#doing this while he's rolling and smoking is so

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don’t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed. 

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

[meelusinee]

AN OPERA HOUSE ☆ T.N X READER

in which you’re Theo's girlfriend and went to visit him on tour.

pairing: singer!theodore nott x singer!reader tags: band!au, mostly fluff word count: 2.6k warnings: none, just fluff! (and mattheo getting water bottles thrown his way)

author’s note: my first post! for starters, i made a small playlist for this fic if you’d like to check it out. theodore, who i imagine as a cigarettes after sex singer. secondly, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

AN OPERA HOUSE | T.N x SINGER!READER

God, he hated interviews.

The lights that were blaring in Theodore’s face, along with the sound of people walking around both in front and behind the set, were really starting to piss him off. Theo didn’t know how Enzo and Mattheo did it, both of them smiling bright as if they were having a nice fuck or smoking a rather heavy cigarette.

Theodore really could use a cigarette right now. Either that, or you.

Thoughts of nicotine and you had been running rampant in his mind ever since he had to leave you for his national tour, the tour that celebrated the release of the band’s newest album Cigarettes After Sex. A debut of sorts, Theodore wasn’t really sure what to call it. If he were to name it anything, he’d want to name it his love letter to you. But Mattheo had said he couldn’t do that, so he stuck with the band name.

“Today is a rather special day for you, isn’t it?”

Theodore’s mind zoned back in as Blaise gently nudged his leg, his posture straightening up as the interviewer finally started asking questions. Perhaps they needed time to make the lights even brighter, Theo thought, his hand moving to cover the frown growing on his face. 

“Very special indeed,” Mattheo said, his signature smirk that got a lot of people involved with the band plastered on his face. “We just released an album, did you hear?”

“Yes, I did!” the interviewer said, smiling brightly as she adjusted the notes in her hand. “I was hoping we could ask you some questions about it, the musical process and making it mostly.”

Theo hummed non-committedly as the rest of them nodded their heads. Questions about music production didn’t sound too bad compared to a media interrogation.

“Do you mind if we did an introduction?” the lady asked, her fingers patting the cards.

“Course not love,” Blaise said, waving his hand casually as he sat up straighter. Theodore rolled his eyes, looking down at the ground. Blaise was always the biggest player out of the four of them. And that said a lot, seeing as though Mattheo Riddle was in the band as well. 

Theodore watched as the cameras focused in on each of them, the interviewer putting her cards down momentarily to introduce them to the show. “Today is a very special day for all of us, I can imagine.” she said, smiling as she made some sort of dramatic hand gesture towards them. “Today, I’m here with the members of Cigarettes after Sex. We’re going to ask questions about their newest album.”

“I’m so excited.” Lorenzo squeaked, straightening up as he and Mattheo made funny faces to the camera.

“I wanted to start with the first question I had, which was how working on the album went.” she started almost instantly, sitting up a bit straighter. Theo rather appreciated that about her. “I mean, there’s four people in your band, and a lot of timing and other issues that you’d have to work on together. Does that stuff come easier to you than to others, do you think?”

“I think we work pretty well together, right?” Lorenzo asked, leaning forward to look at the other three before smirking in Theo’s direction. “Other than Mr. Grumpy over there, he gets pissy a lot.”

“Oh definitely.” Mattheo said, smirking as he ruffled Theo’s hair. “But it’s okay, because he writes us songs and mothers us whenever we drink. We love him very dearly.”

“It’s not my fault you decide to get concerningly drunk almost every time we hit a bar.” Theo grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter as he prepared to answer the question seriously. “We work as a team a lot of the time, especially when it comes to music. The only non-negotiable is the lyrics, which I write by myself. Other than that though, it’s free reign.”

“So things like instruments and rhythm are all decided by everyone in the band collectively?” the interviewer asked.

“Pretty much,” Blaise explained. “Usually Mattheo and Enzo make a starting beat for songs, and Theo and I usually build guitar chords off of that. Theo here has most of the control with singing though, rhythm and stuff.”

“That’s really cool.” the interviewer nodded. “I wish my family had that amount of coordination during the holidays.”

The four of them chuckled at varying degrees, with Mattheo winking at the interviewer after. “Maybe if we came over we could give you some pointers.”

“That sounds really lovely, actually.” she said, the comment obviously getting to her. Her cheeks became visibly more flushed, fingers tapping faster against her notes. “I wanted to ask you guys a little bit about the lyrics though, if you don’t mind.”

