeptically, as if she really didn’t believe her. Fair enough, she had already gone back to him two times already.

"yes, and you'll see I really mean it this time." she reassured her friend as she held her phone in between her ear and her shoulder, her hands busy while she went through her closet. "this trip is just what I need, when I'm back I won't even remember who Percy Jackson is."

That was hardly the truth, but at least she hoped she could begin to get over him while she was away for the holidays. She was going to Boston to visit family there, and maybe some time apart from the city and from Percy would be just what she needed.

"y/n, you know I love you" her friend started and she was taking the clothes she needed for the trip but she paused when she heard her tone. "but I find that hard to believe."

y/n was about to reply in her defense, when her gaze landed on a blue sweater in her closet. Percy's sweater. She didn’t even know how long it had been there, but she knew exactly what to do.

"i'm being serious, I'll even go and give him his things back before I go to Boston." she decided, dropping her own clothes in her suitcase before taking the sweater from her closet.

that was something she had never done in the past two breakups, and she did have a lot of his stuff just hanging around in her room. Some of his clothes, his camera from the last time he came around, some of his books, drawings, comics, even the christmas gift she had already bought and wrapped for him weeks ago.

She hadn't realized how much of his stuff she had until she hung up on her friend and she already had a box full of his things. It was difficult not to cry while going through it all, everything held a memory behind it and every memory having anything to do with Percy was painful enough to bring tears to her eyes.

Still, she managed to keep her feelings in check as she took the box and walked out of her apartment, thankfully her parents seemed to be too busy packing to have any questions as she slipped out of the front door. Then, walking to Percy's was easy enough since he didn’t live too far from her, so twenty minutes later she stood upside of his apartment with the box in one hand as she knocked with the other one.

It wasn't Percy that came to open, and she should've been grateful that it was Sally instead, but her smile almost dropped because maybe she had wanted to see him. Still, Sally was too sweet not to smile at her as she opened the door. "y/n! what are you doing out in this cold? and without sweater!"

something she could admit was that she was going to miss was Sally, Percy's mom was just the sweetest and always cared for y/n like she was family. And now the tears were threatening to spill again.

"I wasn't planning on spending too much time out of my house." she started, biting the inside of her cheek because she couldn't, for the love of God, cry in front of Sally. "I was just dropping Percy's stuff off."

Sally looked at the box in her hands and finally seemed to register what was happening, her smile fading slowly as she now looked at the teenager with pity. y/n knew she was probably aware of the break up, Percy always told Sally everything, but it was hard having to stand there and act all tough when the woman was looking at her with such sadness.

still, Sally was nothing if not positive, so after a second she smiled again. "he's not here right now, but you can come in and wait for him if you want." she opened the door further, as if welcoming her in.

and y/n knew she shouldn't, she should just leave the box with Sally and forget all about Percy, but she simply couldn't say no to Sally. And, well, she hadn't seen Percy since last week, it would hurt to see him one last time. Maybe make sure he was doing alright.

"okay" she nodded and stepped into the apartment, following behind Sally as she beamed at her.

Of course, Sally gave her some hot cocoa and blue chocolate chip cookies while she waited, and she made sure to avoid the breakup topic when they both sat down to talk. y/n loved Sally, she was always full of stories and advice and a kind of motherly love y/n herself wasn't used to receiving from her own mother.

But after an hour, Percy hadn't came back and Sally didn’t have a clue where he was, so she sent y/n to wait for him in his room while she went to run some errands. Which y/n should've refused to do but yet again didn’t.

"And y/n?" Sally called as she opened the door, the younger girl was still amazed at how much the woman trusted her just to leave her there. "I can't say I know what exactly happened between you and Percy, but I can tell you he cares about you."

Yeah, that's what y/n had wanted to believe for years, what everyone always told her. But now she wasn't so sure about it, still, she smiled at Sally and let her go before she went into Percy's room, which was exactly how she remembered from the last time she had been there.

She tried not to look around too much, knowing she would feel too nostalgic about it all, instead she busied herself with playing some game on her phone while she waited. Unfortunately, thirty minutes later Percy hadn't arrived and she was already too tired of waiting for him. That's all she ever did. So she stood up from his bed, leaving the box there and shortly after making her way to the door while the dissapointment settled in her stomach.

but then just as she was about to turn the knob, she heard some ruffling behind her back and then the noise of Percy's window opening. She immediatly turned around, her heart racing as she expected to find some thief entering through the window, yet she had to stop herself from screaming when she didn’t find thief but, far from it, Spider-man.

what was Spider-man doing in Percy's room? As he entered the room, y/n put her hands over her mouth to stiffle a stragled sound. Spider-man didn’t seem to realize she was there as he started crawling through the roof.

y/n was gaping at the superhero, unsure of what to do as her mind raced through countless scenarios. Yet, nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. She let out a squeak she couldn’t contain when Spider-Man started to remove his mask, catching his attention

wait wait wait y/n froze when she realized- first she recognized the hair. his hair. the one she had ran her fingers through countless of times. When he finally turned around, she already knew who he was.

Percy looked as shocked as she was once his eyes finally found her, her pale face and her back against the door she had been trying to open just seconds before. "this is not what you think it is." he blurted out, still hanging from the roof.

She had trouble finding her voice again. "so you're not Spider-man, you just go around crawling on people's ceilings dressed as him?" she asked, surprised at the slight sarcasm in her shocked voice.

He let go of the roof, y/n was about to point out that his amazing landing didn’t exactly help his case at all, but he looked at her with panic in his eyes so she shut her mouth. "well maybe it is what it looks like."

She lost her breath, and she knew she had to sit down soon, so she simply walked past him and took a seat in his bed, exactly where she had been minutes before. Percy's eyes shifted at the box placed beside her, and he looked like he was about to question it before he shook his head and pushed it away so he could sit.

"So you're Spider-man." she managed to say after a few seconds of silence that felt like hours.

"I guess I am." he replied, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal at all, for a moment y/n wanted to throw something at him but now that she knew he was Spider-man, it was likely he was going to catch it before it even came close to hitting him.

That thought opened the door for many others as realization dawned on her: Every time he caught something without even looking, every time he was late to dates or disappeared for hours only to reappear suddenly—she realized it all added up. The missed calls, unanswered messages, and the times he stood her up, and-

"Oh my god, is this why you were late for the winter dance?" he seemed to hesitate before he nodded slowly, she averted her eyes to look at anything but him, she couldn't look at him right now. "so you let me break up with you instead of just telling me the truth?"

"it's not-" he stopped himself, taking a deep breath before he could go on. "it's not like that, I just wanted to keep you safe."

She didn’t know if she was annoyed or sad, but she sure as hell wanted to cry. "Percy you've been lying to me, that's not fair."

Percy rubbed the back of his neck, looking directly at her even though she wasn't looking at him. "I know it’s not fair. I know I messed up. But I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. I thought you’d be safer if you didn’t know, if I kept you away from me."

"Safer?" she scoffed, finally meeting his gaze with her eyes filled with tears. "Percy, you don't get to decide that for me. Do you know how much it hurt to think you didn’t care? I thought I wasn't enough for you for so long."

Seeing the tears in her eyes made Percy want to reach and hug her, but he knew her too much to know that she would probably pull away. "I care about you, that's why I did it." he felt like he was drowning as he tried to explain himself. "you mean everything to me, I wouldn't want to risk putting you in danger."

Her lips trembled as the anger melted into exhaustion. She wanted so badly to just let it go and fall back again into his arms, but the wound in her chest still ached. "You should’ve told me. I would've understood you."

He hesitated, his shoulders sagging as he admitted, "I was scared, okay? Scared the people after me would use you to get to me. Do you think I wanted you to feel like this? To lose you to this?"

The room fell silent again, but after a moment she looked away and stood up from the bed, she couldn't bear another minute there "I don’t know if I can forgive you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not right now."

And with that, Percy let her go. He had so many things to say, but he knew it wasn't the right time, it was better to just give her some time to think. But he also knew that she wouldn't let her walk away again, not this time. Not ever again.

y/n's parents were very mad at her but she couldn't bring herself to care just yet. The boston trip would've been an excellent idea after all the mess with Percy, but instead she had decided to skip it altogether and stay home for christmas.

Fortunately, New York was big enough so that she could avoid running into Percy. Unfortunately, it was difficult not to think about him when everything reminded her of him.

y/n loved to spend her afternoons walking through the bustling streets of New York. Right in that moment, she was trying to distract herself, but everything reminded her of him: the street vendor they always stopped by for pretzels, the bookstore where he had listened to her talk about every book she had read, the park where they had shared their first kiss just under a snowy day like this. Every way she looked to, there was a memory of him hidden.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice him hidden, following her every step until suddenly strong arms wrapped tight around her waist, and before she could even gasp, she’s was already soaring into the sky. Wind rushed past her as she looks at the the familiar red-and-black suit. "Percy!" she yells, half-angry, half-dizzy from the height.

He chuckles, the sound muffled through the mask. "Hey. Missed me?" she wanted to keep screaming at him, but she looked down and realized just how high they were so she gasped intead, holding tighly onto him.

He swung them higher, the city blurring beneath them until they landed on the rooftop of some random building. She stumbled a little, trying to catch her breath, but Percy steadied her.

"What the hell, Percy? you can't just do that and-" the words died in her mouth once she looked at what was waiting just in front of her.

"Surprise." he said softly, motioning to the cozy picnic blanket and basket waiting for them. The setting sun was casting a golden glow over the skyline, the view breathtaking.

He pulled his mask off as he turns to face her, his sea green eyes full of guilt. "I know it won't solve everything, but I just need you to listen to me, and after that if you hate it, you can push me off this roof."

That made her smile just a little, unintentionally showing the lingering affection she had been trying to bury. "as if that would work, you would probably land on your feet."

He laughed, and she realized just how much she was missed that laugh.

However, before she could even try to commit it to memory, he turned serious again as he took a step closer to her. "I'm really sorry for not telling you the truth sooner, I should have never let you believe that I didn’t care about you. I can't take what I did back, but from now on I swear to you that I'll never keep anything else from you again. Just let me show you how much you mean to me. One day at a time"

She tilted her head to the side, giving him a soft smile. "You’re really not going to give up, are you?"

"Not a chance," Percy replied almost immediatly, as if he didn’t even need to think about it. "You mean too much to me."

She looked at him for a long moment of silence, but she didn’t say anything, she simply stood there in silence before she finally sighed and went to sit on the blanket he had set up, he seemed confused but immediatly followed her to sit beside her. He didn’t push her, didn’t try to force a resolution. He just sat there, letting her process, letting her feel.

"Does this mean I don’t get pushed off the roof?"

"Don’t push your luck, Jackson," she replied, rolling her eyes even though there was a smile tugging at her lips.

They both sat right there in silence until she finally speaked again, looking up at the sky before going back to find his eyes, that were already on her. "one day at a time." she granted finally, and before he could even begin to smile, she continued. "but no more secrets."

Percy’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he nodded. "no more secrets."

She smiled at him, and he smiled at her. And they both knew that maybe not everything was okay just yet, but they would work it out. They were both in silence, except this time it was peaceful knowing that there was no secret between them.

However, as much as Percy was happy, he was also Percy so he couldn't hold the silence for much longer. "have you ever wanted to see New York the way I do?" he asked.

She hesitated, narrowing her eyes at him. "What does that mean?"

He stood up, offering her a hand as his eyes had a certain playful shine on them. "trust me, just let me show you."

And because y/n would follow that boy just about anywhere without any doubt, she took his hand after a second and let herself be pulled by him. It all happened so fast, one moment she's was standing up and the next he had her arms wrapped around her waist, stepping backwards off the ledge of the rooftop.

"Percy!" she shrieked, clinging to him instinctively as they both hung upside down.

"Relax, I’ve got you," he told her, chuckling softly. He started to walk slowly along the side of the building, his movements careful. She clutched onto him tightly, her heart racing from the adrenaline... and maybe from being so close to him again. "I always do."

When they reached a quiet spot where they could see the skyline, he stopped, holding her steady. "Look" he said softly, holding her with one arm as he uses the other to point to the city.

She followed his gaze, her breath hitching at how breathtaking the city lights looked shining beneath them. "it's beautiful, Percy" she mumbled.

"You’re beautiful" he didn’t meant to say it out loud, but he did and maybe he didn’t regret it, because when she looked at him, just a moment, the weight of their recent struggles melted away.

She rolled her eyes, but a small laugh escaped her. And it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. "That’s the corniest thing you’ve ever said."

"hey! I’m trying here" he replied, grinning. "besides, you deserve all the cheesy lines in the world."

y/n shook her head, but she couldn't hide her smile. And maybe, she thought, it isn't perfect at all but it's right. He's right for her. They are right for eachother.

They stayed there, just looking at the city underneath them as the night stretched on until it's was time for her to go back home. With the city humming below, Percy swung her back to her apartment.

The night air felt cold against her face, but thankfully her apartment wasn't far away. in no time, Percy was settling her down on the fire scape by her window.

"home sweet home." she couldn't see his face since he had put on the mask, but she knew he was grinning.

"thank you for dropping me home, quite literally." she smiled at him as she opened her window, but she didn’t step inside just yet because she wanted to be there with him for a longer moment. "and for everything else."

"anytime." once again, y/n wished she could see behind the mask because she could swear he was smiling, and she loved seeing that smile. Percy seemed like he was also buying time before he had to go. "hey, we're ok?"

"we will be" she nodded, and that seemed to be a good enough answer for Percy, who nodded back and took a deep breath.

Not knowing what else to say, she finally stepped into her room. Percy he took a deep breath as he saw her, then legs hooked over the ledge and he hung upside down, his head poking through her winsow.

"good night, y/n" he mumbled softly, ready to swing away. but just as he was turning to leave, she finally spoke.

"wait, Percy" she called for him, making him stop and turn his face back to her almost immediately, he looked alarmed, like he was bracing himself for something terrible to happen.

He was about to ask what was wrong, but y/n didn’t even stop to think before she pulled his mask down, uncovering his lips. Percy, perched outside her window, let out a surprised gasp just as she leaned in and claimed his lips with hers.

Percy's breath caught in his throat as he froze, surprised. But when he finally did react, he steadied himself, and leaned into the kiss, his heart pounding so hard he was afraid it might jump out of his chest at any moment.

The kiss started tentative, a mix of hesitation and longing. But as they melted into each other, the city around them faded away. For the first time in weeks, she felt whole again.

When they finally pulled apart, she could finally see the smile on his face. "and there it is folks, Spider-Man always gets the girl."

She rolled her eyes, swatting his chest lightly, but she couldn't possibly fight the smile tugging at her lips. "You’re impossible."

"And you love it." he replied, his grin widening.

y/n chuckled, looking down at him, her heart full. "I’ll see you soon, Percy," she said, her voice playful yet fond.

"make that tomorrow." He winked at her, then swung away into the night, leaving her standing by the window, knowing that they would be alright.

[wren-galathinyus]

a little late to this game and I can't even give my full notes like the previous two times (I'm at work and can't do the second watch through I do to take note of my thoughts) but I would like to scream regardless, sp here are a few disjointed thoughts and feelings I'm screaming into the void!

as always, spoilers for arcane, the final act, under the cut

-LESBIAN SEX LETS GO WE FUCKINGGGG WOONNNNNNNNNNNNNN 🎉🎉🎉🎉🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

-but on a serious note for that thought, I'm so fucking happy that we got to have this. these two complex, beautiful, awful amazing women who are unapologetically queer and finally get their shit together to realise, the world isn't gonna wait for us, let's have sex, let's enjoy it. the fumble that vi makes with caits fancy belt, the delicate and healing way that cait holds and undresses vi, the full shot of vi's back tattoo, the fact that they can't keep their hands off each other and can't stop smiling! fuck! this was everything to me if you couldn't tell. also so much appreciation to the fact that this scene is an exact parallel to their first meeting!

-yes Mel get it with your sexy golden magic. I can't wait for the spin off series that will come from thus show cus I think it'll explore the black Rose and noxus war and I can't wait to see more of them!

-cait fighting desperate and dirty while still being so smart you have my heart (also cait with an eyepatch, fuccckkkkkkkkkk

-Maddie's betrayal lol, and the thanks for the warmth, bitch what warmth, cait was so mean to you even when you were sleeping together 😂

-the alternate reality???? oughh, oug oww, I need to lie down and cry for a whole week about that. everyone being alive except vi??? that shit hurted. also, domestic and therapised powder was everything I didn't know I needed and I'm so glad that when ekko figured out the anomaly that that timelines ekko came back to her. timebomb so cannon (also adore ekko for this entire act, every single second of it)

-jayvik mutual destruction is so them actually, and I'm glad they were together in the end. also sorcerer older vik had to be my favourite of his character designs. he looks so soft and at peace

-ambessas death is really not something I though we would see, or at least not in the way that it happened. but it's almost bitter-sweet that her death was nesacary for Mel to graduate to wolf in her eyes

-look, heimerdingers sacrifice was cute and heartfelt, but I really didn't have any attachment to the guy and was just glad that ekko made it home. very cute little song though

-Jinx is fucking dead and I hate it. yes it was in character, she did her one last good thing and just wanted to rest, but damn why did it have to be like that , but on the other hand, it leaves open the spot for powder to take hold of the narrative, because don't think I didn't see those hextech gems girl. she is everything to me and I really hope she's apart of whatever story comes next (I'm praying that powder gets to see vi all grown up, and that her older sister is okay, and that vi gets to see powder, the girl she might have been, and also that vi can see her brothers all grown up) (but that's all just wishful thinking)

-btw!! I always had faith in the writers. I love how this season came out on the full. it's absolutely amazing to me how they have managed to create on of if not the highest quality animated TV show ever. it was admittedly rushed, and I would have loved to see all these plot threads tugged at thoroughly before being tied up, but I still think what we got was a masterpiece

-jayce I did not like you in season one but I loved you in season two, and I held out hope that we would see why you did what you did, and it was so fucking perfect I would like to kick all of the jayce haters, just a little in the shins

-back to Jinx, it was genuinely so heartbreaking to see her catatonic over the loss of Isha and I hope they're together again now

-final form (herald) vik was pretty cool I like how it looked compared to his LoL design

-cait and Mel team up was something I didn't know I needed but damn it was good. the gays and girl kissers were eating well this weekend

-the animation of powder and ekko dancing? think I'll just go cry for another week for that alone, and their kiss!!??!? screaming crying

okay that's all I can think of for now. I may post more, I may not. I will absolutely be reposting like crazy though. agree or disagree with me, I want to hear your thoughts!

[aketan]

Sechegur and Morokha, the fighting idiots Aruktai is clapping because it was he who put them into the t-shirt

ah that sweet dotharl vs oronir rivalry angry ponytail man Morokha @mallizard

[laugtherhyena]

Playing Bomb rush cyberfunk has been a crazy experience so far because i feel like I've been enjoying the game just as much as I'm not doing so

[grison-in-space]

from the number of asinine complaints about how "voting is NOT a form of harm reduction" because harm reduction is for ADDICTS! ONLY! I'm seeing around... all coming from OP blogs I don't recognize and which otherwise don't have much presence... well, that coordination alongside the timing of US politics sure feels like the Russian troll bots agitating again. (Yes, they absolutely infested Tumblr; I think @ms-demeanor had a great post about what the bots looked and felt like somewhere that I will have to try and track down tomorrow.)

The thing is, if you actually do know harm reduction well, the complaint makes no sense. It's not as if the origin of harm reduction is a secret or especially hard to find out more about. I am not exactly an expert in the field: I have a educated layperson's interest in public health and infectious disease, I'm a queer feminist of a certain age and therefore have a certain degree of familiarity with AIDS-driven safer sex campaigns, and I'm interested in disability history and self advocacy (and I would in fact clarify harm reduction as a philosophy under this umbrella). So I have about twenty years of experience with harm reduction as a philosophy basically by existing in communities whose history is intertwined with harm reduction, which means I know it well from many different angles, and I know how the story of the philosophy is generally taught.

See, this is a story that starts, as so many stories do, in the 1980s with something monstrous President Reagan was doing. In this case, it was the AIDS epidemic, and Reagan refusing to devote any money or time to what eventually became called AIDS (rather than the original GRIDS, which came with its own baked in homophobia). Knowing themselves abandoned by society in this as in all things, and watching as friends and loved ones died in droves, queers and addicts are two communities who see that they are the only resources that they collectively have to save each other's lives. Queers know that sex, even casual sex, is an important part of people's lives and culture... and people aren't going to stop doing it even if there's a disease, so how can it happen safely? Condoms. Condoms every time, freely available, easy and shameless, shower them on people in the street if you have to. (And other things: this is the origin of the concept of "fluid bonding", for example... both of which were concepts that were immediately adopted in response to COVID, like outdoor socially distsnced greetings and masks and "bubbles." That wasn't an accident. Normalizing sexual health tests and seeing hard results on paper before sex was a thing, too.)

Addicts, too, knew that using was going to happen no matter how earnestly people tried to stop. If it was that easy, addiction wouldn't exist. So: how do you make using safer for longer? If you could stop someone getting HIV before they could bring themselves to get clean, that's a whole life right there. If you could stop someone overdosing once, twice, a dozen times, that's more time you're buying them to claw themselves out of addiction and into a better place. Addicts see, right, needle sharing is getting the diseases spread, so cut down on needle sharing. Well, needles aren't easy to get hold of. Their supply is controlled because people who aren't prescribed needles are theoretically junkies, so taking the needles away makes it harder to use, right— and no one is complicit, and also you see fewer discarded needles lying around where they're unsanitary and unsafe, right? Except that people want to do a buddy a good turn, so they share if there's no other option, and they'll keep a needle going until it's literally too blunt to keep using if need be. So fighting needle sharing means making it easier to get needles to shoot up with: finding a place to discard used ones and get as many fresh ones as you need to use safely!

Making free needles available to junkies and free condoms for the bathhouses was not a popular solution with politicians, for perhaps obvious reasons. Nor was routine testing of the blood supply, because that cost money too. But these things work to stop the spread of disease. Thus the principle of harm reduction: policy interventions in response to communities that frequently engage in risky behavior should focus on whatever reduces aggregate harm by reducing the risk rather than by trying to reduce the behavior. The homos and junkies say look, all your societal judgement in the world hasn't stopped us being homos and junkies yet. You ain't going to look after us? We'll look after our own. And this is the form that takes. Not increasing the pressure to act like people who aren't is, but making it safer to be the people we are while we try to be the happiest versions of ourselves. Even if that means being morally complicit in a whole lot of casual sex and drug abuse.

The thing is, harm reduction is a philosophy rooted in the defiance of people who knew that their society thought they deserved to die painfully, young, invisible and alone. This is not the kind of thing that people come up with and get mad if you adapt it and share it, especially if you tell the story of where it came from. And importantly, harm reduction is not purely the child of addiction: that philosophy, from the get go, was cooked up to apply both to substance abuse and casual sex. It didn't just spread from addiction care; it was born straddling addiction care and queer & feminist health care.

So it doesn't make sense to see actual activists who know harm reduction well complaining that this is a term exhibiting semantic drift when we talk about voting as harm reduction. It's actually a good metaphor: you're reducing the overall risk of the worst case scenario metaphors by voting Democrat, at least until future votes can install a system where multiple parties can flourish on the political scheme. (Democrats and Republicans are essentially coalitions of a pack of arguing factions anyway, and those factions are essentially what would be classed elsewhere as a party in its own right; the US essentially just lumps political granularity rather than splitting it in our political system.) And anyone who understands harm reduction itself knows that.

So it's this wildly inorganic complaint being voiced repeatedly by different sources. Sounds like a pretty good flag for a potential psyop to me.

If you want to learn more about harm reduction and its history, especially from an addiction perspective, I cannot recommend Maia Szalavitz's Undoing Drugs: How Harm Reduction is Changing the Future of Drugs and Addiction (2022) highly enough. Szalavitz has a history of addiction of her own as well as being a clear and accessible writer with an excellent grasp of neuroscience and history. I have a lot of respect for her work.

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: You are forced to marry General Marcus Acacius to save your brother.]

Forced marriage, smut

(I know nothing about his character in this movie so bear with me, this is probably all inaccurate but I hope you enjoy it!)

“You will make a beautiful wife” he whispered before he abruptly put his arm around your waist and pulled you against him. You gasped as your body roughly slammed into his unexpectedly.

“You look at me when I speak to you” he demanded. You looked up at him noticing his eyes soften when he realized the fear in yours.

Henry and you were not close siblings, the hate you had for your older brother was an understatement. A gladiator who was wanted dead by many…you didn’t blame them. You never understood how he could become a gladiator after your father was murdered by one. You despised those deadly fights. You heard the rumors about your brother and things he had done which is why you chose to stay away from him….that was until he came to find you.

Being dragged into a carriage you were forcibly taken somewhere by your brother and two other men. Struggling to break free from his hold you screamed in frustration as he pulled you out of the carriage and dragged you into a place you had never been.

“What are you doing?!” You screamed attempting to pull your wrist away as he continued to pull you along.

“This is where you will stay now” he explained.

“What?” You asked in confusion before he turned to you.

“They want me dead. You’re the only thing that can save me from it. You’ll submit yourself as a wife-“

“No! No! Henry please” you screamed realizing what he was doing, realizing what his plan was.

“You will submit yourself to General Marcus Acacius. It has to be done” you stood in shock at the mention of his name.

“You are absolutely insane-“

“Shut up” he snapped.

“You know who this man is! You know what he’s responsible for!” You screamed as your brother simply ignored you.

“Henry please, whatever it is we can work something out-“

“The deal is done!” He yelled loudly just as the door opened. Quickly he stood straight and forced you to turn as you held in your tears.

General Marcus Acacius had arrived.

The man who was responsible for your father’s death.

Wearing a red and gold like cape you could feel the intimidation from his presence just as he laid eyes on you for the first time. Quickly looking away from him he made his way to your brother. He stood before Henry and with the corner of your eye you could see him look at you.

“So this is whom you’ve bought for me”

“Yes General, she is my younger sister. She now belongs to you” your heart dropping at your brother’s words.

“Very well. You may go” Henry turned to you once more before leaving the room, leaving you alone with Marcus.

Nervously you swallowed as he slowly walked towards you. You couldn’t look at him, you refused to. Standing right before you, his eyes analyzed every part of you when he noticed a single tear rolling down your cheek. Just as he lifted his hand close to your face you flinched, he didn’t move for a moment before gently brushing away your tear with his thumb. General Marcus had no idea what pain he had caused you, he did not know how you felt about him.

“My future wife” he spoke low watching as your chest rose and fell with each breath you took. He took another step closer towering over you as you almost stumbled back.

“You will make a beautiful wife” he whispered before he abruptly put his arm around your waist and pulled you against him. You gasped as your body roughly slammed into his unexpectedly.

“You look at me when I speak to you” he demanded. You looked up at him noticing his eyes soften when he realized the fear in yours.

“I’m..sorry General” for the first time he heard your voice. He didn’t let you go, his hold on you still firm before he slowly raised his hand and gently caressed your face.

“You will be taken care of. Protected by all means.”

“Yes, General” you responded obediently.

“Marcus” he corrected you before releasing you and taking a step back.

“I will have your room prepped. We are to be married before the day ends tomorrow-“

“Tomorrow?” you whispered slightly shocked.

“If you need anything please do not be afraid to ring for my servants. They are now yours as they are mine. You will be taken to your room shortly.” And with that Marcus left the room leaving you confused.

Married tomorrow? This couldn’t be happening…not like this.

After being escorted to your room and being sure you were left alone you began to pace back and forth thinking of a plan. Panic rising through you at the thought of marrying the man responsible for your pain. You had to find a way out of this even if it cost your brother his life. He didn’t deserve to live, he wasn’t a good man. Being a wife to General Marcus Acacius? Absolutely not. How dare he forcibly submit you to him…how dare he…

Looking out your window you spotted several guards monitoring the premises in the front. There had to be a way out in the back and you had to find it fast.

Silently leaving your room you looked in every direction making sure Marcus or any of the servants wouldn’t appear. Hell you had no idea your way around this damn place but you were determined to figure it out. Hearing a voice not too far you quickly froze against the wall until you heard their footsteps walk in the opposite direction. Running down the dark hallway you finally came across a large door, you were sure it led to the outside. Risking it all you quietly pulled it open to see Marcus himself in a dark room turning to you with a glass in hand.

“What do we have here?” He placed his glass down as your lips parted taking a step back.

“I um-I was just-“ you couldn’t find the words as he walked towards you, his arm reaching behind you to close the door. The flicker of the candle hanging off the wall reflecting off his eyes as he leaned closer.

“You were what?”

“I um…I was-“ your heart racing as you struggled to make up an excuse but what good was it in doing so.

“I…I can’t marry you” you blurt out as he furrowed his brows.

“Excuse me?” He took another step forward as you anxiously stepped back against the door.

“I can’t I-“

“You were trying to leave” he spoke low with a tone of realization before he turned away from you.

“I’m sorry Marcus, it’s just-“

“Do you have any idea the possible dangers you could’ve come across walking out of here on your own?!” He unexpectedly yelled loudly as he turned back to you. His response confusing you at the fact that he even seemed concerned. Yet as concerned as he may have seemed the anger was clear.

“Do you?” His jaw clenched as he looked down at you waiting for a response.

“No” you whispered.

“My future wife is to not walk freely outside the premises after the sun sets. Is that understood?”

“But-“

“Is it?” He hissed.

“I…I don’t think you heard me…-“ you spoke hesitantly shocking yourself that you even said anything at all.

“I..I can’t do this. I won’t be your future wife-“ before you could even finish your sentence he grabbed your arm pulling you to him.

“I’m afraid you don’t get to make that decision”

“It’s not fair” you whispered.

“Would you rather me leave you without protection, as I know your brother did not offer you such-“

“The only protection I need is from what’s in here” you responded in fear yet you spoke your truth. He looked at you rather puzzled yet didn’t move away.

“I beg your pardon, my dear”

“You’re a murderer” you whispered as tears began to flow.

“You think I would hurt my wife, the woman who will bear my children” he whispered in disbelief as bis nostrils flared.

“Let go of me” you attempted to pull away but his grasp tightened.

“I will not have your children!” You screamed.

“You’re a murderer! It was your fault! It was all your fault-“

“What was my fault?!” He yelled in frustration.

“Your invasion! It..it led to my father being killed, my brother leaving me…I had no one else..no one. You took them away” you cried as his eyes changed. You cried knowing whatever may have happened wasn’t going to change a thing. Marcus stood silent as he slowly released your arm, guilt in his eyes as he remembered what was done.

“I’m sorry for what you lost but I refuse to leave you without protection. I will see you in the morning, I trust you know your way back to your room” Marcus left you alone in tears as you slid down to the floor in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this is what your life had become.

Marcus angrily paced to his master room, slamming the door shut. Angry at himself with regret for all he had done, angry at himself for decisions he was not proud of and could never take back.

The next day Marcus stood beside you dressed in white and gold. A golden crown placed around his head as one was placed on yours after saying your “I dos”. You hadn’t looked at him once, you kept a straight face in front of a crowd of people you had never seen. Marcus reached his arm out to you as you silently took hold of it walking beside him. With a smile he greeted and thanked everyone hiding his true troubled feelings. You dreaded thinking of what was to come that night knowing you would have to be intimate with Marcus. Feeling defeated you showed no emotion, simply staying beside him as strangers congratulated you.

That night you were escorted to his master room where you found yourself alone. Observing the detail in the room you slowly walked closer to the king size bed with satin covers just as you heard the door open.

Marcus stood by the door closing it behind him as he watched you anxiously await him.

You looked like a goddess standing before him,

he couldn’t help but admire your beauty as much as you may have hated him. Slowly he moved closer to you as you took a deep breath simply wanting to get this over with. Unexpectedly you began undressing yourself letting your dress fall to the ground revealing your bare naked body to him. His eyes instantly falling to your breasts down to your womanhood, he pressed his lips together as if he was trying to compose himself. He knew you had never been touched by another. He was hard and eager to feel you, his fingers gently brushing up your waist as he took in the sight before him.

“You are my wife” he whispered before looking up at you.

“But I refuse to have you this way” his words shocked you.

“But…we’re supposed to…” you whispered.

“Not when my wife holds such hatred for me” he stepped a foot closer.

“In your eyes I am not a good man but I would never force my wife into bed.” he turned away leaving you shocked and confused as you quickly grabbed a robe that lay on a chair beside you.

“Marcus wait!” You rushed after him.

“Where are you going?”

“I have arranged to stay in the guest room-“

“People will know” you responded worriedly.

“It’s just for a few days. I know this all happened rather quickly, I just wanted to give you some time. I never meant to hurt you or your family. It was out of my control….I hope one day you can forgive me.” And with that Marcus left the room.

That night you found yourself with conflicting feelings, conflicting thoughts. General Marcus Acacius was not acting like the man you expected him to be, he was not acting like the man you had hated all along.

In the morning you were greeted by him having breakfast with bowls of fruit placed before him.

“Please” he pointed at the chair across from him.

“Join me” he watched as you sat down while looking at all the fresh fruit available.

“Which one is your favorite?” He asked making you look up.

“Um…strawberries” you responded softly. He delicately slid the bowl to you making you smile, something he realized he had never seen.

“Marcus” you whispered.

“Thank you…for last night.” Just as he was to respond one of the servants came in letting him know a man he had been waiting for arrived. Marcus stood up but before leaving your sight he leaned in towards you across the table with sincere eyes.

“There is nothing for you to thank me for.”

Days went by as you adjusted to your new life, your new routine along with your new confused feelings and thoughts.

You found yourself unexpectedly nervous with Marcus going to the arena. Never had you witnessed a fight with your own eyes but you always heard how brutal they could be. Of course being his wife you had a front row seat to witness it all and you didn’t know how you felt about it.

Sitting in a chair beside a few others you watched as Marcus showed himself to the crowd whom cheered loudly. You could feel your heart beating hard in your chest as his challenger came out. Marcus pulled out his sword, turned in your direction and looked you in your eyes before he began to fight. It felt as if you were holding your breath as the crowd roared with excitement. You couldn’t stand watching but you also couldn’t take your eyes away. The swords clashing together loudly until the man slid his sword against your husband’s arm. Blood instantly dripping to the ground as you stood up and gasped. The fight only getting bloodier as you continued to watch wishing it would end until Marcus suddenly drove his sword into the man’s throat. Covering your lips in shock you watched as the man fell to the ground as everyone cheered.

Just like that, your husband remained victorious.

Running downstairs to meet him inside you noticed just how bloodier he was as he got closer.

“Oh my God..” you whispered practically running to him.

“Are you alright?” You asked as you frantically looked at his arms searching for wounds until you found a large one along his arm.

“Yes, I’m-“

“Oh” you gasped looking at the wound as he watched you curiously not having expected you to be at his aid. Not expecting you to be filled with concern.

“It’s only a scratch” he assured you.

“A scratch?! You’re bleeding!” You looked up at him noticing the amused look in his eyes.

“What?” You took a step back composing yourself.

“You were afraid”

You stood silent for a moment realizing just how concerned you were from the moment the fight began. Your feelings were conflicted, why did you find yourself caring about a man you once hated?

“I’m not, I’m just-“

“You most certainly were” a grin appearing on his lips as he stepped forward.

“I’m not. We should get you cleaned up” you awkwardly reached for the towel and bowl of warm water that was left for him as he began to remove his armor. Silently he sat before you as you took the damp cloth and delicately began to clean off the blood on his arms.

“We should have that wrapped up” you spoke as you observed the wound not noticing the way he had been looking at you.

“Mhm” he agreed without taking his eyes off you. Taking it upon yourself you took some bandage and wrapped up his arm that best you could. Cleaning off the bloody cloth in the bowl you looked up and began to gently wipe his face. Your heart skipping a beat as his dark eyes distracted you. Slowly passing the cloth over his overhead feeling his curls brush against your skin you suddenly felt his hands grab your waist.

“Marcus..” you whispered knowing you would give in. He quickly stood up and pulled you in and before you knew it, his lips were locked with yours. Dropping the cloth on the floor behind him you wrapped your arms around him as he kissed you passionately. Moaning into his lips he carried you onto a table placing himself between your legs. You didn’t stop him as he caressed your face looking down at you. He knew you wanted him as much as he had been wanting you.

“What if someone comes in here?” You whispered as he leaned his forehead on yours.

“No one will” he assured you.

“Besides…you are my wife, I will have you wherever I please” he panted as he removed any clothing in his way and pushed your dress above your knees.

“But Marcus-“ you suddenly cried out as he pushed himself inside you. Grabbing onto him you panted as he held himself still. Looking into your eyes he watched as yours widened filled with shock and innocence.

“I’m sorry” he whispered roughly.

It hurt, of course it did. You had never even touched yourself to now have a man of his size break into you…yet you didn’t want him to stop. Pulling himself out he thrust his hips once again making you whimper.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered. You quickly shook your head pulling him closer.

“No, no, don’t. Please don’t” you practically begged brushing your lips against his as you spoke. He kissed you as he continued to move, his tongue swirling with yours as he felt your arousal with each stroke. You moaned as the pain slowly disappeared and was replaced with pleasure, he could feel it. A feeling you had never felt before, it was hard to contain yourself.

“Oh Marcus…” he kissed your neck as you rolled your eyes back. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, the pleasure built up in a way you didn’t expect.

“Marcus-“ you gasped.

“Mhm” he knew you were about to cum, he could feel it.

“Wait I-“

“No no, don’t fight it” he whispered. Something intense was happening and you didn’t think you could handle it.

“But it’s-“ you practically cried unable to speak.

“I know baby I’m right here,” he moved his hips faster feeling you tighten around him.

“I’m right here” he panted caressing your face, his thumb brushing across your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Let it go” he demanded when you moaned loudly as your body shook uncontrollably. He watched mesmerized as an orgasm took over you, your eyes in a trance. Feeling you cum all over his cock he could no longer compose himself. Just as your body relaxed he pushed in deeply releasing his warmth in you, a deep groan against your ear you felt his body collapse against you. Once he slid out you looked down and noticed blood on your dress.

“I’m bleeding” you looked up at him confused.

“It’s ok, it was your first time” he responded out of breath thinking of how he first entered you.