And here we go.

“That’s all Theo’s field.” Lorenzo said, all three of their fingers dramatically pointing at the top of Theo’s head. He really felt like walking out for a smoke, and maybe burning them all with the ashes out of spite for their existence. But he wasn’t going to let them know that.

“Now, I’m sure you can guess where this is headed,” she chuckled softly, flipping one of her flashcards over. “I was wondering what the inspiration for your songs was. Do you have a muse or anything of the sort?”

Theodore sighed, feeling the moment almost pause in time as he tried to think of an answer. He very much did have a muse, you were waiting at home in his bed. Even still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that public. Especially since the both of you were rather quiet creatures.

He supposed it couldn’t hurt too much though.

“I do,” he whispered, clearing his throat after he spoke. He didn't realize how choked he would sound speaking. “Yeah, she’s really pretty.”

“Theo’s got a girlfriend!” Mattheo teased, poking Theo’s cheek teasingly. “He’s got a girlfriend who he loves very much. That woman has stolen his heart from me!”

“For shame of her, the audacity even.” Blaise chuckled amusedly, both Mattheo and Enzo playing a heartbroken bit. Theo smirked softly as Mattheo dramatically rested his head on Lorenzo’s shoulder, fake sobs escaping his mouth as they mourned over the loss of a non-existent relationship. 

“You’ll be fine.” Theo said, gently patting Mattheo’s back.

“I’ll never recover from this.” he sniffled, sitting up a bit straighter. “Mark my words.”

It was a midsummer night, the sweltering heat doing nothing to deter the line of fangirls waiting at the entrance gates. The muggy and dense air seemed to surround everyone with a humid blanket, every bit of contact made as they tried to get through the doors like a match on gasoline. The concerts you went to weren’t usually this crowded and suffocating. 

Then again, you usually never went to such well known-bands.

Luckily for you, you had been able to sneak a VIP seat ticket for the higher tip-tops of the opera house, a fitting venue for the band that was playing tonight. Cigarettes After Sex was flashing on the monitor they had set up near the back of the stage, the camera zoomed in to focus on the currently empty microphone stand. 

Voices filled the area as everyone began to take their seats, some people pushing and shoving as they made their way around with water and sneaked in alcohol. Some of them had on merch for the band, some of them didn’t. Most of them wore darker clothes though, lots of black with leather jackets and heavy boots.

Your eyes zoned in on the screen as the lights began to dim, the voices all hushing as four men walked out onto the stage. Lorenzo Berkshire was the drummer, one of the most well-known band drummers that you could name off the top of your head. Mattheo Riddle was already stationed by the keyboards, his unruly curls already a little damp from the humidity inside the room. Blaise Zabini walked out with his bass guitar in hand, a role you knew he took on just so he could look hot while strumming the strings. Then came out Theodore Nott. 

Your boyfriend.

You could tell that the heat was affecting him the least out of all of the band members, his waterline covered in the tiniest bit of eyeliner. You smiled softly as you recalled the memory of putting eyeliner on him when you two first started dating, the giggling fit the both of you had broken out into as the other three begged you to do their eyeliner as well. 

He looked beautiful in the lighting too, his outfit framing his figure in an almost holy light. You were almost tempted to start writing a song about it right then and there. But now wasn’t your time, now was the time of the band.

You supposed the band thought the same thing as well, Blaise’s fingers beginning the strum the opening of their most popular song. Theo made his way up to the microphone stand, smiling softly at the crowd as he began to sing. His voice was just as angelic as his face, echoing through the opera house like the ghost of a long forgotten lover. He had completely captivated the room, the silence barely just quieter than the sound of his voice. 

“Your lips, my lips,” you smiled softly as he sang the lyrics, leaning your head on your hand. “Apocalypse.”

You remember the time when he wrote that song. Your tongue was barely darted out as you tried to focus on not messing up the edges of a painting you had been working on, the brush trembling with your hands focused. It was a galaxy, the blues and purples blending together in a  jaw-dropping beauty of a display. Mattheo had come into the room as you finished, a low whistle escaping his mouth as he glanced over at it.

“Looks like an apocalypse.”