“I should’ve been more careful, I apologize”

“Don’t” you whispered as you slowly covered yourself. Marcus dressed himself and slowly helped you off the table.

“Will it always feel like this?” You asked looking up at him.

“No, I will be more careful next time you have my word-“

“No I meant…the way it felt after. Will it always feel that…good?”

He smirked looking down at you.

“What?” You raised a brow.

“I will make sure my wife always feels that way whenever I have her” he caressed your cheek with his thumb when you noticed his wound was bleeding again through the bandage.

“Marcus” you whispered brushing your fingers over his arm.

“Just a scratch. Come, help me patch it up in my room” he reached his hand out to you with a smile, you knew very well would continue in his room and with a smile you took his hand and walked along with him.

[thewispsings]

locked in a closet | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x landos bestfriend!reader

summary: lando norris locks his two bestfriends in a broom closet in hopes that they’ll stop hating each other.

liked by, oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 438,626 others!

lando.jpg: how can i get my bestfriends to stop hating each other?

view comments below!

oscarpiastri: you can’t.

lando.jpg: ☹️

oscarpiastri: you can pout all you want. We will never get along.

lando.jpg: why must you break my heart 💔

user1: it’s been a whole year lando…i don’t think they’ll ever get along

user2: NEVER SAY NEVER

user3: oscar this, lando that, can we talk about how good y/n looks?? 🙄

yourusername: THANK YOU!! nobody appreciates my beauty anymore 😒😒

oscarpiastri: what beauty?

yourusername: die?

user4: LMAOO

yourusername: maybe if, he who should not be named, wasn’t so annoying, we could actually get along!

oscarpiastri: i’m not fucking voldemort you can say my name

yourusername: o-os🤮c-ca🤮🤮🤮🤮 no i just can’t.

oscarpiastri: oh and i’m the annoying one??

yourusername: yeah! you are!

oscarpiastri: @/lando.jpg control her.

lando.jpg: guy please, can’t we all just get along 😞😞

yourusername: how would getting along with he who should not be named, benefit me??

lando.jpg: it would make me really really happy 😁😁

yourusername: i couldnt give less of a shit about your happiness lando

oscarpiastri: see? She’s a horrible friend, me on the on the hand would never be so mean to you.

yourusername: you told lando he looks like big bird two days ago?

user5: for two people who hate each other, they sure do talk a lot…

danielricciardo: why do they even hate each other so much? 🙄🙄

lando.jpg: oscar spilled his drink on y/n the first time they met. he refused to apologize. she refused to forgive him.

yourusername: you forgot to mention that my shirt was $300 😐😐

oscarpiastri: FIRST OFF who in their right mind buys a 300 HUNDRED DOLLAR SHIRT???!?!? and SECOND OFF, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!! I refuse to apologize for something that wasn’t on purpose.

yourusername: this is why your mom loves me more.

oscarpiastri: she does NOT.

nicolepiastri: …

oscarpiastri: MUM????

yourusername: i know that’s right.

user6: oscar and y/n would be so cute together if they stopped being so IMMATURE

user7: they should just #kissandmakeup

user8: me patiently waiting for the enemies to lovers 🧍‍♀️

user9: you’re going to be waiting a LONG time…

charles_leclerc: i think it’s time to give up on the idea them being friends mate 😢

lando.jpg: I SAY WHEN ITS TIME

user10: charles is just sick of getting caught in the crossfire 😭

user11: OMG IM NOT THE ONLY ONCE WHO NOTICES THAT ???😭😭😭

user10: NOO I DID TOOO!! it’s like every time oscar and y/n are having a glare-off charles somehow ends up right in between them

user11: AND THEN HE JUST STANDS THERE LIKE 🧍‍♂️

maxverstappen1: just lock them in a room and let them fight it out 🤷

lando.jpg: wait a damn minute…

yourusername: LANDO NO.

oscarpiastri: absolutely not.

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alex_albon, and 502,528 others!

yourusername: p2, and now movie night in max’s movie theater <33

view comments below!

user12: cutting oscar out of the photo is DIABOLICAL WORK 😭😭

user13: oh to be y/n l/n :((

user14: y/n is literally living the DREAM

user15: the way y/n made SURE you could see that she cut oscar out of the photo

yourusername; i have no idea what you’re talking about ?? 😓😓

oscarpiastri: get off your phone and watch the movie 🙄

yourusername: stop staring and me and watch the movie 🙄

user16: clock it y/n!!!!!

landonorris: did you really have to crop out oscar?

yourusername: yes!

user17: landos trying so hard 😞

user18: they’re all having a movie night 😞😞😞 ??

user19: I SHOULD BE THERE 💔💔💔💔💔

maxverstappen1: this movie is so funny!!

yourusername: it’s brokeback mountain?

maxverstappen1: and it’s hilarious! 😂

user20: MAX WATCHING BROKEBACK MOUTAIN ??!?!??

user21: max thinking brokeback mountain is funny is so him??

charles_leclerc: this movie is so sad 💔💔💔

yourusername: yeah charles we all see you crying :(

user22: charles crying over brokeback mountain is SO HIM!!

user23: is everyone just in there phones during the movie?? 😭😭

oscarpiastri: nope! just she who should not be named 🤷

yourusername: the unoriginality is disgusting!!

maxverstappen1: i’m going to, as the kids say, expose everyone. @/oscarpiastri has not stoped staring at y/n all night.

maxverstappen1: @/yourusername hasn’t stopped staring at a photo oscar on her phone.

this comment has been deleted.

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris has eaten 2 whole pizzas.

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc is crying like a baby.

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo keeps awkwardly laughing at the worst moments.

maxverstappen1: @/georgerussell63 keeps taking photos of his abs

maxverstappen1: @/lewishamiliton is secretly wiping away his tears

maxverstappen1: @/alex_albon has been whining about missing ‘his lily’ all night

maxverstappen1: @/carlossainz has gotten up to pee 10 times in the past HOUR

maxverstappen1: and @/logansargent has been hugging a teddy bear for the past 2 hours.

maxverstappen1: that’s what you ALL GET for not having MOVIE THEATER ETIQUETTE AND BEING ON YOUR PHONES.

yourusername: damn okay….

alex_albon: can you go get me my jacket in the closet? i’m kinda cold 🥶🥶

yourusername: yeah sure? 😭

user24: something’s brewing..i can feel it.

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri can you go get me my beanie in the closet? my ears are cold

oscarpiastri: yeah sure

— 3 minutes later!

— 7 minutes later!

— 2 hours later!

— y/n has posted new pictures!

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, and 629,628 others!

yn.jpg: max’s door didn’t stand a chance against MY muscles 💪(ft, jimmy the cat♡♡)

view comments below!

user25: oscar in the likes?????

user26: wait a minute…

maxverstappen1: don’t worry i won’t make you pay for it 😚

yourusername: you locked me in a room with oscar. i wasn’t paying either way.

maxverstappen1: FINE. 😒😒😒

user27: did she just…say oscar name?

user28: in the whole YEAR oscar and y/n have known each other, y/n has NEVER said his name WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

user29: something happened in that closet

landonorris: hello, i am lando norris, and i would like to publicly apologize for locking my dear friends (especially yn) in a closet. it was stupid and inappropriate of me. i hope to gain back their forgiveness.

user30: did y/n make you do this?

landonorris: no… (yes pls help she’s locked me in my room and won’t let me out)

yourusername; i’ll let you out once you’ve learned your lesson.

oscarpiastri: nice kitty.

yourusername: thanks!

georgerussell63: um, what the fuck is this?

charles_leclerc: maybe management took over oscar’s account?

oscarpiatari: no? it’s me?

charles_leclerc: oh! then what the fuck is this?

user31: something DEFINITELY happened in that closet. why are oscar and y/n actually being civil????

landonorris: i don’t know but it’s scary.

yourusername: do i have to confiscate your phone too?

landonorris: no! Sorry i’m learning my lesson 😞

carlossainz: hahaha 😂lando is such a loser

yourusername: do i have to take your phone to carlos? 🤨

carlossainz: NO, no i’m sorry 😔

user32: is it finally happening?…the enemies to lovers we all wanted 💔💔

user33: your telling me landos plan actually worked and y/n and oscar are being civil now ??

user34: dare i say…oscar and y/n would be a cute couple

danielricciardo: why are you and piastri being cool with each other?

yourusername: isn’t this what you all wanted??

danielricciardo: yeah…i guess we did…didn’t we?

landonorris: I KNEW IT WOULD WORK!!

yourusername: you’re still in trouble, come give me your phone.

landonorris: okay 😞

— oscarpiastri has posted new photos!

liked by yourusername, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 727,918 others!

oscarpiastri: second date, kinda nervous. (she taught me that)

view comments below!

landonorris: second date and already making it instagram official? You’re so whipped 😒

oscarpiastri: didn’t you want us to get along better?

landonorris: yeah, GET ALONG, not GET TOGETHER 😒😒

user35: GET TOGETHER??? EXCUSE MEEEE

user36: THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS!!! IT HAPPNED IT FUCKING HAPPENED. FUCK EVEYONE WHO TOLD ME I WAS DELUSIONAL FOR SAYING THIS WOULD HAPPEN. GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT?? ME! I WAS!

user37: did i just step into a parallel universe where y/n and oscar are dating? because what the actual fuck is going on

maxverstappen1: 😨.

user38: SEE!! EVEN MAX IS ASTONISHED

user39; the period after the emoji is KILLING ME 😭😭

georgerussell63: Is that Y/n????? @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: no? it can’t be?

yourusername: it is

charles_leclerc: AHHHHHHH

georgerussell63: AHHHHHHHH

user39: we did it ladies and gentlemen…after one whole year, the enimies to lovers has finally happened 🥲🥲🥲

landonorris: WE??? NAH BABY ME!! ALL ME!!

yourusername: heart heart

maxverstappen1: 🤨

lewishamilton: 🤨

georgerussell63: 🤨

landonorris: 🤨

logansargent: 🤨

charles_leclerc: 🤨

schecoperez: 🤨

danielricciardo: 🤨

carlossainz: 🤨

yukitsunoda0511: 🤨

fernadoalonso: 🤨

totowolff: 🤨

mclaren: 🤨

yourusername: OMG HE BOUGHT ME A REPLICA OF THE SHIRT HE RUINED, I FORGAVE HIM OKAY???

user40: only the seconds date and he’s already posting her?? oh he’s obsessed.

oscarpiastri: well, yes!

user41: 3 days ago they hated each other so much??? what happened???

yourusername: i’m a really good kisser

user42: DO YOU GUYS TGINK THEY KISSED IN THE CLOSET???

user43: maybe we do have lando to thank…

. . .

notes: one of the longest smau’s i’ve done! reminder that comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated <33

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss him with chocolate lips

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @biillys

word count: 1,837

warnings: swearing, some sexual references/themes, allusions to sexy adult things, play-fighting, reader and billy being in love and that love language is being little shits to each other (also acts of service), smooching and one use of the word saliva

synopsis: you decide to bake cookies, and billy decides he must be included, but you’d never let your cookies perish in return for an insatiable man.

a/n: hii!! i came up with a few lines of dialogue for billy a little bit ago, and then they just sat in my notes app because i couldn’t think of what to do with them. halfway through writing this, something i wanted to be sweet and silly, i felt lost and didn’t know how to end it or where to go with it, and started looking for inspiration. but then it came to me! and i’m very happy with how this turned out. i hope you like it! happy reading <33

————

Your hands are buried wrist deep in cookie dough, because you got sick of the shitty spatula not doing its job. 

You keep folding it in and over itself, trying to get all the chocolate chips and dry ingredients properly combined. You feel like the cookies just don’t turn out right if you don’t get in there and make sure it’s the way it’s meant to be. 

You reach over and grab a handful of mini chips to toss in your mouth. You have this mixture of regular size ones, minis, and chunks that you swear by. 

“You missed the bowl.”

A pair of large, warm hands slide over your waist, pinkies grazing over that spot where your pelvis dips because they know that’s your ticklish spot and just want to see you squirm. 

“Fuck off, prick.”

Billy smiles into the soft and slightly sweaty skin of your neck, peppering kisses in a trail from your collarbone to your earlobe. You nudge him with your shoulder, trying to ward him off. 

He licks a stripe up the back of your neck. And if you weren’t making an effort to look annoyed by his presence, your eyes might’ve just rolled back into your head. 

Instead you let out a sort of strangled howl to emphasize your agony. You are busy, after all. Making cookies you know he’ll eat before you can have any for yourself. You’ll have to hide some this time. 

You elbow Billy in the stomach, but his hands never leave your hips. He’s chuckling lightly, enjoying every minute of teasing you and being the biggest nuisance he can be.

“I should castrate you,” you say, rubbing your nose with your forearm to avoid spreading cookie dough all over your face. 

Billy laughs into your neck, the tip of his nose cold against your warm skin. “Oh, but you like that part of me too much, baby.”

You scoff. “Dick.”

He places a finger on your chin so that you’ll meet his gaze. “Exactly.” 

“I hate you,” you say, your eyes boring into his and saying anything but. They’re practically twinkling just looking at him. 

He hooks another finger under your chin and coaxes you closer, “I know,” he smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that tastes like chocolate chips. 

The flavor being on his mouth makes you pull away in shock. You put your hands on your hips and feign being absolutely appalled and ashamed.

“You come in here, on my ass, when yours has been fillin’ up on chocolate for how long?” You raise up on your tippy toes, trying your best to get in his face. He bends slightly to make it easier for you. 

His gaze drags over each of your pretty features in that way he knows gives you goosebumps. “You think you just get to eat ‘em all or something?”

You press your hand to his chest. “I bought the damn things, Hargrove. And I think, as the woman making the cookies, I’m entitled to eat as many chocolate chips as I want.” 

Billy leans in again and kisses you, but this time it’s slow, too slow, and sensual. The kind that feels like it lasts forever but in reality was a few seconds. One that really should last forever. It makes your brain go all fuzzy.

He drags his hand up your spine and pulls back. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Your stomach flips, your blood rushing to all the important parts of your body because he knows just what buttons to push and you despise him for it. Cocky little shit. 

“Now look who can use his manners,” you say, your voice taking on a sing-songy lilt. Billy grins at you, biting his lip, and then returns to his place behind you. 

You both settle down, quieting and melting into each other's presence. Billy watches over your shoulder as you pour in more chocolate chips. He knows you always hate it when people cheat you out of your chocolate. 

“I need a tray, B, can you get one for me?”

He pats your ass and moves to the designated cabinet without answering. He rips out a sheet of parchment paper without you having to ask. You always say that the bottoms don’t burn as easily that way, or you quote something from a cooking show you watched on tv that morning. 

He brings the cookie sheet back to you and then pushes up so he’s sitting on the counter next to you, bare thighs pressing into the cold stone. 

You pass him the rest of the chocolate chips to snack on and bend to kiss his knee. He blushes. You’ve been together for a few years now, but each time you give him affection in small, uncommon ways, it makes him feel like teenage boy. 

Billy watches you separate the dough into even-ish chunks before sliding it all into the oven. He tilts his head back and tosses the rest of the chocolate chips into his mouth before hopping down from the counter. 

He grabs your hips when he sees you move toward the sink. “Uh, uh. Go sit, mama. I’ll take care of it.” He knows you’re going to push back, and before you can he picks you up and places you in the living room. 

You let out a small huff and walk right back to your starting point. There aren’t even that many dishes to wash anyway, but what’s the fun in cooperating with him?

“Billy.”

“Hm?” He’s squeezing soap all over the dishes you’d already pre-rinsed. 

“Go sit your pretty ass down and let me do this.” You hear him laugh over the sound of the tap running and roll your eyes. He feels it. And he ignores you, squeezing out a sponge. 

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull, trying to lift him up the way he had with you just moments before. You manage to heave him up just enough that his toes leave the tile and he cackles at your effort to be such an adorable irritant.

He looks at you over his shoulder, your brow creased in concentration, the tip of your tongue sticking out just slightly. “How’s that workin’ out for ya, princess?”

“It’s not my fault you’re so big and heavy and strong.”

His ego practically skyrockets, his brain picking out any bit of flattery you’ll offer him. 

“Big and strong, huh?”

You cross your arms and spin around, hiding your wide smile before he can catch a glimpse at it. At how pleased you are to have riled him up. You let out a little petulant “Hmph!” and start to pad away. You know what’s coming though, and you try to pick up speed before you can be captured. 

Billy’s arms are around your thighs in seconds. He’s managed to turn you around and lift you up, throwing you over your shoulder like it’s nothing, like this is a normal daily task. “I’ll show you big and strong, pretty baby.”

You beat playfully on his lower back, fighting off a fit of giggles. “Billy! Put me down motherfucker!” He’s laughing too, all too pleased with himself for being able to get you like this. 

He pulls you down so you’re hanging onto his front and starts maneuvering you onto the couch. Your every nerve ending lights up when you feel Billy’s hand at the crown of your head, cradling you as he sets you down. 

The gentle manner in which he handles you does not correlate to the way he kisses you. 

Billy settles between your legs, grabbing your arms and coaxing them around his neck. He’s giving you a job, giving you instructions, and it makes your brain go quiet. Honing in on him, and nothing else. He’s all you can see, all you can smell, all you’re capable of thinking about. 

One of his hands slips beneath your t-shirt and settles against the dip of your spine, allowing him to pull you upward, allowing him to mold your body to his without you even having to put in the effort to arch your back and meet him. 

The other slips into the hair at the base of your neck, fingernails scratching over your scalp to get the goosebumps going, the heel of his hand rubbing determinedly at your skin, massaging it and reveling in the heat radiating off of you. 

Each time you try to say something, Billy kisses you harder, laughing into your mouth. He’s getting sloppy, losing himself in the taste of chocolate and lip balm and you. 

He sucks on your bottom lip, nips at it with his teeth, and it makes you let out a small, quiet moan. Billy slaps your thigh and you pull his hair. He groans, loud and unashamed. He shoves his knee in between your legs, meets the hottest, softest part of you and—

The timer on the microwave goes off.

Your cookies are finished. 

You pull back from Billy’s warm mouth, because you can’t let your cookies burn. What kind of monster would you be, letting cookies perish for a man? Absolutely not. 

His lips are still in a pout and there’s a string of saliva connecting the both of you. 

Instead of laughing like you want, you groan, “Oh dear Christ, ew, Billy.”

While he’s processing that you just said “ew” to him, you slide out from underneath his arms and race to pull the finished cookies from the oven. 

You’re carefully picking each cookie up and setting them on a cooling rack so they’ll become edible—without burning the skin off the roof of your mouth—sooner rather than later. 

Billy finally appears in the kitchen and puts a hand against the counter. His brow creases like he’s just been told something very serious, though his mussed hair and flushed cheeks say otherwise. 

“Did you just say ew to me, baby?” An evil smirk starts to appear on his face and he closes in on you. “You definitely don’t think it’s gross when I spit on your—” 

You shove a warm cookie into his mouth before he can finish that sentence. His face takes on a comical expression of his surprise, but he happily chews on the melting chocolate chips you’ve provided him with. He does like the warm cookies the best. 

You reach for a towel to clean off his face, but he moves too fast. 

Billy is kissing you all over, your neck, your collarbones, your cheeks and forehead. He’s doing his damndest to get chocolate all over you as payback for your teasing little attitude. 

“Billy!” you squeal, giggling and shrieking with joy. 

“Take it back! Take back that fucking ew, princess, and you can go!” He’s cackling, tickling your sides. 

“Okay, okay! I love your nasty ass, I do! Let me go!”

He removes his fingers from your hips and starts to wipe off your face with a wet cloth while you both catch your breath. 

“Damn right you do.”

————

tagging: @clovermunson (i got you bestie)

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[amethystwrytes]

Of Course, Professor

Pairing: Law Professor!Lee Know x Female Reader

Genre: Smut. Romantic-ish. Basically just porn with a hint of plot tossed in so I don’t just keyboard smash sex stuff on the page and feel bad about myself. 18+.

Summary: The law professor everyone is scared of generously offers to help you with your school work.

Warnings: There is explicit language. There is explicit sex (oral, penetration, teasing, edging, cumshot). There is a Professor/Student relationship, and IRL I do think that’s super inappropriate BUT this isn’t real life and I promise everything is very consensual, there’s no like “give me sex and you’ll get an A” kinda stuff, so, it’s all very much in my own personal scope of comfort. I wouldn’t write anything I felt was yucky. If any of that rubs you the wrong way though, that’s totally fine, and this one isn’t for you which is completely okay.

A/N: So, once upon a time in my undergrad years I was determined to be a lawyer. For a solid academic year I changed my major to Paralegal Studies because I figured that would be a perfect foundation for law school (smart, right?). Except like, three months in I was miserable and hated everything about it and realized that it absolutely couldn’t be me. I ended up having a similar discussion with my academic advisor/professor - except I didn’t end up fucking them - not that professor anyway (kidding). I always wanted to write a story about that awful year, and now I have - kinda…sort of. With a twist of delicious Lee Know and forbidden love. Yum. 

“Can you stop please?” 

You look at the girl sitting next to you in class. Her name completely escapes you but her eyes are burning lasers at the pen you’ve been clicking nervously in your hands. 

“...Sorry…” 

You apologize and gently set the pen down on your desk. Professor Lee is taking his sweet time passing back the most recent term papers and you dig your nails into your palm in anticipation of your grade. 

To say you’re struggling in his Civil Procedures course is an understatement. In fact, you don’t seem to be doing well in any of the classes you’re taking this semester. The voices of your parents condescendingly telling you “Law School isn’t for everyone and that’s okay,” sound like they’re playing on repeat in an echo chamber. 

If you bomb this paper you’re out. You stayed up almost all night last night going over the pros and cons of dropping out. You went back and forth so long fighting with yourself that you fell asleep thinking about it, and when you woke up the only thing you could think of was letting the universe give you a sign. 

You had worked on your term paper for weeks, carefully piecing it together, you spent so much time in the library that you now know the TA who works at the help desk on a first name basis. So if you flunk it, there’s your magical sign.

“Ms. ___,” Professor Lee sets your paper face down on the desk - bad sign. He leans down just a tad, “Why don’t we meet in my office after class?” - even worse. 

“Yes, Professor,” you nod. You think about not even flipping the stapled monstrosity over, but curiosity gets the better of you. 

There it is, a painful 55% staring back at you in thick, blood-red marker. You spare yourself the trouble of pouring over the thinner red notes made in the margins of every page. You can’t help the tears of frustration that pool in your eyes. 

“Everyone enjoy your break and the time spent with your families, when we return we’ll begin our discussions on Summary Judgement, so please make sure you complete the reading outlined in the syllabus before we see each other again. Dismissed,” Mr. Lee nods and the ruckus of chairs against linoleum and exasperation fill the room. 

Mr. Lee’s office is four floors above the classroom, so you have a few minutes to spare - which you spend in the restroom crying, drying your eyes, then crying again. 

You’re dropping out of Law School. All that work, all that trying, all those late nights - and don’t even start on the amount of money spent on coffee and tuition and fucking textbooks and…you start sobbing again. 

“How did you do?” Seungmin asks when you emerge from the ladies room, his face immediately contorts into a painful frown at your red, puffy face, “That bad huh?” 

“I can’t really talk Seungmin,” you take a deep breath, “I’ve got to go meet Lee in his office before his next class begins.” 

“Fuck,” Seungmin frowns even more, “That man scares the shit out of me.” 

“Thanks,” you say, “That’s helpful.” 

“Sorry. We’re all heading to the Coffee House before everyone starts driving home for the break, do you want to come? After your meeting of course,” he asks. 

“Not today,” you shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 

He gives you a sympathetic look and your shoulder a tiny squeeze.

You stand outside Professor Lees office for a few moments, gathering yourself. Professor Lee makes everyone nervous. He’s a hard instructor, emotionless sometimes, so direct it’s painful, and it doesn’t help anyone that he’s also devastatingly attractive. He’s a giant walking slab of intimidation. 

You softly knock on the door and he looks up at you from over his glasses as he types something. 

“Ah, Ms. ___, there you are. Come, sit down,” he instructs and you slide through the doorframe and slouch in an old green armchair across from his desk. 

“Just give me one second,” he says slowly as he continues typing, “alright.” 

“I’m sorry sir, for the term paper, I should have done better,” you offer up, electing to go ahead and fall on your own sword.

“There’s no need for apologies Ms. ___, a waste of time in this kind of situation. I would like to speak to you about your grades this semester though. After I graded your term paper, I reached out to some of my colleagues - some of your other professors - and they all had similar reports to give me, can we talk about that?”

You sigh, fanning out your fingers over your thighs, “Please, Professor, you mentioned a moment ago about time wasters - and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time - I’ve decided to drop out of law school.” 

The defeat you feel just saying the words out loud to someone is enough to bring tears back, but you fight them off. You will not cry in Professor Lee Minhos office. Absolutely not. 

Professor Lee purses his lips and nods, “I think that’s probably for the best.” 

Your jaw drops, “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to do the opposite? To try harder or something?” 

“Miss ___, I fear if you tried any harder your hair might burn out from the roots,” he smiles and if you weren’t so shocked, you’d laugh at the first joke you’ve ever heard him utter. 

Before you can think of something to say, he produces a file folder from his drawers and smacks it on the table making you jump. 

“These are all the papers you’ve written for my class so far this semester. Your papers intrigue me Miss ___.” 

Intrigue? That’s a funny word to use for ‘disgusted and disappointed beyond imagination.’ 

“But you-,” you begin to point out that the highest grade he’s ever given you on a paper was a 68%. Far from intriguing. 

“But…as legal writing? They’re all absolute trash,” he tells you. “What intrigues me about them is the way you write, it’s quite good, every time I read one I feel like I’m in the room with a friend who’s trying to sort of explain law to me, the problem is you just don’t think, rationalize, or talk like a lawyer. I noticed in your transcript that your undergraduate degree was in education, and you had a 4.0 GPA. I can’t help but wonder, Miss ___, what career are you looking for?” 

“A…a lawyer,” you say in a quiet voice, staring at a knick on his desk. 

He looks skeptical as he leans back in his chair, “Why?” 

“Because…” oh fuck it all, you may as well just say it, “because my father, my mother, and my older brother are all lawyers, who went here.” 

“I see, so one could deduce that you wanted to be a lawyer because they wanted you to be one, they expected it of you?” he concludes. 

You smile comically, the truth is much more pathetic. 

“No, actually, they all told me I couldn’t do it. They told me I wasn’t smart enough, sharp enough, bold enough. I wanted to teach art to school children, but when that’s exactly what I elected to study, their comments started. I was just a private joke between the three of them, and I hated it, so I wanted to show them that I could be a lawyer.” 

“You came here to study law out of stubborn spite?” he reiterates. 

“Yes sir, I did,” you look at your lap and play with a rogue string from your sweater cuff. 

“That’s quite impressive, Miss ___, to go through all that trouble, strife, and money to do something you have no interest in just to best your family.” 

“Well when you say it like that I sound like a psycho,” you laugh timidly, trying to keep the sludge of humiliation down. 

“I don’t think you’re a psycho, I think you’re a bright woman who wanted to show her family they were wrong, but just ended up making herself miserable,” his expression is soft, almost understanding. “However, as your professor, I don’t think I could recommend continuing with law school. This is your first year, with first year level studies, and you’re struggling this much all for something you don’t even want, it will only get more difficult from here.” 

You nod, “You’re probably right sir,” you stand, “I should get to the admin office before they close for the break, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” you give him a respectful smile and grab your bag.

“Miss ___,” he motions for you to sit back down, “First of all, you’ve not wasted a single second of my time. Second, I don’t recommend dropping out right now, I think you should finish this semester at least.” 

“You just said…”

“I said I don’t think you should continue with law school, and I don’t. However, we’re past the official mid-point of the semester, the cut off to withdraw for a full refund of tuition was last week, if you go now you’ll never get that money back.” 

You plop back down in the chair, even more defeated, “I didn’t realize that,” you drag your hands down your face in frustration, “shit.”

Professor Lee chuckles, “I do have an alternative plan for you, if you’re willing to hear it and put in the work,” he offers. 

You sit up straight, “Yes, of course sir.” 

“I suggest you finish this semester, and I will help you - starting with rewriting your latest term paper. I’ll even try to assist you with some of your other courses, if you’d like. If we work diligently enough, you can finish this semester with an acceptable GPA, that keeps your academic record away from probation or academic expulsion,” he explains. 

“You would do that?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Well, of course, I am a professor after all. What sort would I be if I wasn’t willing to help my students?” 

“I don’t know what to say Professor,” you smile, “that’s too generous.” 

“It’s not a problem Miss ___. Now, let’s talk strategy, I assume you don’t plan on spending break with your family?” he guesses. 

“No sir, they’re too busy anyway, I plan on staying in my apartment off campus during the break,” you answer. 

“Splendid. This evening I have a night class to teach, but perhaps we could meet tomorrow? The library will be closed for break, but my students enjoy meeting up together at that coffee place downtown, uh, Coffee Shack or something,” he struggles. 

“The Coffee House?” you help him and try to hold back a grin.

“Yes, would you like to meet there, say, 1PM tomorrow afternoon? We can go over some of your papers together and I’ll help you with your legal writing technique,” he asks. 

“Yes, I’ll be there sir, I really can’t thank you enough, truly I appreciate this,” you tell him. 

“I look forward to it, Miss ___.” 

📖 ❤️

You adjust your backpack as you walk towards the Coffee House doors. You packed your laptop, all your text books, notes, and a few other things because you weren’t sure what Professor Lee would want to cover. The weight of it all is dragging you down and you have to hunch over a bit to balance it. 

“My goodness, here, let me get that for you Miss ___,” Professor Lee greets you at the door, he seems to have already picked a table near the front and grabs your bag with a grunt. “Did you pack your entire house?” he teases. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want me to bring, so I brought all my school things,” you laugh. 

“Well, I suppose it won’t matter that the library is closed since you brought it with you,” he chuckles and you take the seat beside him. 

“Should we start?” you open your laptop and power on. 

“I thought perhaps you’d like a beverage?”

“Oh,” you look behind you at the register, “Yes, I suppose we should caffeinate,” you smile. 

“What would you like?” He stands up and brings his wallet out. 

“Oh please sir, let me pay, it’s the least I could do for all of your help,” you beg. 

“Nonsense, as much as I love to argue Miss ___ I don’t see the point over a cup of coffee, what would you like? Are you hungry?” 

“No, I ate lunch before coming, just a latte for me, small,” you concede, “and thank you…again.” 

He smiles and departs from the table. You watch him in the line from where you sit. Seeing Professor Lee like this feels…different. In a less formal setting he’s almost approachable, and you’re starting to see things about him that you don’t in class. Like his generosity, and kindness, the man even has a sense of humor and you think of texting Seungmin about it but stop yourself. You want to keep this all a secret. You don’t want anyone knowing that you’re in such desperate need of assistance with your courses, but also you want to keep this side of Professor Lee to yourself. 

You could think of worse ways to spend your Saturday afternoon than with an attractive law professor who’s willing to help you pass your classes. You wonder if he’s aware that all his students find him so hot, or if it’s something that’s never occurred to him. He doesn’t wear a ring on any of his fingers, which tells you he isn’t married, but that doesn’t mean he’s single. You can’t imagine that he’s not seeing anyone. In class he’s usually got on some academia aesthetic looking suit on, lots of tweeds and browns - today he wears a fitted pair of jeans, and a navy sweater with a white collared button up fashioned underneath, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. His jet black hair isn’t styled like it usually is in class, and hangs long and loose around his face. He looks like such a boyfriend…

You blush and go back to focusing on your laptop. What the hell was that? He’s your professor. Which is actually kind of enticing…

You press your lips together and roll your eyes at yourself. Stop with the intrusive sexual thoughts about Professor Lee - the man is trying to save your ass, not spank it - having inappropriate daydreams, no matter how justified they may be, is unacceptable. 

“Here we go,” he comes back to the table and sets two mugs on the surface as he takes his seat again. 

“Thanks,” you smile politely, trying not to look at him. If you don’t look at him, maybe you won’t think about how cute he is and instead focus on what you ought to be: your failing grades. 

“So, let’s start with the main issue of your papers. Writing, in the legal sense, is cut and dry. It’s all about facts, findings, and nothing expressive or personal, which is where you seem to have the most trouble,” he begins and you try to absorb the information instead of noticing the way his lips look while sipping his coffee. 

This endeavor may be harder for you than just pulling your grades up. 

📖 ❤️

“I think that was a very productive first meeting,” he says optimistically as you start piling things back into your backpack. 

“I think so too,” you nod. Productive, yes - but now the real work begins and you’ll have to go home and actually re-write the damned thing. 

Professor Lee carries your backpack out the door, “Where’s your car?” 

“Oh, it’s at home, I just live a few blocks away,” you point in the general direction of your apartment. 

“You mean to tell me you carried this while walking from your house?” he holds the backpack with two hands for dramatics and you giggle. 

“It’s not that terrible, how long has it been since you were carrying books around, Professor? Surely you remember the struggle,” you tease. 

“I suppose it’s been a bit, here,” he reaches in his pocket and the SUV beside you beeps, he opens the passenger door, “I’ll drive you home so you don’t have to endure the struggle.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that sir,” you shake your head. 

“It’s fine, it’s a small college town Miss ___, I can get literally anywhere in less than five minutes, especially since the majority of students are gone this week. Let me be chivalrous for you,” he smiles and you melt a little bit. 

“Well, if you insist,” you look up at him as you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I do,” he closes the door, then places your bag in the backseat before coming around to the drivers side. 

“Are you always this difficult, Miss ___? Or are you just trying to be overly polite because I’m your professor?” he asks when you point him down the street towards your apartment. 

“Difficult, sir?” you look at him wide-eyed. 

“Mmhmm,” he nods, “You didn’t want me to buy your coffee, you nearly refused my ride home electing to carry a small library on your back while you walk,” a look of panicked concern washes over his face and he looks over at you, “This isn’t making you uncomfortable in any way is it? Being alone with me?” 

“No! No, absolutely not,” you assure him, though you wager that your thoughts about him would certainly make him uncomfortable. “I’m just so incredibly grateful for your help, and you continue to go out of your way for me. It’s just never something I…” you stop yourself. 

“Never something you what?” he presses. 

You laugh awkwardly, “It’s just not ever something I expected from you, given your reputation with the other students.” 

“Ah, yes,” he sucks his teeth, “My reputation of being an uptight jerk who doesn’t like anyone.” 

“I would never use those words sir,” you tell him. 

“You might not, but I have the internet too, I’ve seen the threads about me on social medias,” he shares. 

“You read those?” your voice raises at least three octaves. 

“Of course, I’m only human, curiosity gets the best of me from time to time.” 

“I don’t participate in those conversations,” you shake your head, “I understand that it’s only natural for students to want to know about the personalities of their upcoming professors, but the bias that occurs in those threads is absurd.” 

“I agree, though sometimes they can be helpful, to my ego at least,” he laughs. 

“How so?” you wonder, because you don’t remember seeing anything about his classes online that would feed his ego. 

“Some of my students may not like my personality, but they like looking at me,” he grins. 

“Professor Lee! That’s scandalous,” you laugh and playfully smack his shoulder. 

“What?” he laughs with you, “I’ve got to take something positive from it! 75% of those comments are atrocious, but I’m quite proud that I scored three hot peppers on the professor hotness scale.”

“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth, “I cannot believe I’m sitting in your car having this conversation,” you giggle. 

“Is this your building?” he points. 

“Yes, it is.” 

He parks on the street and you take a deep breath when he exits the car. He knows his students think he’s hot, and now he knows that you know he knows. You pat yourself on the back for indicating you’ve never participated in those threads before the conversation took a turn towards hot peppers. Though you are 100% guilty of voting for his peppers. 

He opens your door, hanging your backpack across his shoulder. 

“I’ll walk this up for you,” he offers and you swallow hard. 

“Sure,” you smile, your heart pounding out of your chest. Professor Lee Minho is about to see the inside of your apartment. You try to recall the state you left the place in. You remember doing your dishes before you left, but that’s about the only productive thing you can remember doing today. 

You unlock your door and flip the lights on. Your art supplies are everywhere, and you have a bag of laundry by the door because you plan on hitting the laundromat this evening. In trying to move it out of the way you knock it over, a pair of your underwear spilling out onto the floor right at his feet as he walks through. 

“Jesus,” you mutter, humiliated, as he looks down at you grabbing up the black lace thong and shoving it back into the bag. 

To your utter relief, he says nothing about your undergarments. He sets your backpack down and looks around.

“Can I offer you anything to eat or drink?” 

“Did you do all these?” he walks forward into the room towards the area you dry your paintings in. Canvas after canvas sits up against the wall, some completed, most unfinished. 

“Oh, yes,” you say, walking up beside him, “This semester has been really frustrating for me, and painting helps.” 

“Well, they’re beautiful, truly - you’re quite talented,” he looks down at you, “I can see why teaching art is a passion for you, you’ve certainly got quite a knack for it.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

“Teaching is very rewarding,” he adds, “I think that you should pursue your original dream Miss ___. You’ve clearly got a lot to offer the world,” he smiles down at you and you catch his gaze, a few quiet seconds pass as you look into his dark eyes. 

“You could just call me by my first name, ___, if you wanted,” you say softly, “and um, thank you, for complimenting my art.” 

“You’re very welcome, ___,” he responds, staring at you again. You watch his eyes flit down to your lips and your heart speeds up again. He suddenly clears his throat and looks back at the paintings, “I think we should make the most of the week, since classes aren’t meeting, this is a perfect time for you to catch up with your studies. Tomorrow is Sunday, which is the day I typically devote to catching up on grading, and I do have midterm grades to enter. Perhaps Monday?” he asks. 

“Monday, yeah. That works, um, I have a shift at work on Monday morning, but I’ll be free after 3PM.” 

“Perfect, we could meet at the Coffee House again, around 4:30?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Great,” he begins walking back to the door, “and, um, while we’re together - working on your coursework I mean - feel free to call me Minho. However when classes resume, it’s probably best to address me as Professor Lee.” 

“Of course, Professor,” you agree. “Thank you, er…Minho…for everything today.” 