Apparently, those words had rung through Theo’s mind for the week after that. He eventually sat you down on the bed, pulling out his guitar as he began to sing the lyrics to you. They needed a bit of polishing with the rhythm, his fingers plucking the wrong strings at times as he sang. But it was one of the most beautiful pieces you had heard regardless, tears welling in your eyes as you moved to hug him. That hug also ran through Theo’s mind for yet another week, in which he had apparently produced an entire studio album based on you. 

You smiled softly as the end of the song came about, the final string echoing through the silent theatre. Theo had gone to grab a bottle of water by the speaker, his eyes locking onto yours.

You winked playfully, smiling at the blush that covered his features. You also just remembered that he had not expected you at the tour. 

“You need to come get your lover boy,” were the words that rang through your phone speaker as you tried to press it against your ear.

“What?” you asked again, pen in your hand as you spoke.

“I said,” Mattheo’s voice rang through the speaker. “You need to come get your lover boy. He is really depressed right now, like, really. He’s missing you terribly and is currently refusing to work because of it.”

You heard him and Blaise beginning to argue in the background, the both of them knowing that Theo would eventually get up. But Mattheo seemed to think that you being there would solve every single one of his problems.

“I don’t know if I can go, Mattheo,” you mumbled, placing your notebook down. “I doubt I could get a spontaneous ticket.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I already sent a driver to pick you up, he’ll be there in about 10 minutes. I’m just calling to let you know.”

“You what?” you said, looking at the phone incredulously. “Mattheo, I don’t have any time to pack! What would I wear?”

“You say that as if Theo won’t buy you a whole wardrobe based on you liking a single piece of jewelry!” Mattheo said back, groaning as Blaise called for him. “I gotta go, make sure you get in that car and come over. He’s really, really missing you.”

“Mattheo, I swear to Merlin.” you began, but didn’t have any time to finish as you heard the beeping at the end of the line. 

(divider)

“Is that amore mio?” Theo asked Blaise incredulously, looking over at the other three before catching Mattheo’s smirk. “Oh, you bastard.”

“You were missing her!” he said, running away from the keyboard so Theo could throw water at him. “It's not my fault you got depressed!”

“She is meant to be resting, testa di cazzo!” Theo said, sighing as he put the bottle down. No doubt that would be clipped in magazine headers across the country. Theo looked over at you, a soft smile coming on his face when you came into vision. You still had that smile on your face, if not brighter now that you were giggling. He smiled back, picking up his microphone again.

“For our next song,” he spoke into the microphone, placing it back on the stand. “I think it’d be rather nice to sing something about the building we’re in as well. Something about the opera house.” he said, smirking softly as the crowd of fans began cheering. The lights dimmed again as the music began playing, his eyes closing as he let it run through his soul.

“Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle,” he began, the music coursing through his veins. The words flowed out of him like a waterfall, his voice sweet as candy as he began walking back and forth at the front of the stage. Though every time the chorus hit he found himself in the middle, eyes focused on yours as he sang the lyrics. 

“I was meant to love you, and always keep you in my life. I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight.”

The lights cut off completely as the equipment turned off, a smile growing on Theo’s face as the end of the concert came. 

“Theo!” you squeaked as you saw him, waddling up to him like a happy penguin as you embraced him in a hug. You hadn’t seen him in over two weeks, the longest either of you had ever spent apart. “I never want to abandon you ever again.”

“If anyone was doing the abandoning, it was me.” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead lovingly. “I missed you so much principessa,” 

“I missed you too,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest. “Teddy.”

“Are you calling me a teddy bear?” he chuckled softly, pulling away from the hug to cup your face lovingly. His eyes were filled with devotion you only thought possible in dreams and fairytales, that was until you eventually met him at least. 

“Yes I am.” you smiled softly.

“You are ridiculous.” he chuckled softly, pressing his lips against yours as he caressed your cheeks lovingly. “Merlin, I love you.”

“I love you too.” she whispered lovingly. 

The two of you stood comfortably in the silence, wrapped in a hug neither wanted to leave. That was until Mattheo popped in.

“Told you that you missed her!”

His face had rather quickly met two empty water bottles. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much for reading! i got kind of lazy during the end of this, i'm not going to lie to you (it's three am), but! if you want more of these two lovely beauties i might maybe make a part two! (i originally drafted this with reader as a singer in mind, so if you'd like to be singing some adrianne lenker songs to theo just let me know)

please like and comment and all that jazz, i practically live off of validation at this point.