“You’re most welcome,” he opens the door then pauses, turning his head slightly in your direction, “Nice panties, by the way. See you Monday!” 

You stand there, speechless, staring at the closed door. 

📖 ❤️

Monday afternoon you can’t help but notice that Professor Lee - Minho - sits closer to you at the table in the coffee shop as he helps you study for one of your other classes. You don’t blame him, truth be told, you spent over an hour after your shift at the bookstore getting ready, hoping he’d look at you the same way he did Saturday. You are, without a doubt, down bad. To impress him even further you’ve got a surprise for him.

“I re-wrote my term paper,” you blurt as the two of you are clearing up the table after studying. 

“Already?” he looks at you. 

“I worked on it all night Saturday, and most of the day on Sunday. Do you want me to email it to you?” 

“Absolutely,” he smiles, “Good girl.” 

Fuck off, he did not just say that. You bite down on your lip and your thighs press together as you bring up your student email. You attach the file and send it to him. 

“It should be in your inbox the next time you check,” you say…like a good girl. Swoon. 

“Great, um, I was wondering - and just tell me to shut up if you want to - but I was wondering if you had plans this evening?” 

Your heart grows wings and begins to fucking fly. 

“No,” you shake your head, “I have zero plans for a Monday evening in a town that’s practically shut down.” 

He chuckles, “Right. So, would you want to join me for dinner maybe?” 

You at least pretend to mull it over instead of just shouting YES in some unflattering, desperate tone. 

“Where were you planning on eating?” you ask. 

“There’s a really nice place I like, it’s about a twenty minute drive out of town, but the food is impressive, never had a bad dish there,” he shares. 

“I am hungry,” you say, “I’d love to.” 

“Good, shall we?” 

📖 ❤️

“Are we celebrating anything special this evening?” the waiter asks as he sets two glasses of water down, “A first date? An anniversary perhaps?” 

“No.” 

Both of you answer him at the same time, and try to hold your laughter in when the poor man looks taken back. 

“Okay,” he says, “Can I get you all anything to drink from our wine or cocktail menu?” 

“I’ll have a glass of this pinot, chilled, please,” you point to the wine and the waiter writes it down. 

“I’ll have the same,” Minho smiles. 

“I’ll get those right out.” 

Minho bites his lip and stares down at the tablecloth, you frown. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “I’m just trying to remind myself that nothing inappropriate is happening here, I’m having dinner with one of my female students, but you are an adult and so am I and it’s fine.” 

“I won’t be your student after this semester,” you point out, “I don’t know if that’s helpful or not though.” 

“It is,” he nods, then tilts his head, “yet somehow I still feel like I’m misbehaving.” 

“It’s only food, how is that misbehaving?” 

“It’s not what I’m doing,” he bites his lip again and looks up at you, “It’s what I’m thinking.” 

You take a sip of water, your body practically vibrating with curiosity, “What is it that you’re thinking, exactly?” 

“Things that I shouldn’t be thinking about my student,” he says quietly. 

“This isn’t high school, Professor, this isn’t even undergrad. Don’t be harsh on yourself, I’m sure whatever you’re thinking about isn’t a bad thing,” you point out, hoping you sound cool and collected and not like you’re ready for him to take you right on this table. 

“So if I was thinking about fucking you after class in my office, across my desk, that wouldn’t be a bad thing?” 

You nearly choke on your water. Before you can respond the waiter returns with your glasses of wine, not a moment too soon. 

“I’ll let you guys look over the menu and come back in a few minutes.” 

You clear your throat once the waiter is gone, “I think fucking me on your desk would probably be inappropriate,” you smile, “especially to your neighboring colleagues. I have quite a mouth on me,” you say, opening your menu. 

You can feel him staring at you. “I’d very much like to hear it.” 

“Maybe you will, I guess we’ll see,” you shrug. 

The smile that spreads across his face is so dangerously mischievous, your clit throbs where you sit and you shift uncomfortably, only making it worse. 

📖 ❤️

The sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife as you make your way back to his car. You reach for the door handle, but he grabs your arm and spins you around, your back pushed up against the door. 

His lips crash against yours, arms caging you in which is completely fine by you. You bury your fingers in his hair on either side of his head but he pulls away. 

“I want it to be clear I have never had any kind of sexual relationship with a student, ever,” he says quickly, then his lips are against yours again. 

“I believe you,” you manage between lips and tongues. 

He pulls away again, “And the only reason I’m pursuing this is because I can’t fucking resist you and you’re not going to be my student again after this semester,” he adds, then more kissing. 

“Got it,” you mumble into his mouth. 

Again he pulls away, “Seriously, even if you don’t quit law school I can never have you in class again, okay?” 

“Yes! Fuck that place, I’m done, and even if I wasn’t - I wouldn’t take you again, you’re an uptight jerk of a professor, remember?” you tease him, then desperately pull him back onto your lips. 

He shoves you harder against the car, his knee coming between your legs and you press yourself down on his thigh. You moan softly into his mouth and his hand smacks the side of the car. 

“Get in, fuck, please get in the fucking car.” 

He scrambles around to the drivers side as you jump in. 

“Your place or mine?” he asks, turning the ignition. 

“Which is closer?” you ask, pulling the seat belt so hard and quick that it locks up. 

“Uh…mine… mine I think.” 

“Then there’s your answer,” you tell him. 

Five minutes of him burning rubber down the highway is too long for you not to be touching him. You reach over and caress his thigh through his jeans, moving higher and higher until you find what you’re looking for in the darkness. 

He hisses as you stroke and massage his hard length through the fabric. 

You unbuckle your seat belt, “Are you as good a driver as you are a professor?” 

“I…why?”

You scoot as far as you can and lean over, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, sliding your hand through the opening of his boxers until you feel the warm, velvety skin of his cock in your fist. 

“Oh fuck…oh my fucking…” he pants, his knuckles turning stark white around the steering wheel. 

You unbuckle his seatbelt as well and help him get it out of the way before pulling his cock from the confines of his jeans. 

You stroke him a few times, then let a glob of spit drip from your lips onto him so you can continue stroking more comfortably. 

“God…” 

You take him in your mouth and suck, running your tongue over the tip. The way he’s nearly whimpering, eyes so wide on the road, delights you. You put your mouth on him again, taking him deep in your throat, taking turns stroking and licking. 

“I’m going to cum,” he whispers hoarsely after several minutes, “I don’t have anything to…” he looks around frantically but you shake your head, popping your mouth off of him momentarily. 

“I can take it,” you whisper, then suck him between your lips once more. You can feel the base of his cock twitch and brace yourself, spurts of hot cum follow seconds later and you take it all from him greedily, swallowing then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Holy shit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That was so fucking hot.” 

“Thank you,” you grin, pulling down the visor so you can fix yourself in the mirror. The “kiss proof” lipstick you wore today is evidently not “road head proof” and you clean up the edges of your mouth. 

He reaches over and grabs your hand in his, squeezing and rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb while he speeds down the road. 

📖 ❤️

The door to Minhos apartment isn’t even locked before he shoves you against it and presses his mouth to yours. 

“I want to make you feel so fucking good,” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck. He drops to his knees and unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs. You kick your shoes off so he can get the pants off completely. 

He looks up at you and grins, tracing the lines of the black lace thong that toppled over at your apartment, “I was wishing very much that I’d get to see you in these,” he says, pressing his tongue against the tiny bit of cloth. 

You gasp at the way his lips move, teasing and licking through the thin lace, “Are you really going to eat me out against the door?” 

“Mmm,” he moans against your clit and your legs jerk, “Yes,” he says hooking his fingers in the strings and pulling the soaking wet cloth down your legs. 

“No patience at all Professor, I’m shocked,” you tease. 

“So… you can call me Minho,” he smiles, kissing and licking trails back up your legs, “but in class and when I’m fucking your pretty pussy feel free to use Professor.” 

“Absolutely Professor Lee,” you rest your head against the door as his tongue wiggles between your slick. “Fuck!” 

He finds your clit and wraps his lips around, gently sucking. You lay one of your thighs over his shoulder and try to steady yourself while he laps and sucks you off. You grab his hair with your fingers and move with him, fucking his face and listening to the delightful slurping, wet sounds erupting through the quiet room. 

“Oh…just like that, right there,” you whine when he begins to softly lick the perfect spot, “fuckfuckfuck…yes!” you release his hair from your fist and hold yourself against the wall as your legs begin to quake, cunt throbbing in rhythmic spasms as he milks you with his lips. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, trying to stand straight. He finally gets around to locking the door then picks you up, carrying you down a hallway. He pours you onto the bed and you watch as he strips himself of clothing, you follow suit, though half your outfit is in his foyer. 

You lay back, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him crawl over you, positioning himself between your legs. 

“You’re sure this is okay?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, the head of his cock leaking against your open cunt. 

“Yes, fuck, yes I want you,” you assure him, nails digging into his shoulder. He makes a gruff noise deep in his throat and lines himself up with your opening. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push into you and he does, slow and deep. You both moan into each other at the sensation of it.  

Slowly he begins to move quicker, still deep, but urgently. The sound of skin against skin intoxicating. He sits up a bit, your hips coming with him and he grabs them, using you as an anchor to thrust into you. 

“Minho…” his name comes out as a whisper, your eyes screwed shut. “So close…” 

“No, no,” he tsks, slowing down and pulling himself out, pushing the head of his cock against your clit. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

He slides his cock against you until you start squirming beneath him, your clit still sensitive from his front door excursions. “Please? Fuck…” you whine loudly. 

“You want it?” he asks in a growl, stuffing himself inside you then pulling out again. 

“Yes! Yes! Please!” you cry, your nails scraping against the sides of his legs. 

“Are you sure baby?” he smirks, pushing into you and pulling out slowly several times. Your orgasm begins to build again and you meet his thrusts with your hips, chasing it. Until he pulls out again. 

“What are you doing?” you groan, half laughing and out of your mind. 

“Beg a little,” he urges, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock but pulling away every time you try to push against it. 

You snap your eyes open, the sight of him looking down at you makes you unhinged. “Please, Professor Lee, please let me cum,” you say it as sweetly and earnestly as you can muster. 

His eyes practically roll back in his head as he lines up with you again and pushes in deep, his hands fly back to your hips and he drags you on and off his cock until your vision goes white with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

“Sit up, please,” he begs breathlessly as he pulls away, stroking himself. You do as you’re told and watch as his lips part, his hand stills and shots of pearly strings shoot across your breasts. 

“Hold on,” he says when he can move again, then disappears behind a door, emerging a few moments later with a warm damp hand towel. He kisses you deeply as he cleans his cum off your chest. 

“That was so fucking good,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. 

“Yes,” he sighs, pulling you down beneath the blankets with him, “Yes it was.” 

He holds you close to him, your eyes getting heavier, “I think my books are still in your car. We could go over the paper on tort law I bombed over breakfast tomorrow?” 

He chuckles and nods, “It’s a date.” 

📖 ❤️

You sit in Professor Lees classroom as he passes back the latest exam. Term is almost over and everyone seems to be reeling with nerves around you. 

He slows beside your desk and lays your test down, “Much better, Miss ___, much better.” 

Seungmin looks over at your test, “Hey! Not bad,” he smiles cheerfully. 

“I’ve had a lot of help this semester,” you smile.

At the bottom of the last page you read the note of thin red ink,

See you at my place tonight?

The End

Endnote:

I am in my Lee Know slut era. I will not be taking questions about my worship of him at this time, thank you. As always, if you made it far enough to read this, please accept my virtual smooch.

Also as always this is unbeta’d bc that’s typically how I roll so it could be absolute trash but that’s okay bc we’re just having fun.

[cultven]

Butch Wolverine Headcannons

(General Headcannons and X Female! Reader)

This is sooooo indulgent, my mind is just taken over by her… Here are some head cannons I daydreamed up with my pussy 

Warnings: Some very very mild sexual implications

Female! Logan doesn’t shave. Like ever. Due to her animalistic properties, the hair just grows back in a matter of hours, so it’s not worth the upkeep. She occasionally tries her best for special events, but it’s always rendered useless. Plus, she knows you don’t mind anyway, it’s just so much work. 

Bras are her worst enemy. Occasionally she’ll fight in a sports bra, but you will never catch her in one of those frilly Victoria's Secret bras. Unless you ask, of course. Then she’ll gladly drop a small fortune on a cute little bra and underwear set just for you. 

Every month the day before her period her cramps hit her like a truck. Despite her advanced regenerative properties, her uterus seems to be the exception. Seeing her outside her room during this time is an accomplishment as she is practically bedridden. The only way she truly survives these times is due to your care and support. You provide all her favorite foods and offer her numerous heating pads and other soothing ointments. Female! Logan will never admit it, but she absolutely adores being babied by you. 

She is usually the big spoon, scooping you up in her muscular arms. She presses you firmly to her chest and sometimes, if you're lucky, lets you turn around and practically smother yourself in her tits while cuddling. It’s like a small dosage of heaven. Wolverine would pepper small kisses in your hair, smelling your sweet shampoo. 

Other times when she’s feeling particularly soft, she’ll allow you to embrace her from behind, acting as the big spoon. 

Her arm is always around you, no question whatsoever. She’s far from insecure in your relationship, knowing how loyal you are to each other, but she just loves flaunting you to others. This pretty little thing on her hip? Yeah, that’s her girlfriend. Jealous? You should be. At least that’s Female! Logan’s mentality. 

When it’s your turn to cling onto Female! Logan, it’s always onto her arms. You love feeling the hard and soft muscles flex under your fingertips. It always gets you going.

Female! Logan is not a fan of Scott Summers. Not in the slightest. The first time you came around Xavier’s to meet the other mutants he was instantly intrigued by you. Some light conversation led to flirting on his part. Usually, he’s smart enough not to mess with Female! Logan, but he hadn’t assumed the two of you were dating until he got a swift punch right along his jawline. From then on Female! Logan has assured you were never left alone in a room with Summers for longer than thirty seconds. 

Instead of adopting regular Logan’s alcoholism, Female! Logan tends to stay more on the side of smoking. Hand her a fresh pack of Marlboro Reds and she’ll reward you that night. ;)

Admittedly, she doesn’t smell great. It could be worse, but hygiene is not one of her top concerns. Every year as one of the smaller gifts you give her is a bottle of Bath & Body Works body washes, and every year you end up just using it yourself. She believes taking brisk showers is most effective, she doesn’t have time to slather herself in expensive products. You always wonder how her hair stays so fluffy. You suppose it’s just natural.

Speaking of her hair, you are OBSESSED. She has a short layered wolf cut with the classic ear tufts, which you’re pretty sure are natural since you never see her style them. If you’re ever having a rough night just pet and play with your girlfriend’s hair for a few minutes and you’re out like a baby. Sometimes you think she has you under a magical spell. 

Backtracking to showering, you end up showering together a lot. Female! Logan always happens to need to shower at the same time you do, but you know it’s her way of asking if she could join. Of course, the answer is always yes. Her mentality of quick showers immediately goes out the window when she watches you strip down and stand under the running water. The shower wasn’t the only thing wet at that moment.

After your extracurricular activities in the shower, the aftercare is always sweet and loving. Hot water falls over both your bodies as you rub each other's skin with soap lovingly. You scrub the shampoo into her scalp, she exfoliates your legs. Once you’re both done you immediately get into your pajamas and cuddle under a nice blanket, watching something until you’re both soundly asleep. 

Everyone at the mansion thinks you guys are so cute. They constantly tease Female! Logan for being able to snag such a positive, sunshiny girlfriend. She typically shrugs them off with a mean glare and a snarky comment back, but deep down she knows she’s truly lucky to have found someone as accepting and loving as you. Sometimes she doesn’t feel she’s worth the hassle, but you always find a way to reassure her. 

It takes a few years for Female! Logan to propose, mostly because of her insecurities as a mutant, but when she does you are instantly in shambles, bawling out your acceptance. 

Female! Logan never thought she would get married, especially not to a regular human. She never thought humans could ever fully understand and accept a mutant the way that you do. Additionally, she fears her lifestyle will get you hurt, something that haunts her nightmares. But after seeing your beautiful bright smile after she popped the question there was no doubt in her mind she needed you as her wife. 

A big wedding was never what either of you wanted. If she was being honest, Female! Logan would have been happy with just eloping, but you wanted to do something small and she could never say no to you. 

On a warm day in spring, the two of you finally wed, the other residents of the mansion applauding the two of you. It was a small crowd, only a few select friends, but it couldn’t have felt more perfect for the two of you. 

a/n: I could easily write more. Someone please request a oneshot with her (and also name ideas, I don’t want to keep referring to her as Female! Logan. I’m not sure if there is already an agreed-upon name for her.)

[literaila]

kid megumi and gojo definitely took bubble baths together while megumi washes his hair and satoru's just yapping about how much he loves reader

“megumi,” gojo says, not even bothering to knock on the door.

it’s the boys fault, really, for leaving it open in the first place.

megumi stills, brows furrowing as his hands stop foaming the soap in his hair. “gojo?” he asks, a bit disbelieving.

he might be going crazy—it’s not uncommon for sorcerers. and megumi barely thought he would make it to fourteen and here he is, so. he should probably tell someone about the hallucinations but—

“you got it,” gojo answers, predictably, sitting on the toilet seat. “i need to talk to you.”

megumi peaks his head around the shower curtain slowly, blinking a few times to make sure the man is really there.

but he is, grinning at the tiny bit of megumi he can see, tapping his fingers on his knees obnoxiously.

megumi points a hand towards the door. “this is an invasion of privacy.”

“megumi,” gojo gives him a bland look. “i’ve seen you naked.”

“that’s creepy.”

gojo sighs, hanging his head. “we’ve known each other for so long now, and you still don’t trust me.”

“you still haven’t given me a reason to. can’t this wait? or not happen? i don’t want to talk to you.”

yes, megumi is still hanging halfway out of the shower. yes, his hair is dripping water on the floor. no, he does not care—it’s gojo’s house anyway. he can fix the ruined floorboards.

“it’s about your mother.”

at that megumi blinks. “what’d you do?“

“i didn’t do anything.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, i’m sure,” gojo scoffs, reaching out to pull his ear—which megumi expertly deflects (he almost slips and dies in the process). “am i crying on the floor right now?”

megumi considers it. then he recalls the last time you and gojo had a fight. he had to check gojo’s pulse every time he walked past the couch.

“good point. what is it?”

“as you know, her birthday is coming up—“

“are you serious?”

“megumi.” gojo’s eyes are dubious, his voice is disapproving. “your mothers birthday is very important.”

megumi rolls his eyes. “i know. i mean, are you seriously asking me about this right now? im in the shower. there’s shampoo in my hair.”

gojo nods very seriously. “it’s the only place she won’t hear.”

“she’s not even home.”

“she’s hidden cameras, megumi, i know it.”

“no she hasn’t.”

gojo pouts. “i want it to be a surprise. she always finds out about her gifts before i can give them to her.”

“that’s because you tell her.”

“the suspense is too much. i need you to buy her something for me and hide it so i don’t know what it is.”

he sounds absolutely serious, which might be the worst part of that request, actually.

and when has megumi ever done gojo a favor?

“gojo,” megumi gives him a little smirk, tilting his head. “i’m not doing that.”

gojo groans, falling onto the floor. “c’mon, megumi, we’re supposed to be friends.”