[hoffmansgirl]

❛ 𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘿 𝙈𝙀 & 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙊𝙍𝙀 𝙈𝙀. ⎯ nicholas a. chavez

₊˚⊹౨ৎ 𝓐'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: based on this request !! hope you enjoy! writing this was so much fun xx 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. smoking (weed) ‧ sexual tension ‧ oral (f!receiving) ‧ unprotected piv ‧ size difference ‧ best friends to lovers trope ‧ this one's soft & sweet tbh <3 𝘄𝗰. 4318

"𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗦𝗧 fucking movie I've ever seen", you groaned, squinting your eyes before taking a puff of your shared joint. You heard Nicholas hum in agreement as he reached for the remote to shut the TV down. You let your head fall back against the couch, handing the joint to the man next to you blindly.

"Waste of time", Nick commented, deep groan of satisfaction leaving his throat at the burning sensation in his lungs. "But this... This is some real good shit". Your eyes snapped open at the remark, and you smirked, nodding. "Yeah. It is. Fuck". You let your body relax against the couch, before you heard Nicholas speak again.

"Let's...", You could hear the playful smirk on his lips while not even looking at him ⎯ at which you turned your head to watch him. "Let's play a game".

He threw his arm around the backrest of the couch nonchalantly, tilting his head, as if he was challenging you.

His hair was a mess, eyes glistening and slightly red from the joint. Nicholas' pearly smile seemed to light the whole room up, and you could see the outline of his muscles through the white, tight t-shirt he was wearing. He undeniably looked good ⎯ and if he wasn't your best friend, you'd say he looked like the most dreamy man ever.

"A game? What are we, twelve?", you huffed, rolling your eyes before stealing the joint from between his fingers. Nicholas sent you a glare, though his smirk never flattered, as he moved to take a sip of his Pepsi. "What kind of a game?".

"Truth or dare", he shrugged playfully, and you stubbed out the joint. You already began to roll a new one ⎯ you had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

"But it's just us two", you remarked, putting a strand of hair behind your ear, stealing him a glance.

"And that is what makes it even more fun", Nicholas smirked, and you silently agreed. You huffed, lighting the joint and putting some music on in the background ⎯ a playlist you and Nicholas made of your favourite songs.

"Okay. Let's do this, then". You rested your back against the armrest of the couch, playing with the hem of your shorts mindlessly. Mischievous smirk made its way onto Nick's face as he got comfortable.

"So, Y/N... Truth or dare?", he sipped on his drink, looking up at you challengingly. "Truth".

Nick rolled his eyes. "You're no fun".

"Shut up. We're only getting started", you groaned, hitting him with a pillow ⎯ soft enough not to spill his drink. "Ask away".

He seemed to think for a second, and you blew the smoke from your mouth, getting more and more comfortable against the couch. You drummed your fingers against the backrest, watching your friend with hooded eyes.

"The worst date you've been on", he smirked, leaning down and taking the joint from between your fingers. You huffed, throwing your heavy head back.

"Alan took me to this party once", Nicholas groaned at the name of your ex boyfriend, at which you laughed softly. "He called it a date, but he ended up ignoring me the whole night, getting wasted with his friends. Then he threw up in my car", you winced at the memory, and Nicholas did, too ⎯ the disgust evident on his face, and he didn't even try to hide it.

"He was such a dickhead", Nick laughed, and you couldn't help but stare at his perfect lips while he did so. "Yeah, he was. Truth or dare?".

Nicholas seemed to think for a second, and he hesitatingly replied: "Truth".

"You are such a pussy", you laughed teasingly, deciding to take things a little further. "When was the last time you masturbated?".

Nicholas' eyes widened, and so did yours ⎯ boldness wasn't exactly one of your strongest qualities, but the hazy atmosphere in the room seemed to have awakened something in you.

The air thickened with tension, and you caught a glimpse of Nicholas' stupid smirk ⎯ his confidence never flattering, even though he seemed to hesitate for a second. "Yesterday".

You didn't expect him to answer ⎯ not so directly, at least. You couldn't help but let out a quiet gasp, covering it with yet another puff of your joint. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping Nicholas didn't notice how flustered you suddenly became.

"To what?", you couldn't help but ask, but Nicholas tutted, spreading his legs and resting his hand on his thigh nonchalantly. Your eyes lingered on the veins that popped up on his arms. You always noticed how attractive he was. God, how couldn't you? He was charming, funny, and really fucking hot ⎯ but he was also your best friend. Yet you couldn't help but stare ⎯ the way his hair fell on his forehead messily, dark eyes looking deep into your soul, lips twisted into a little smirk.

Your head suddenly felt very heavy; you grew more and more relaxed with each passing second, yet your newfound confidence only seemed to get stronger.

"Not so fast", Nicholas winked at you, tilting his head. "Your turn. Truth or dare?".

Before you could think it through, you were already replying. "Dare".

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze to rest on your thighs ⎯ the shorts you were seemed to be ridiculously exposing now, every inch of your skin burning with something you couldn't quite name.

"Bold, aren't you?", Nicholas chuckled lowly; his low, teasing voice making your whole body shake. "Hmm. Exchange smoke with me".

You lifted your head from the couch ⎯ it wasn't unusual for the two of you to do it, so you felt pretty confident as you instantly moved closer towards Nick. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and you suddenly felt breathless, as he twisted his body to sit perfectly across from you. You took the joint from between Nicholas' fingers, brushing over his hand in the process. Spark of electricity run through you ⎯ you could barely hear the music playing in the background anymore, Nick's smile consuming every part of your body. It was the first time you felt this type of tension lingering in the air ⎯ the one that made it hard to breathe, the smell of your best friend's cologne invading your senses.

You let out a shaky breath before lifting the joint to your lips, taking a deep puff, putting your other hand on Nicholas' cheek to get him closer. You were hypnotised by the look in his eyes; predatory, as if he was seeing right through you, hearing your thoughts.

Nicholas' lips opened, and you leaned down to blow the smoke into his mouth. Your lips brushed in the process, just slightly, but enough to make your heart race. Nicholas' left hand landed on your side, travelling up to brush over your back softly.

You pulled back and he inhaled, closing his eyes for a second before breathing the smoke out. His eyes were dazed, playful smirk playing on his lips; you traced his defined jaw with your pointer finger lightly, feeling his muscles clench under your touch.

You stubbed out whatever was left of the joint, squealing in surprise when you were pulled on Nicholas' lap in one, swift movement. He hid his face in your neck, both of his hands travelling up your body to rest on your hips. You should be surprised, pull him away and ask him what he was doing ⎯ yet, due to the buzzing in your head, how tired you suddenly became, all you could do was press your back against his chest and get comfortable.

"New perfume?", his voice came out low, raspy, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. You shifted on his lap, causing the bulge in his pants to press against your ass tightly. "I like it".

A part of you knew it was wrong ⎯ he was your best friend, you knew each other since forever ⎯ but his touch on your bare skin, the heat radiating off him; all of it was intoxicating, way too good to just let it go.

"Yeah. Cherry⎯ Cherry and almond", you whispered, and Nicholas hummed, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. "But it's your turn now. Truth or dare?".

"Dare", he didn't even hesitate, and you shifted again, earning a soft groan from him ⎯ you bit back a moan at the vibration of his voice against your sensitive skin. His soft, big hands travelled up your rib cage, stopping just below the hem of your top.

"Kiss me, Nicholas", you managed to get out, squeezing your eyes shut, your whole body on fire, and your friend froze behind you.

"I⎯ Are you sure?", he asked, and you rolled your eyes, twisting your body so that you could straddle his lap properly. "Only if you are".

You smiled fondly before pressing a soft, sweet kiss on Nicholas' lips. Your hands found their place on his broad shoulders; his muscles twitching under your touch.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship", he whispered softly, and you hummed, eyes half-closed as you lowered your head to brush your lips against the side of his neck teasingly. Nicholas gripped your hips, grounding you on top of him, his erection now brushing against your inner thighs.

"You drive me crazy", he mumbled, transfixed on the way your soft breath tickled his skin, his eyes threatening to close from the sensation. "Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?".

You couldn't help but laugh at the stupid question; Nicholas' chest vibrated against yours, sweet giggle leaving his mouth, and the atmosphere seemed to lighten just for a second.

"You're talking too much", you grinned, meeting his dark, chocolate eyes, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Nicholas' demeanour switched as he took you in, and, unable to control himself anymore, he pulled you towards him in a soft kiss.

The feeling of his lips, soft, warm and delicate against yours ⎯ it was everything you never thought you needed. Everything you did was in sync, the prolonged, shaky breaths leaving your mouths, or the way your hands tightened on the other's skin ⎯ pulling each other closer as your lips brushed against each other in a slow dance.