“you’re my teacher, if anything.”

“and your father,” he juts his chin, “favoritism is not cute.”

“good.”

megumi finally turns around. gojo was never going to leave, even if he’d attempted to tackle him out of the door.

and he’s used to this, anyway. there hasn’t been a day in seven years that he’s gotten some peace.

“okay,” gojo begins again, sounding like he’s won—which he hasn’t. “i was thinking some jewelry, but you know how picky she is. and besides, she’s too rough for something small. tsumiki is already getting her that chibi mug we saw in that corner store last weekend, and whatever you’re getting is off of the table too.”

“i’m not listening to this.”

“i could take her out to dinner, but that’s not a gift. and i do that anyway. maybe i should buy her a car—what kind do you think she’d like? something blue, like my eyes—“

megumi groans.

gojo pauses. “did you get soap in your eye?”

honestly, banging his head against the wall might be better than this. at least they have pain killers at the hospital.

megumi doesnt answer, no longer entertaining this, but gojo continues anyway.

“maybe we should re-do the bathroom, you know how she’s always saying that—“

god, when will it end?

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: just a little behind the scenes of Colby and reader keeping their relationship out of the spotlight. 

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, secret dating, secret texting, secret flirting, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, oral (both rec), use of 'good girl', unprotected sex, general filth

Word count: 3.7k | not edited 

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You feel your phone vibrate in your lap, glancing up at Colby and the smirk on his lips tells you exactly who the texts is from. 

You look over at your friend sitting next to you, who's clearly deep in conversation with Sam, before flipping your phone over, you look so sexy in those jeans. They make your ass look so good. 

You chew on the inside of your lip, fighting back a smirk as you type back, They'd look even better on the floor of one of our bedrooms. 

You flip your phone back over and look up, joining in on the conversation as Colby reads your text, "Oh yeah, I've been to Paris this time of year. It's beautiful." 

"Yeah?" Sam raises his brows, "Then I say.. we all buy a plane ticket, I'll book the hotel, and we take a trip to Paris." 

"I'm so down for that." You nod, phone vibrating in your lap. As you go to flip your phone over, your friend next to you leans over, "Is he serious?" 

You lay your phone back down quickly and look at her, "Who? Sam?"

She nods and you laugh, "Oh yes. Sam is very serious when it comes to planning trips. I bet he's already looking at hotels." 

"Ah. Found one." He says leaning over to show Colby. 

"Told ya." You smile and she nudges you with her elbow, "Why don't you go after Sam? You seem to know him pretty well." 

You sigh, "I don't feel that way towards him." You look at her, "You know that." 

She tilts her head, "Yeah, but I feel like you've been single forever, I think Paris would be the perfect time for you to find someone, you know? Get out there." 

You roll your eyes, "I'm content with how my life is. I promise." 

You've been secretly dating Colby for a few months. 

You both are actually surprised that you've managed to keep your relationship secret for this long, almost five months to be exact. 

You both agreed that you liked the privacy aspect of it, also because Colby doesn't want your name being drug through the mud for just being with him. He's saving you from that for as long as he can. 

You both also agreed to not tell your friends just yet, because It keeps things exciting between the two of you. Kinda giving you both an adrenaline rush every time you try and sneak in a kiss or two when you get a few seconds alone. 

The late night drives when it feels like just the two of you, is just absolutely perfection. 

No one bothers you. You can talk for hours on end and just enjoy each other without people intruding in anyway. 

Your friend goes back to talking to the group and you take the chance to see what Colby said. You turn your phone away slightly, smirking at his text, Your roommate won't be home tonight right? So that means I can use the front door .. like a normal person? 

You tap the screen, tilting your head, I don't know, Colby Brock coming through my window is actually kind of hot. 

Your friend looks back over and leans over as you lock your phone quickly before throwing it into your lap. 

"Ohh.. I see." She leans in, "Got some sort of-" she lowers her voice, "-sneaky link going on, do we?" 

You laugh, shaking your head, "No. there's no.. sneaky link.." 

"Mm. Okay." She shakes her head, reaching for her glass, "So there is someone?" 

You take a sip from your glass, eyes moving to a smirking Colby, "No." you set your glass down, looking back over at him, "Just.. trying to get a brand deal. I don't want anyone to know until it's official, you know?" 

She raises her brows, "Y/n. That's great!" She pretends to zip her lips and throws the invisible key, "Your secret is safe with me." 

She smiles and turns to jump in on the conversation. Your eyes meet Colby's and he shakes his head slowly as he stares at you with a small grin. 

You look down at your phone, taking in a quiet, deep breath as your eyes scan over Colby's text, You know what else is hot? 

You glance up at him, then over to the group before responding, Do tell. 

You rest your phone down, reaching up to get a drink as Colby responds back. He stops when Sam looks over, "Do you want to go out with Jake and Johnnie tonight?" 

Colby thinks for a second, searching for a valid excuse, "I have to edit that video, and I-"

"He's going." Sam says into the phone with a nod, to who you assume is Jake on the other end. You look at Colby and he gives you the it'll be fine, look. 

You feel your phone vibrate and you look down, Don't worry babe. It doesn't matter. You're my girl, you get priority. I'm seeing you tonight. 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You grow more impatient as time goes on. 

You wanted Colby, and you wanted him now. 

When are you coming? 

You rest your phone on your chest and instantly get a reply from him, Soon, baby. You gettin antsy? 

You sigh, smirking as you type, you have no idea.

You see the bubbles pop up, I'll be there as soon as I can, I might just tell them I'm not feeling too good, but I'll be over as soon as I can get away.

You sit up, Is there anything I can do to get you here faster? 

You get up, walking to your bedroom. You set your phone down on the bed, slipping off your shirt and bra before walking over to the mirror. 

You bring your phone up, laying an arm over your bare chest and snapping a picture, typing out a text before you hit send, look at what you're missing out on. 

You stand there anxiously as you wait for a reply. 

You see the bubbles pop up and smirk as your eyes scan over his words, Don't tease me like that, baby.

You turn around, moving your arms a little bit further down, snapping a picture and typing out, I have no idea what you're talking about. 

You hit send, laughing slightly as you walk over to sit on the bed. Colby is taking a minute, so that must mean someone's around him. 

Finally, he answers, Fuck.. baby girl. I can't wait to get my hands on you. 

You move your arm away fully, leaving your breasts exposed as you send the picture with no text. 

You toss your phone down onto the bed and go to your dresser, digging through the drawer to find your never worn, red lace lingerie set. 

You strip down completely to slip on the sheer little number. You walk over to your closet, pulling out one of Colby's sweatshirts and slip it on. 

You walk over to your bed, moving to lay down as you pick up your phone. You smirk when you see Colby's text, I'm on my way.

You feel your heart rate pick up and you hold your arm up, moving the sweatshirt to reveal the little heart that's cut out oh the hip of your panties. 

You snap a picture of your body, Can't wait to see you. 

You hit send, moving over to unlock your window. You walk over, closing the door and locking it, just in case your roommate comes home unexpectedly. 

You stand there, exiting to finally have alone time with Colby.

The last few days have been rough, mainly because him and Sam have been meeting with people about exploring a haunted house nearby. 

You bring you phone up, smiling as you read Colby's text, That sweatshirt would look even better on the floor. 

You instantly move to take off the sweatshirt. You step infront of the mirror, posing for a picture to send to him, how's that? 

He's driving so it's a minute or two later that he gets back to you, leave it on. I'm taking that off of you. 

You smile, Deal. 

You move to sit in the middle of your bed, trying to patiently wait for Colby to arrive. 

It feels like hours until you finally get that, I'm coming up, text. 

You throw your phone to the end of the bed, rising up to sit on your calves. Colby's figure appears in the window and you bite your lip, watching intently as he steps through. 

He reaches behind him, eyes still on you as he closes the window, "Come here." He lunges to you, making you fall backwards onto the bed as his body is over yours. 

His lips attack yours before kissing down your neck. 

His hand travels up and down your side, gripping to pull you closer to him. Your legs wrap around his waist and he groans as you tug his hair. 

"Been thinking about being with you all fucking day." He mumbles into your neck as he leaves open kisses up it, "So fucking hot." 

He rolls, causing you to straddle him. His eyes rake up and down your body as his hands slide up your thighs. 

You lift your hands to brush hair off your shoulders, letting it fall down your back, "It feels like forever since I got to actually feel you." You lean down, "I've missed you." 

He tucks your hair behind your ear before sliding his hands to your ass, "I'm here now so you can do whatever you want to me." 

You smirk, "Okay." You move down his legs, a hand sliding down his stomach and slipping up under his shirt. 

You drag your nails over his skin and he gasps as he titles his head back slightly, "Don't tease me, baby." 

You smirk, moving your hands to undo his belt. You pull the leather strap from the metal buckle and unzip his pants, "couldn't make it easy for me, could ya?" 

Colby looks at you, tilting his head, "Maybe if someone wasn't sending me titty pictures and getting me bricked up, I would have." 

You tilt your head, "Now who would do such a thing?"

He lifts his hips so you can shrug his pants down. You slide your hands up his thighs, and over his achingly hard cock that's trapped behind the thin wall of his boxers. 

He lets out a groan, looking down at you. Before he says anything, you pull his boxers away, allowing his cock to spring free. 

He lets his head fall back as you lean in, pressing your lips to the head of it. Your tongue slips out, lapping it around the underside. 

A groan leaves his lips as his hips buck. He reaches down, pushes his boxers away and lays a ring cladded hand on your head, "Fuck, come on baby. Give me more." 

You smirk, keeping your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around the head, slowly working your way down.

He lays his head back, moaning out as he feels you bob up and down on him, your tongue sliding around each time you pause. 

His hand grips your hair, his breathing gets heavier, "So good." 

You bob your head a few more times before he reaches down, cupping your face to pull you off of him, "Get up here." 

You move up, straddling his waist. He reaches up, sliding his hand around your neck to grip and pull you down. 

Your lips crash onto his, moaning out as you feel his hand slide in between your thighs. He adds pressure to your clit, rubbing hard circles. 

You grind down onto his hand, "C-Colby." 

"You like that?" Colby whispers and you nod, brows furrowed, "Y-yes." 

He pulls his hand away, "Sit on my face." 

You look down at him and he nods for you to move up. 

You position yourself over your face and he reaches up, pulling your panties to the side and pulls you down. 

Your one hand instantly goes to his hair while the other one goes to press into the wall in front of you, "Fuck." You breathe out, "Sh-shit. Yes. Yes yes." 

You roll your hips, letting your head fall back, "Oh fuck." 

His tongue slips into you, working its way out them back in. He tilts his head back, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

You tug on his hair, earning another moan from him. 

Your head falls forward and you fight to keep your eyes open so you can watch him enjoy the taste of you. 

The sound of the front door slamming shut, causes you to freeze and look at your closed door, "Sh-it." You tap Colby's head, "My roommate." 

He lifts you up slightly, just enough for you to hear, "I'm not stopping." 

You're shocked at first, but that quickly subsides when his tongue slips back into you and his hands tighten on your waist. 

There's a knock on your door and the doorknob jiggles slightly, "Y/n. You in there?" 

"Y-yeah." You clear your throat quietly, trying to keep your voice steady, "What's up?" 

"Date was a total creep. Decided to ditch. Are you busy?" 

You glance down, "Um.. kind of.." you lay your hand over your mouth, tilting your head back as Colby continues to work you with his tongue. 

"Are you fucking someone?" She laughs slightly, "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I'll let.. you.. um.. yeah. Sorry. Ignore me." 

You hear her walk away and the tv in the living room switching on, turning up to a louder volume. 

You look down at Colby and laugh, "Oh my god." 

He nudges you, motioning for you to move and you do before he sits up. You look at him and cover your mouth to muffle your laughter. 

He laughs slightly before he leans in, "You were such a good girl." 

He smirks and kisses your forehead as his hands move up your back to undo your bra. He pulls the straps from your shoulders, down your arms and tosses the fabric to the floor. 

He dips his head down, kissing your neck. You let out a  quiet moan as he sucks a hickey into your neck. Your hands slide up his chest, gripping his shirt. 

He leans back, slipping off his shirt and tossing it before he pulls you into his lap. He keeps your panties pulled to the side as you sink down onto him, burying your face into his neck as you moan. 

Your arm wraps around his neck as you start to move, up and down, rocking your hip, anything to feel him inside of you. 

"Fuck." He breathes out as he lays back, hands tightly gripping your hips, "So fucking good." 

Your boobs slightly bounce with each of your motions. 

Your head falls back slightly as you squeeze his cock, whimpering out as he reaches up to pinch and pull at your nipples. 

"F-fuck." You gasp, wrapping your hand around his wrist. You look down at him, keeping your eyes on his. 

You lean down, lips on his and he swallows your moans easily as his hands slide around to hold you tight against him. 

He thrusts his hips upward, moaning lowly into your ear as he fucks you from underneath, "You feel so fucking good, baby girl. Fucking hell." 

You moan in response, your orgasm rolling in quicker and quicker, "F-fu-" you let out a long moan, unable to form words from all the pleasure that's consuming your body. 

"C'mon, baby. Cum for me." Colby coaches you, "You're so close." 

You nod once, pushing yourself up on his chest and moving your hips in a quick manor, "F-fuck. Fuck." 

You push your hips down and throw your head back, moaning as he picks up fucking you through your high. 

"That's it, that's my girl." Colby brushes hair from your face, cupping your cheek before sliding it down to your neck. 

He flips you onto your back, hand still on your neck as he continues thrusting. 

His grip tightens, squeezing the sides of your neck to slowly cut off your air supply. 

A muffle moan escapes as your eyes roll back. 

Colbys thrusts gradually turn sloppy and it's soon after, he pulls out, spilling his cum onto your waist. 

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to control your breathing for a few seconds. Colby lays next to you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, "So.. wanna go for a drive?" 

You laugh slightly, nodding as you look over at him, "I just gotta clean up first." 

He gets up, finding something for you to wipe off with, "Here, babe." You sit up slightly, taking the towel from him. 

"What am I gonna tell her?" You nod to the door and Colby shrugs, "Tell her whatever you want." 

You nod, "Okay I'll just... um.. maybe I'll just climb down the fire escape with you." 

Colby laughs, "You can't just leave her hanging, you gotta tell her something." You nod, "No. You're right." 

You stand up, slipping on the hoodie you stole from Colby and he smirks, "I like that."

You smile, "Thanks. You should see the guy I took it from." 

"Pretty cute?" Colby smiles and you nod, "Very cute." You laugh and walk over to change out of the lacy underwear into a regular pair before slipping on a pair of leggings. 

"Okay." Colby walks over, "I'll drive around and pick you up out front." You nod, "Okay. I'll be out when I can." 

He gently kisses your lips, "I love you." 

You smile, "I love you." 

You walk over with him, watching him climb out of the window and onto the escape. He smiles, giving you a small wave before he starts to descend down. 

You make sure he makes it to the bottom before you close and lock your window. You slip on your shoes and walk over to your door. 

You open it and to your surprise, your roommate is asleep on the couch. 

You quietly make your way to the door, grabbing your keys off the hook before walking out and running down to Colby's car. 

He leans over, opening the door for you and you get in, "She's asleep. I'll wake her up when I get back." 

Colby nods and lays his hand on your leg, "Where to?" 

You lay your hand on his, "Anywhere." 

After a few hours of driving around, you're parked in an empty parking lot, taking and kissing every now and then, just letting it be nothing but you two and the stars. 

"So I was thinking about telling Sam, mainly because he's going to want to know why I just up and left guys night." Colby laughs slightly and you look at him, "Wait. You just-" 

Colby nods, "When your girlfriend is sending you titty pictures and causing you to get a boner in a room full of guys, you'd leave, too." 

You laugh, "Sorrrryyy." 

He pinches your chin gently, "Nah. It's okay. I'm not complaining." 

You smile, leaning your head back on the headrest. You bite your lip, reaching up to write on the fogged up windshield. 

I, you draw a heart, then write you. 

He squeezes your hand, "You have no idea how much I love you." He brings your hand to his lips, pressing them to it, "I know being a secret is a lot harder than being public but I just.." 

"Colby. I understand. I've been around you and Sam for long enough, I know how your fan base can be, but in reality.. if anyone wants to drag my name through the mud for loving you.. then I don't consider them fans." 

He smiles, and leans over to you, "You're right." 

You smile, "I know." You laugh and peck his lips. 

"Speaking of Sam.. The other day, he almost found out about us." Colby looks over at you and you tilt your head, "Oh?" 

Colby smiles, "You just.. you have this thing about you, even when you're not around, that just makes me smile like a fucking idiot every time I see something that reminds me of you and he asked why I was so giddy and I almost said your name." 

You smile, "What did you see?" 

He laughs slightly, "I saw duck, and when it walked by the one bush.. the leaf on the bush looked like it was wearing a hat and I just knew you would find that hilarious." 

You laugh, "Oh my gosh, that's so funny." You nod, "You know me so well." You smile and run your hand through his hair, "Maybe we should tell Sam." 

As Colby pulls his phone out, headlights from a car shine onto Colby's and they get brighter the closer they get. 

"Oh shit." Colby mumbles and you look at him, "do you know who that is?" 

Colby nods, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Yeah. I do." 

The car whips around Colby's and pulls up next to the drivers side. Colby rests his hand down and puts his window down. 

You lean forward, watching as the window of the other car goes down. 

Not only do you see Sam in the drivers seat, but Jake and Johnnie are with and you can't help but laugh, "Oh my god." 

"You mother fuckers are busted." Jake says pointing. 

"I fucking knew it!" Sam yells, "I called that shit months ago." 

"What are you guys doing here?" Colby laughs. He looks to you and shrugs, "I'm sorry." 

You shake your head, "At least we don't have to worry about telling them anymore." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·. Thanks for reading, I'm sorry if this sucked. I haven't been in a writing mood lately, but I know you guys have been waiting, so I hope you enjoyed this. 

Let me know how you liked it. Love ya! 

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[starsofang]

still thinking about johnny x extremely reserved!reader. ):

johnny was always the one to joke with you under normal circumstances. it had taken him a long time to even crack a smile out of you from some of his horrible one-liners, and even then, most of your smiles appeared similar to a grimace. over time, he came to learn that it was just how you preferred to smile until you could let out a true one, but he was as patient as ever.

however, the more time passed, the more the tables turned. you were starting to pull the jokes on him.

it threw him in for a complete loop the first time it happened. he was the one who started it, yet you finished it before he could make an attempt.

there was nothing special going on. you and johnny were seated in the common room, you propped much more politely than he was, while he rattled on about nonsense.

he never minded that you didn’t say much. you were always as quiet as could be. even now, you remained engrossed in your book but gave him an occasional hum to show you were listening, and that was enough for him.

johnny liked you. he wasn’t sure why, especially considering the thick, unbreakable wall you had built around yourself like a cocoon.

getting you to open up was like chipping away at a block of ice with an ice pick, only allowed one good swing each and every day. it was slow and tedious, requiring lots of patience. johnny had gotten you to smile before, sure, but he desired more. he wanted you to let loose, to reveal that silly side to you that was cowering away in the corner of your soul.

the first time it happened, johnny could’ve been mistaken for the damn sun with how much it lit him up.