Soon enough, you grounded yourself against the tent in his grey sweatpants, inaudibly begging for more. Nicholas' hands travelled down your back, testing the waters as his fingertips grazed over your ass teasingly. You grinded your hips down, causing him to moan; allowing your tongue to enter his mouth swiftly. There was no more softness in the way you moved anymore ⎯ you grew bolder, your tongue rolling over his' with passion, as you tugged on his soft hair playfully.

"I've always wanted to do this", Nicholas whispered, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes ⎯ making sure you knew he was being honest. You smiled, breathing heavily, your heart swelling at the words.

"Only this?", you chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose softly. Your friend bit his lip at the words, his cheeks and neck slightly flushed, at which you smiled softly.

"No. Not only this. I just⎯ I never thought you'd want it, too", he admitted, his fingers tracing circles on your lower back.

"And what if I tell you...", you lowered your voice, brushing your lips against Nicholas' ear teasingly. "I want it just as much as you do? And I don't want you to hold back on me".

Nicholas' hands on your back tightened, and he seemed to hesitate for a second, before he caught your lips with his' again. His demeanour seemed to switch again, as he bit on your lower lip roughly, tugging on it with his teeth before soothing the pain with a bruising kiss. You squealed in surprise when suddenly you were lifted from the couch, Nicholas' hands on your thighs as he walked you both to your bedroom. You giggled into the kiss as he stumbled, causing you to tighten your legs around his hips.

The second you stepped into your bedroom, Nicholas' used his foot to shut the door behind you both, pressing you tightly against the cold surface.

His lips were back on yours in an instant, and he pressed his lower body tightly against yours.

You tugged on his shirt, inaudibly begging him to take it off, and he obeyed. Nicholas dropped you to the floor carefully ⎯ your knees were shaking terribly, and your breath hitched when he took his shirt off.

With all strength you had left, you pushed Nicholas to the bed, and he grinned, moving up until he was resting on your sheets comfortably. You straddled his lap again, licking your lips as you took him in.

It wasn't the first time you saw Nicholas' chest ⎯ he often took his shirt off when the two of you were together, but this time it was different. You run your hands down his abdomen, feeling the strong muscles under your fingertips. The urge to worship every part of him was too strong, now ⎯ you lowered your head, sucking on the soft skin of his collarbone, running your hot tongue over his soft skin. Nicholas' let out a shaky breath as you marked him, and he didn't protest when you left bruises everywhere you could reach.

"You're so hot, Nick", you mumbled, your hands travelling down his abs as you looked up at him, circling your tongue around his nipple teasingly. Nicholas' lips opened in a silent moan, his hands tugging on the sheets tightly. "A fucking work of art".

Your lips closed around the pink nub, and you grazed your teeth over it experimentally, watching as Nicholas' head fell back against the pillows, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You teased his sensitive nipples for a while, before moving down his body, brushing your lips against his hard stomach insatiably. A breathless moan left Nicholas, and his hand was in your hair, pulling you off him as you reached the waistband of his sweatpants.

You were on your back in a second, Nicholas' hands tugging on your shirt greedily. You obeyed, taking the excess material off your body, exposing your bare chest to him.

His eyes widened ⎯ he didn't expect you to not wear a bra; his mouth was slightly agape as he stared at your exposed chest. A small, shy smile appeared on your face as you watched the admiration filling Nicholas' features. "You're so beautiful, baby", he rasped, moving to kneel in between your legs, his hands spreading your thighs as he latched his mouth on your breasts greedily. He licked, bit and kissed your soft skin, and your back arched off the bed at the feeling. You could feel his hardness press against your clothed centre, and a breathless moan left both of you when Nicholas pressed his hips against yours tightly. You tugged on his hair, and he bit on your nipple softly, sucking the nub in between his teeth before pulling away with a pop.

He rutted his hips against yours experimentally, causing a loud, choked sound to leave your mouth.

"You sound so pretty", he groaned hungrily, pressing a wet, bruising kiss on your lips before pulling away.

His hot hands travelled down your chest, roaming over your stomach before lingering just above the waistband of your shorts.

"Are you...", he began, but you were already rolling your eyes before he could finish.

"Fuck, yes, I'm sure. Stop holding back. Please".