“elephant would beat a lion in a fight,” johnny claimed to gaz, who had swiftly joined the two of you in the common room for the sole purpose of getting an answer to an unhinged question.

“you think an elephant would beat a lion?” gaz gawked. johnny grinned at him.

“aye, c’mon, lad, elephants are huge. and heavy.”

“and lions are the strongest predators in the wild,” gaz explained. “elephant stands no chance.”

the bicker between johnny and gaz continued while you sat silently reading your book, eyes darted downwards in attempts to avoid eye contact. you looked like your were deep in thought, perhaps even in a fit of mischief in johnny’s eyes when he’d sneak glances to you.

“why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?” you asked when gaz had stepped out of the room, leaving you two alone.

johnny’s head whipped in your direction, mouth parting as he stared at you. “what?”

you peeked up from your book, expression unreadable but johnny could decipher the faintest hint of amusement.

“why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?” you repeated. johnny huffed out a laugh, a cheeky grin curling on his face.

“why?” he mused.

“because they’re really good at it.”

the silence that filled the room was deafening. it had your mind reeling, wanting to crawl back into your shell and remain tucked away. but when johnny suddenly burst into bashful laughter, it put your mind at ease.

“did ye just make a joke, bonnie?” johnny exclaimed in excitement, unable to contain the unadulterated joy that poured out of him like a broken faucet.

“no,” you muttered in slight embarrassment, sinking into your seat.

johnny could tell it had taken a lot of courage for you to share such a silly thing with him, and it warmed his heart. he gained a reminder of why he had fallen for you all over again, and why he was working so damn hard to get you to see that you could trust him.

he couldn’t recall how long it had truly been of him picking apart the slow crumbling of your walls, but seeing you take initiative and try to get him to smile and laugh at a ridiculously cute joke, it was absolutely worth it. his patience would never thin if it meant seeing you crack open the jar of quips (that were definitely better than his own).

for my reserved queens, kings, and other lovely royalties because i am not bold or talkative nor do i show smile/expressions a lot, so this is your reminder that if you’re like meeee, then you’re still just as deserving for someone patient and understanding like johnny <3

[bks-writing-adventures]

Love? Match. (Aemond Targaryen X Stark! Reader)

This is for a request I got! If people like it, i'll do a part two <3

“Delusional. She is absolutely delusional!” Aemond grumbled, mostly to himself as Vhagar landed on a mount of snow with a low grumble. His breath was turning to fog everytime it left his body, his nose and cheeks flushed from the icy cold. This was the worst type of cold in the world. No sun, no fluff to the snow, just bitter. His nose ached, and his body shivered as he slid down Vhagar’s wing. The great beast would not meet his eye, and he could tell that she was certainly not pleased with him right now.

“I know, I know,” He mumbled, reaching to rub the scales that covered her face. “I will be quick,” he said, but he didn’t think that to be true. The North was stubborn, it was cold, and it was the closest thing to The Seven Hells. With every step, he cursed beneath his breath. Perhaps he should’ve landed closer to Winterfell, but landing that close with a dragon would not be a good look. And while he did love to intimidate, it would do nothing but create enemies. Of course, there was always the option of burning the land, but that was not truly his style.

 When he finally caught a glimpse of the building, his eyes narrowed into slits, his lashes coated with snowflakes and his vision frosted 0ver. IF one were to cry, their tears would turn to ice on their face. He was surprised that the very saliva in his mouth had not hardened. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed his hands together to create a heat, hoping with every bone in his body that it would spread. He was told to aim for Cregan Stark. His mother believed it would be the best of ideas, since men could bond easier, and perhaps he could fish out some sympathy. He would have to get to them before the Blacks, or else they could plant whatever ideas they wanted, and it would grow out of his control. When he finally saw the first flashes of black hair, it was a miracle. 

“My Lady,” He called out quietly, taking a few steps closer. She was covered in a heavy cloak of animal skin, and her dark hair was twisted into small buns around her ears, like makeshirt earmuffs. Her face was red from the cold, and her eyes were big and endearing, almost like that of a cow about to be slaughtered. His eye lingered for a moment before he took the rest of her in, noting the metal jewelry around her neck and fingers. She wore several rings, each with a different stone, and he wondered what it would feel like to press a kiss to the back of her hand. “Are you a Stark?” He asked, despite knowing the answer. This would be difficult to play out. He wasn’t a man to stay away from violence, to use words over a sword. And it was hard to convince himself that this would work out, but he swallowed his doubts as he spoke. 

“Yes. You are a long way from home, are you not?” She asked. Her voice was quiet, but it had a certain power to it, her head tilting upward, almost as if challenging him. Her dark eyes looked him over, and a smile pulled at her mouth. He was glad for the cold now, because the redness of his face would hide his blush.

 “I am, My Lady. The West is in great need of help,” He spoke. She nodded, and she began to walk, not saying anything. It baffled him slightly, and he quickly started to follow her. Perhaps leather in the cold was not the best of ideas, because he grimaced every time it touched his skin. Fur would have been a much better choice.

 “And so I have heard,” She sighed, leading him further into the snow, until he could see smudges of people in the distance. “But what I fail to understand is how that is our problem,” She spoke, a brow raised. Ugh. Her voice was just so enticing, and he could feel his body warming up from how flustered she was making him. It was disgusting, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. 

“You understand that Targaryen’s do not back down from a fight. We will destroy each other, and we will destroy you, too. You must pick a side, there is simply right, and wrong,” He spoke, pausing in his steps as she walked along the ice. He was not nearly as graceful as her, and he moved with caution, trying not to go sliding into the mountains of snow. 

“And who is decide what is right from wrong? Because forgive me for my honesty, but I do not believe your brother has ever done a right thing in his life. The wind speaks, and we hear of his sins. We would never bend the knee to such a man,” She spoke, and he felt himself groan internally. Her words were.. Well, true. He had no interest in submitting to Aegon either. His ultimate goal was to get himself on the throne and hope that his elder brother would drink himself to his death. It was a terrible thing to think, but Aegon was a terrible man. Such a fate would only make sense. His life’s worst regret was helping Ser Criston into searching for the boy. He clearly didn’t want the weight of the crown on his head, and he knew nothing about anything. He could not tell his right from left, and he knew nothing of history or politics. 

“And I deserve to be punished for that?” He asked, looking down at her. She was a fair bit shorter than him, but just as muscular, if not more. She had broad shoulders for a lady. His Uncle Daemon had once said that a Northern woman was about as feminine as a beast, but… she was, well, she was pleasant on the eyes. 

“Do not twist my words,” She spoke. “Besides. The North has nothing to give to you. We are dying left and right. The winter is harsh, and the cold is taking limbs and lives. We cannot fight in your silly war,” She responded. He didnt’ say anything for a long moment, following her gaze out to the wall. It was haunting. The sky was dark, and it was impossible to tell night from day. He didn’t like it one bit, he could not imagine living here, or how they could survive at all. He wondered where the food came from, before he realized, it wasn’t coming from anywhere. They couldn’t grow food, and there was no warmth.

 “What if, in exchange for your loyalty, we provided food and safety to your land?” He asked. He could practically see the gears turning in her head, and he fought the urge to smirk. She definitely didn’t see that coming. “Ah, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” He asked softly, his voice tickling her ears. Her eyes were clouded with thoughts, and it took her a moment to respond.

 “I would like you to speak with my brother,” She spoke, leading him toward the building. The change from the cold to the heat was shocking and welcomed all at once. Itches grew across his body, and he could feel the snow in his hair melting down into water, making his white hair cling to his head. 

“How are we to know that you are not speaking just to speak? I could agree, and you could give nothing.” She spoke, leading him through the building. Her boots left wet footprints across the stone, and he took in a deep breath as he scratched at his neck. His clothes were sticking to his skin. This really was hell.

 “I am not one to back down on my word, My Lady.” He said quietly, drawing in a deep breath as she started climbing up the stairs. He had no idea how much time had passed, chewing the inside of his cheek. “That does not mean much to me, My Prince. I do not even know which one you are,” She said, making him chuckle.

 “Ah, so I see my fame does not spread this far,” He spoke, and his ego was a bit bruised. “I should have introduced myself. I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, My Lady.” He said, gently taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, his mouth lingering for a moment. Her skin was warm on his cold lips, and he looked at her hands curiously, reaching for her left. No wedding ring. Fascinating. 

“Ah, the infamous Kinslayer. I know you now,” She said. Her eyes showed nothing, and he squinted slightly. 

“As could be said for most of my family members. We are not known to be… agreeable,” He said softly. He wanted to know more about her, but she was hard to read. His hand was still wrapped around hers, tracing patterns along the veins beneath her skin. 

“Hm.” She hummed, saying nothing more as she held his hand, practically dragging him up the stairs like a dog. When she reached the top, she pushed open a door, a group of men sitting awkwardly, their heads whipping toward the sudden intrusion. “Brother,” She spoke, making a boy sigh. “We have an offer from the West,” She spoke, making the room go quiet. Aemond could tell that she was a mighty little thing, no one spoke a word against her. It was a bit of a culture shock, seeing the way that women were treated here compared to back home. At the small court, his mother hardly got a word in, and she’d have to use him and his brother as puppets.

 “An offer?” He asked, standing up. He was a big thing, as all Northern men seemed to be. He had a face that looked like it was carved in stone, permanently unimpressed. He was not nearly as beautiful as his sister, in Aemond’s opinion, at least. “This… boy claims that in exchange for our support and men in his stupid, meaningless-” She paused, drawing in a deep breath. “In exchange for our support in the Western war, he will provide us with food and materials to last us the winter,” She spoke, brows raised. The two seemed to be communicating with their eyes, and Aemond could tell by the way that she stood that she was challenging him.

 “Sister, what of-” The man didn’t seem to know what to say. “We pledged our loyalty to the Targaryens long ago. But with them going against each other, either side is a fair pick. We may as well choose the side that will benefit us both,” She said, staring at an older man that was sitting in one of the chairs, a brow raised. After a moment, he got up, moving a few paces back so she could take the seat, crossing her legs. Cregan looked at Aemond, head tilting. He was intimidating in a way that was different from the Prince. While Aemond had a carved face and relied on his dark clothes and gaze, Cregan had a natural superiority to him. He was broad and calm, which was the worst. He didn’t show any displays of anger or distaste, he just nodded slowly. “

And is the Prince unwed?” He asked. Aemond’s heart thumped, and he straightened his back even more. This was not part of the plan. He just had to hope his mother would not be angry with him. Marriage was one of the greatest weapons at all. It could be used to bond and manipulate, and it was something that would be in the history books. It would combine their names and their value, and hopefully, give him more access to the other side of the Kingdoms. 

“He is not,” Aemond said in response. No one had really spoken directly to him, he felt like such an outsider. Cregan’s face broke into a smirk. 

“Well, sister. If we are taking all that we can..” He trailed off. It was weird. Aemond had never been spoken to in this way. It was both humbling and exhilarating. He wanted to argue and say that he never agreed to it.. But at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt.

 “And it would give us access to more weapons and money,” The Stark girl nodded in return. When Aemond came to the North, he did not expect to be leaving with a betrothed. But when two hours had passed, she was following him back to Vhagar, a quarter of her things packed into a bag on her back, her eyes narrowed as they walked. He was so awkward, not saying anything as they approached the giant beast that was Vhagar. He just hoped that the Lady Stark would not react negatively, or Vhagar might eat her. “Gīda, Vhagar. Sȳz va se riña.” He spoke, slowly stroking Vhagar’s snout. 

“I did not realize how big she was,” Lady Stark admitted after a moment. She did not look horrified, in fact, she seemed almost awestruck. Aemond smiled a little at her words. 

“The largest in the world. She is the greatest protector of Kings Landing at the moment, protecting us against our treasonous kin. My uncle has been our greatest threat, you would not like him very much,” He said quietly, taking her hand and leading her to Vhagar’s giant saddle. “Are you ready to fly?” He asked softly. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, and he was thrilled to feel her arms around him as they climbed onto the large dragon. 

“Is now a terrible time to mention that I am afraid of heights?” She asked softly as her arms went around his torso. Her arms were strong, maybe just as strong as his. 

“That it is,” He smiled, placing one of his hands over hers before they took off. To his delight, she did not scream, she just clenched her eyes shut nice and tight, and held him as they shared warmth. He knew that Vhagar could feel it, this odd feeling growing in his belly like a disease. It wasn’t love, it was.. Infatuation, perhaps. He held his lady as Vhagar’s wings steadied, rubbing her hand in slow, circular motions as she eventually fell asleep. He just hoped that she would not fall. The flight was long and covered the both in snowflakes, and he let out a breath of relief as the air grew heavy and humid once more. The air of the West tasted warm and almost oily on his tongue, the smell of mud and trees tickling his nose with familiarity. 

“Wake up, my beauty.” He mumbled softly, nudging the Stark as they made their descend back to the land, Vhagar’s mighty claws slicing into the dirt, sending a spray of dust across the field. She groaned softly, and she seemed to already be reacting to the change in weather, sneezing as she got off of the dragons back. There was not a moment for them to speak before his mother was rushing toward him, her face falling a bit when she saw the girl. Her mind was going to all the wrong places, praying that her son had not kidnapped the girl as ransom or something. 

“Mother,” He spoke, taking her arms as she approached. She was stressed constantly nowadays, and the death of his father had aged her ten years. Her brown eyes were tired, and her hair was disheveled, despite the constant conditioning treatments. 

“Aemond,” She said, her voice coming out sleepy and cautious as she eyed the dark haired lady. 

“Relax, mother. This is my betrothed,” He said softly, reaching over for her arm, slowly bringing the Stark closer as though trying to introduce two dogs, hoping they would make friends. 

“Your betrothed?” She asked softly. It was hard to tell if she was angry or simply shocked. But after a moment, a tight smile spread on her face. “And you did not think to ask? Or…” She trailed off, swallowing her words. 

“We do not have the luxury of taking things slow in war, mother. And with our marriage will come a bond between us and the North. They will fight with us if we give them the resources they need,” He said softly, and her brows scrunched. 

“And what resources would those be?” She asked, seeming rather irritated. 

“Food, clothes, safety. We need the soldiers to stay alive if we want them to fight for us. And Lady Stark has much knowledge, politically and socially,” The more he spoke, the more she seemed convinced, and after a moment of thinking, her gaze softened.

 “Very well, then.” She said, gazing back at Lady Stark. “We will get you a nice warm bath and some tea immediately. You can sleep in the guest chambers,” She spoke, slowly nodding. Some servants came to take Lady Stark’s bag, but she quickly waved them off. She did not like being separated from her belongings, and when the brunette was finally out of earshot, Alicent turned to her youngest son. “You cannot simply make decisions like that without warning,” She spoke. She didn’t know why she was angry.

It didn’t have much to do with the war at all, but rather, it was the feeling of losing her youngest child. He had remained unwed this long, and he was her best child. She would forever regret what she did to Aegon and Helaena, and she had prayed every night to The Maiden and The Mother for Aemond to get a love match. To find someone that could give him the care and understanding that she could never provide. And now he would be marrying a stranger. But at the very least, they were the same age. And Lady Stark seemed kind enough. 

“It is not a good idea to get married when the world is like this. If Daemon finds out..” She trailed off. She was very aware that Rhaenyra’s family was seeking revenge due to Aemond’s disgusting actions. And she would hate to see the Lady Stark be caught in the crossfire. “You will have no grand wedding. There will be no celebration. It will be private, and you will say nothing to anyone at the court. There are spies everywhere,” She warned, and anxiety burned in Aemond’s chest. He hadn’t thought about that, and he did not care to think about it anymore.

When he finally found himself in bed, he watched the ceiling as he desperately hunted for sleep. When it did not come, his mind wandered and his eyes shut as he thought about Lady Stark. Her arms around his torso, the feel of her head on his back, the way her breath hitched the higher they got, all those rings on her fingers- and how she would wear one from him soon, too. The more he thought, the more he wondered, and slowly, his feet touched the stone floor, and he crept to his door, slowly opening it. His guard stood outside, brows raised. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked. 

“Yes.” Aemond responded, slowly making his way down to the guest chambers. It was a walk of shame of sorts, having to walk past all the guards as they stood by his siblings and mothers chambers. They all gave him small nods, and he sighed, considering turning around. The servants would talk. The Knights would talk. It was a bad idea, but he was so close, and slowly, he knocked on the door of the guest chambers. When there was no answer, he was about to knock again, when the door suddenly whipped open. Lady Stark was staring at him, her skin still rosy and warm from her bath, her hair wet and combed out, slowly curling up again as it dried. Her ears had been covered previously, and he smiled as he saw her in full. She had such little ears, like a cute little mouse. He could almost laugh at the thought. 

“Can I help you?” She asked, arms crossed. He smiled at her feistiness, looking at her nightclothes. Her robe was comically large, and he made a small promise to himself that when the war was over, he would have some fine clothes made for her.

 “I cannot find sleep. I was hoping you would speak with me about our arrangement,” He said slowly. She looked suspicious, but nodded after some time, stepping aside to allow him into the room. The guest chambers were nothing special. A big bed with generic blankets, a washroom, a bathtub, a chamber pot, some towels, and a fire place. A dresser and a wardrobe, a bookshelf with only two volumes on it. It was dull, but she seemed to light it up.

 “My mother says that our marriage will be a quiet one. This is a dangerous family, you understand,” He said softly, following her mindlessly and heating up when she sat on her bed. She just looked so lovely like this, and he cleared his throat, averting his gaze. 

“I am well aware. When are the supplies going to the North?” She asked. She had her mind set, and her desires were clear. 

“Soon, my lady. We will marry tomorrow once the sun falls, and the day after that, I will bring the delivery myself,” He spoke. They were big promises, but he knew he could do it. When he was very young, he had an obsession with agriculture for some months. For his 14th name day, he had requested only books and seeds, and of course, a greenhouse. A greenhouse that was run by servants and farmers, and was full of plants and vegetables that were ready to go. Perhaps they could build a greenhouse in the North, and they could use mirrors and glass to direct the sun toward it. 

“Very good.” She says softly, shifting a little on the bed. “Are you going to stand there forever, or will you sit?” She asked, staring up at him. His eye widened, and he looked at the mattress. It was far softer than his own, and he could only imagine the back ache if he fell asleep on it. But he could not deny her, sitting a good foot or so away. 

“...I cannot imagine this is what you envisioned when you were a girl, dreaming of marriage,” He said quietly, making her let out a laugh. Not a soft giggle, but a full belly laugh, a soft wheeze escaping her. “You think young girls dream of marriage?” She asked, as though the idea was ridiculous. “Tell me, My Prince, have you ever spoken to a woman?” She asked him. The answer was of course, no, not really. He had interacted with his mother and sister, but outside of that.. Well, did the Septa count? Probably not. 

“Not often.” He admitted. She nodded, smiling a little as she reached out to touch his cheek.

 “Oh, I imagine you scare off the western ladies like the plague, with this little thing of yours,” She said, reaching for his eyepatch as he turned his head away. Yes, of course. That. 

“It is not my best feature,” He said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. 

“Says who?” She asked, head tilted. He couldn’t tell if she was teasing or not. He grew hot at that, looking awkwardly at his hands.

 “Says most,” He spoke. He sounded pathetic. He hated what she was doing to him, but he couldn’t get enough. 

“Most people are not worth your time or mine. Now, I am tired, and I am looking forward to sleeping on this giant thing,” She sighs, flopping back on the bed, arms above her head and her legs parted like a starfish. 

“You enjoy it, my Lady. When the war ends.. I will get you the biggest bed the world has to offer,” He said softly, and after a moment of thinking about it, he finally reached out and touched her hair. It was slightly rough in his hands. It was not silky like his own, and it was much thicker, as though she had adapted to the cold air of the north. 

“You make a lot of promises. We will start with the marriage, then the supplies, and we will see where we end up,” She spoke, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. Gods. He felt like he was full of Milk of Poppy. Utterly euphoric. Now he understood why men loved brothels so much. He would pay an embarrassing amount to feel this way every day. 

“Sounds.. Sounds good,” He says, voice cracking a little. She smiled teasingly, gently pushing on his chest. 

“I will see you tomorrow, my Prince.” She spoke as he headed for the door, and he mumbled under his breath. 

“I will see you tomorrow, My Love.” He mumbled so softly that not even the strongest of ears could hear it. That night, he slept like an infant, dreaming of the days to come.

thank you to everyone who reads!! <3

-BK ♡

[delirious-donna]

The Surprise [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: it’s 2am and here I am posting this smut-filled fic because I can’t sleep and I can’t stop thinking about this man. p.s. requests are open for Higuruma specifically so drop me an ask if you wanna give me some ideas for everyone’s favourite lawyer!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: lingerie, pussy drunk Hiromi (it’s canon don’t fight me), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it folks) and other goodies

Masterlist

“Will that be everything for you today?” The cheery assistant asked offering a genuine smile whilst they rang through your purchases and packed them carefully into a neat little box.

Your stomach fluttered with the thought of what might transpire this coming weekend, a long-planned weekend that couldn’t arrive quick enough. The delicate tissue paper wrapped around the items inside the box before the assistant closed it over, tied a ribbon securely and placed it in a paper bag.

“Yes, that’s it. Thank you for your help earlier, I appreciate it!”

With a bounce in your step and a sizeable dent in your bank balance, you exited the boutique store to daydream about your husband’s reaction to your little splurge. Neither of you were accustomed to dropping large sums of money so randomly, both believing that an air of caution and frugality would see you through any potential storms on the horizon, but you had walked past this store so many times and finally been tempted into their den of sinful delights.

Inclusive-sized mannequins displayed a range of differently styled lingerie, from demure bridal wear to raunchy strips of leather and wide mesh that would leave very little to the imagination. At first, you were convinced it would only be window shopping, however, when you spied an elegant-looking black bodysuit that seemed like it would hold all your bits in without compromising the sex appeal element, it was game over.

Once you were interested, the friendly young assistant swooped in and soon you were trying it on in the fancy dressing room. The lighting was complimenting rather than garishly fluorescent, and the lull of soft, sensual music added to the overall experience, one you were rather enjoying. The strapless bodysuit hugged your curves and accentuated your décolletage nicely. Clearly, it was designed by scientists to support your breasts without cumbersome straps, and you silently praised their ingenuity. Paired with crotchless fishnet tights that you could secure beneath the suit—a suggestion from your enthusiastic little helper—you knew that Hiromi would likely lose his mind and you couldn’t wait.

Your poor, overworked and perpetually exhausted husband had been burning the candle at both ends for the past nearly four months, neck deep in a case that if he were to win would be a monumental victory in his career. In support, you packed him off every morning with a full lunch consisting of his favourite foods, mostly to encourage him to actually eat instead of consuming mug after mug of rancid instant coffee. In your evenings, you helped him go over witness testimonies, read over his arguments for clarity, and did everything you could to lighten his load around the house. It wouldn’t be a permanent arrangement, you both knew that, and to say he appreciated your support was an understatement.

That’s why when he told you that it was all drawing to a conclusion and that he was cautiously optimistic it would end in his favour, you revelled in that knowledge. Whether it did come to fruition or not, his weekend would be free, and he promised to spend some real quality time with you without the cloud of looming work. There was nothing more he could do, no more past cases he could study and the thought of basking in his undivided attention warmed your heart and soul.

With two days remaining before your scheduled weekend plans to do absolutely nothing but relax and unwind in each other’s presence, you again peeked at the box you’d tucked into your side of the wardrobe, away from prying eyes. Maybe it was a bout of nerves, a moment of body consciousness, that made you pull your surprise out to examine the contents. Whatever it was, you worried your bottom lip once the intimate outfit was laid out on the bedspread.

“What was I thinking… this is too much,” you quietly scolded yourself.

Flopping beside the expensive scraps of fabric, you brushed a palm down your face and reminded yourself that you looked fucking divine in the changing room of the boutique, so why would it be any different now? More so, you knew deep in your heart that Hiromi adored you and thought you were a goddess, one he claimed he didn’t deserve.

A few moments later, you stood in front of the mirrored wardrobe to scrutinise your reflection. Your eyes narrowed as you tugged the sweetheart cups into place and felt the soft squish of your breast jiggle inside. Turning to the side, a hand ran the length of your torso with a grin unfurling at the tight hug of the sheer-panelled fabric. Damn, your backside looked real good from this angle. But maybe the fishnets were too much, you mused, turning this way and that.

You ran your fingers through your hair, wondering if you should try to style it, maybe give it some more volume and texture. It was at that moment, whilst making kissy faces at your reflection with your hands scrunching handfuls of your hair and up on your tippy toes to extend the length of your legs, that the bedroom door opened, and you froze like a deer in headlights.

~

Higuruma Hiromi was on cloud nine. Not only had he won a career-defining case against all the odds, but the judge had also taken less time to deliberate than anyone expected they would. After a hearty swig of celebratory champagne drank from crappy paper cups with his partner and their secretaries, he was on the first train home to truly celebrate with the only person that mattered—you.

What he didn’t expect to find when he entered the house as stealthily as he could manage was the vision of you standing in the middle of the bedroom looking like one of the pin-up models from the magazines he would hide under his mattress as a young man.

Like a slightly tipsy house cat, he tiptoed his way through the rooms, listening for signs of you and driving straight towards the bedroom to surprise you with his unannounced return. The door bounced open on its hinges and he stood, shell-shocked for a moment before it turned to white-hot appreciation.

You looked beautiful, stunning, breathtaking even. There weren’t enough colourful adjectives for how he felt about you at any given time, but right now, modelling a black bodysuit that hugged both your butt and your breasts, he was entirely dumbstruck. Hiromi didn’t know where to look, or whether you’d rather he look away given your strangled yelp of surprise at his sudden appearance. You made no effort to cover yourself or shove him out the door, no, you both faced one another as if neither of you knew what to do or say.

His eyes continued to betray him, slowly caressing the length of your figure and finding new things to appreciate; the sweetheart cups, the gauzy panels that allowed him glimpses of your skin beneath, and not to mention the fishnet tights. He hadn’t seen you wear anything like those since your dating years, and he had forgotten how much he missed them, or how many he had ruined by ripping through the gusset in his haste.

“What are you doing home?” You glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and back to your husband, heat filling your face but something else followed on the tails of your embarrassment, something more pleasant.

Hiromi ran this thumb over his mouth, gaze pointedly fixed on your chest, and you cleared your throat with emphasis until he finally met your eye and the arch of your eyebrow. Already his neck looked red, like a rash had spread from below the collar of his shirt and travelled towards his jaw. If you could describe a person as having hearts for eyes, it would be one Higuruma Hiromi and you adored him for his open adoration.

“We… I won,” he managed weakly, smiling as if coming out of a daze and you blinked for a moment while processing the words.

“You won?”

He chuckled. “I won.”

A wealth of emotions passed over your face until you ended with ecstatic pride, tears near pricking your eyes as you launched yourself into his arms and peppered his cheeks and nose with enough kisses to make him blush more furiously. His hands settled on your hips, his touch more hesitant than you would expect given the circumstances and you pulled back to give him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be more excited than this.”

“Darling…” he started, skimming his fingertips up and down your sides before rounding to your full backside and squeezing as he spoke. “What’s this?”

In your joy, you had forgotten that Hiromi had walked in on you wearing the lingerie that was meant to be for this weekend and meant to be a surprise. You guessed it still had been, although not the one you planned. “Oh, just a little something to show my hardworking man that I love and adore him. Nothing much.”

“Nothing much…” he repeated in a disbelieving whisper. A finger ran the length of your spine, from the top of your backside to near the base of your skull, dragging it slowly and watching you shudder beneath his deliberate touch. Your shoulder blades shifted, pushing your chest out further and into his, which earned you a groan of appreciation.

“I wouldn’t call this nothing much. You look like a wet dream come to life.”

He walked you backwards, the scent of champagne hot on his breath and your stomach curled into a mass of twisted anticipation—heavy in the depths of your belly. Your thighs crashed into the edge of the bed and Hiromi used your moment of imbalance to shove you atop, quickly shucking out of his jacket and crawling over you.

“Hiromi,” you squeaked between peals of laughter. The man in question only hummed in response, his hooded eyes heavy with nothing that spoke of fatigue. The whisky colour of his eyes appeared blown almost completely black by the dilation of his pupils, and he licked over his lips in what looked like anticipation of a hearty meal.

That meal was you…

Any protest you might have offered died in your throat when he claimed your mouth like a man possessed. His tongue curled over your teeth, pushing the memory of champagne into the space he dominated and greedily swallowing your answering moan. His forearms bracketed your head, keeping you caged and unable to run from him, not that you had any desire to, not when you could feel the press of his cock thickening against your lower half.

Loosening the knot of his tie with one finger, you took the moment to grab fistfuls of the shirt at his back, tugging the tails out of his trousers and sliding your palms beneath the starched surface to scratch along his spine. Hiromi shuddered, the disconnect of your lips an audible pop that left a web of saliva between you, only breaking with a quick swipe of your pink tongue.

“I don’t even have my make-up or hair done, you beast!” The half-hearted protest fell on deaf ears, or so you thought when his mouth moved to your neck and down to your collarbone, sucking little blooming lovebites on his journey. When he reached the abundant swell of your breasts, he glanced up whilst his tongue pathed across the top of your left breast, dipping into the valley between and then resuming the path over the right.

“You think I need face paint or styled hair to love you more? Fuck, sweetheart… I nearly came in my briefs the minute I opened the door.” The length of his aquiline nose nudged between your breasts, nuzzling the soft mounds like a cat warming by the fire. Carding your fingers through his hair, you wriggled beneath him and let out a breathy sigh, the weight and conviction of his love settling over you in perfect comfort. There would be no more argument from you, and Hiromi won for the second time that day.

With methodical slowness he kissed his way down your body, stopping to lave the sheer panels at either side of your abdomen and forcing you to arch from the warm sensation of his eager tongue. You’d barely managed to get his shirt off his shoulders before he was exploring you like this was his first time with your body. The white button-up hung down his back, sleeves caught by his elbows, and he made no move to strip it off much to your annoyance.

He stopped abruptly when he reached your pelvic mound, chin resting there whilst his fingers trailed the arch of your foot, up the inside of your calf and tickled behind your knee. “Stop that, mister!” You scolded with laughter threatening to bubble out.

“Spread ‘em and I will,” he challenged with a smirk.

The space between your freshly parted thighs became his home, an arm wound around your hip pawing at the fat of your thigh and the line where it met your arse, eliciting shivers that rippled over your skin like a calm lake disturbed by a skimming stone. He fingered the two snaps that kept the bodysuit in place, stroking firmly over your clothed cunt and pushing the barrier deeper until it started to feel sticky from your arousal. Looking all too smug, he freed the snaps with a grunt of satisfaction, sure that his next step would be to rip through the gusset of your raunchy fishnets so he could taste you. That moment never came.

You felt the vibration shudder through your husband, his head falling forward to obscure what you could see of his face, and you rocked your hips back and forth in invitation. The cool air of the room contrasted by the hot fan of his breath on your slit made you clench around a disappointing nothing, frowning at his sudden pause.

For a long moment, there was only silence. When he looked up, his expression nearly stole your breath. Thick black eyebrows pinched together, visible strain around his drooped eyes and a throaty whine made your pussy flutter with need. This was the Hiromi that only came out to play every now and again. The one who would wring you like a wet dish towel for just one more orgasm, one more mouthful of your hot nectar.

“Crotchless, really?” he murmured, dragging a finger across your puffy folds where the thin membrane of the tights should have resided and you nearly jolted upwards to the ceiling, having forgotten that little fact in the heat of the moment.

Cupping his cheek in your palm, you gave a cheeky wink. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about all the pairs of tights you’ve ruined over the years. These were just a… precaution.” Hiromi groaned, thrusting his face into your pussy without warning. The flat of his tongue ran the length of you, making you perfectly slippery in mere seconds, only for the tip of the wet muscle to fuck into your entrance immediately.

“Oh, fuck… Hiro!”

You yanked great tufts of his hair to no avail; he was lost to eating you out like a man starved. The prominent slope of his nose slid back and forth across your bundle of nerves, and it lit up your insides like the continuous explosion of miniature firecrackers.

Whining from his sudden onslaught, you tried to run by easing up the bed, but your attempts were shot down in flames by sharp insistent tugs of your hips. Hiromi was enthusiastic at the best of times when it came to going down on you, but it was nothing compared to right now. The wet squelching sucks of his lips and tongue flooded the bedroom, only being accompanied by your decadent moans and panting breaths as you tried not to lose your sanity entirely.

Hiromi was lost in you; the scent of your favourite body wash, the taste of your arousal when it trickled from your core mixed with the slight salt of your skin, the plush silk of your thighs beneath his prodding fingertips and the unrestrained noises that caressed his ears.

He almost missed your orgasm so clouded was his mind in the quest to turn you into a puddle of liquid goo for only his consumption. The wave of it crested through the length of your body, vibrating every limb and twitching each nerve ending. Your spine arched from the unmade sheets, the hand coiled tight in Hiromi’s hair spasming and tugging without even meaning to and that’s when he noticed. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his lips around your pulsing clit and sucked it deeper into his mouth.

Stars winked into your vision at being thrust from one orgasm directly into another so violently. Your pussy fluttered ceaselessly, a craving deep in your gut to be filled at all costs, yet right now all you could do was hold on for dear life whilst you bucked and rutted against your husband’s face, wetting it thoroughly. He nosed at your quaking thigh, sharp incisors nipping your yielding flesh until you yelped and tried to close your legs without success.

You became aware of movement, the absence of shoulders beneath your thighs and you blinked to find a desperate predator stripping off his clothes whilst prowling back and forth at the foot of the bed. Hiromi grasped his cock, tugging it down to the base to spread the leaked precum that continued to dribble from his cockhead. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had already cum, but he was always the excitable type who would leak and leak until you did something about it, usually opting to take him down your throat until he convulsed and spilt everything he had to offer.

Your hand trailed lower down your body, fingers playing in the spit-soaked mess he’d left behind in his hurry to stand and strip. Hiromi whined; head cocked to the side as he watched you play idly with your puffy lips flooded with the surge of blood and circling your pert little pearl. He fucked his fist harder, the other hand rolling his heavy balls until his stomach sucked in and your nostrils flared in warning.

“C’mere mister lawyer, I don’t want you wasting your orgasm when it could be filling me nicely.”

How quickly the tables could turn. One minute he was the predator, pawing and demanding, taking what he wanted without question, and the next he was the prey. Trapped on his back with cheeks a ruddy hue and eyes that begged for clemency. Your much small hand encased his dick, twisting your palm on each upward stroke while you straddled him and rocked yourself against the balls he’d just been palming.

His hands shook with restraint as they reached for your breasts, filling his broad palms and massaging them until you dipped low to claim his lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, in his mouth and the sensation empowered you, fucking his throbbing cock through your folds until he twitched and whimpered some more.

“Please… fuck. Need to be inside. Might not last. God, you’re so fucking sexy. Don’t deserve you.” Hiromi babbled every syllable, sounding drunk when there was little to no alcohol left in his system.

His fingertips dipped inside the cups of your bodysuit, tweaking at your nipples and you indulged his silent request by allowing him to fold the cups down and let the spill of your tits fill his face. With renewed vigour and enthusiasm, he mouthed at you and ran his tongue in circles around your nipples one at a time.

You keened at the familiar sensation, swept away by a current of pure indulgence when he moved to suckle you. It was the perfect moment to strike, with Hiromi distracted in flicking his tongue over and over, round and round your swollen bud, you guided him to notch at your entrance and slowly sank onto his needy dick. He grunted; his grip tightening on your waist, but he refused to come up for air, continuing to nudge his nose into your breast, lips pulling the nipple taut until he finally released with a gasp.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you more than I can express.”

Hiromi worshipped you with his gaze, eyes full of devotion and unbridled passion whilst you rode him steadily. The sticky pap pap pap of your pelvis meeting his was the soundtrack to your lovemaking, because beneath the sexy lingerie and the ideas you had planned for the weekend, that’s what this was and always would be. You knew he didn’t need the extra faff to love you with his whole heart. You knew that he was aroused by you simply walking through the kitchen in a pair of his boxers.

You knew he loved you for you.

His dappled cheeks darkened further, the furrow of his brow telling of how he was trying to stave off his release, but you wanted him as undone as you had been, and you would not be denied. Leaning forward, your palms found purchase on his shoulders, breasts bouncing freely in time with your hips, and you squeezed around his shaft until the vein in his temple popped and he let out a guttural groan.

Hiromi grabbed around your middle, flipping you up and over so that he could thrust himself into overstimulation without hindrance. Pressing your thighs to your chest, you heard the telltale rip and knew that another pair of tights had fallen victim to Higuruma Hiromi despite your best efforts to keep them safe. His swollen cock pumped thick spurts of his milky cum against your cervix, filling you to the brim yet continuing to sloppily thrust in and out.

“-cum again… gotta—fuckkk. You’re so tight,” he bit through the words, fighting the steady burn of overstimulation to see you orgasm for the third time and you were close. A glob of spit landed against your clit, thick fingers shaking from exertion rubbing the frothy mess into you with insistent motions. He was a man possessed, falling apart for him was as easy as drawing breath and he caught you on your free fall.

You chanted his name in some semblance of a prayer, thrashing and clawing at anything you could reach until you milked him again and he lost the ability to hold himself up. Hiromi fell atop you, his face pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, hot shuddering moans stifled by his mouth on your neck while he weakly tried to bear some of his weight onto an arm.

“Stop squirming, you’re not that heavy, Hiro,” you teased with a light slap against his back.

Once you could both speak without sounding winded, you combed your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, moving the strands that stuck to his forehead away until you could trace his eyebrows, his jaw, and the bridge of his nose. “Y’know… you ripped my tights—again.”

Hiromi chuckled, rubbing his cheek against your chest. “I did, and I’d do it again. Maybe give them a miss if we do this again, hm?”

“You liked the surprise then?”

“I already told you that I did, not that I needed it. All I ever need is you.”

It was your turn to chuckle, booping the tip of his nose. “Maybe when I show you the receipt, you’ll change your tune.”

“… sweetheart. How much did it cost? Don’t roll away, missy! Answer my question. Hey. Hey! You have to answer the lawyer when they ask a question.”