His eyes darkened, and you bit back a moan as he practically ripped the shorts off your body, along with your lacy, black thong. He cursed under his breath, before spreading your thighs wide, admiring the sight of your wet, exposed pussy. You clenched around nothing, his gaze so intense, so greedy, it almost had you closing your legs.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy", he groaned, laying down between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs tightly. "Bet she tastes sweet, too".

With these words, he dived in, lapping at your cunt as if he hasn't ate in days. You let out a high-pitched moan, your hands finding place on his hair, tugging tightly with every stroke of his tongue. He sucked on your little clit, his eyes falling open to watch your face confront in pleasure. Groans left his mouth at the taste of your sweet juices coating his tongue, his hips rutting against the bed ⎯ his own need evident in every movement.

You cried out when you felt his tongue circling your sensitive nub tirelessly, your legs beginning to shake, signalling your orgasm was near.

"Nicholas, oh my God", you whined, throwing your head back, hips beginning to move in sync with his tongue. "I'm so close, baby⎯ Don't stop".

He chuckled lowly, the sound sending vibrations right through your core, and in an instant you were coming all over him, your juices creating a wet puddle under your ass.

"Tastes so good", he groaned, continuing his assault on your pussy even when you shook in overstimulation. Tears blurred your vision, but you had no energy to stop him, not when it felt so good.

He was being overly messy, swirling his tongue around your heat in a way that had you breathless ⎯ his groans vibrating against you, his eyes following your every reaction. He teased your entrance with his tongue, before dipping into it experimentally, smirking when your legs shook around his head.

"Nick, oh my God⎯ 's too much", you cried out, and he doubled his efforts, his arms pinning your legs to the bed, leaving you completely at his mercy.

"I love this sweet fucking pussy", he whined, licking a stripe up to your clit, before his mouth closed around it again. He sucked, hard, and you were seeing white, sweating all over your satin sheets, barely able to breathe, tears blurring your vision. "I can't wait to see you cum again".

Two of his thick, long fingers circled your entrance before he pushed them into you in one, swift movement. He sighed at the feeling of your tight walls gripping him like a vice, and he curled them upwards experimentally, having you see stars with a little to no effort.

You let out a shallow breath as Nicholas' lips moved up your body, his fingers plunging into you again and again. The pressure in your stomach was ready to snap any second now, and when he grabbed your neck tightly, staring down at you with hooded eyes, you swore you could cum from the sight alone.

"You're so filthy. I love it", he smirked, cutting your airflow with a squeeze of his hand. You grabbed his forearm tightly, your eyes rolling back into your head as you felt his thumb press tight circles into your clit.

With a choked scream, you squirted all over his hand and your own sheets, and Nicholas pulled back to watch the transparent fluid escape your cunt with every withdraw of his fingers.

"Good fucking girl. Let it all out", he cooed softly, helping you ride out your orgasm. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and Nicholas removed his hand from your neck, allowing you to take deep breaths. "Holy shit, Nick", you managed to choke out, your legs shaky from the overwhelming pleasure.

Nicholas' gaze on you was hard, demanding, as he brought his drenched fingers to your mouth. "Suck".

You didn't hesitate for a second, opening your mouth and letting him press his fingers down against your tongue. You lapped on your own juices covering his long fingers, holding onto his forearm for dear life, moaning at the taste of yourself. Nicholas' other hand found place on your head, as he caressed your hair softly, almost lovingly, thrusting his fingers down your throat experimentally. You gagged, hollowing your cheeks while looking up at him, battling your lashes. Nicholas let out a strangled groan, pushing his fingers as far as they could go, watching you struggle. "I can't wait to see these pretty lips wrapped around my dick", he rasped, and you moaned when he finally freed your mouth.

With the little strength you had left, you pushed yourself up, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants greedily. Nicholas obeyed, too horny to ask you if you were sure ⎯ his pants and boxers were on the floor in an instant, and he was already kissing you with urgency that left you breathless.

You felt his dick press against your thigh, heavy, long and thick ⎯ and you started to worry about if he was going to fit at all.

Nicholas could almost feel your sudden uncertainty, as he pulled away, towering over your much smaller form ⎯ the size difference never really mattered that much, until now. You stared at his cock, wide eyed. His size made your mouth water, the glistening, angry red tip almost too tempting.

"You⎯ You're so fucking big", you sighed, reaching down to wrap your hand around him. Nicholas' head fell down when he finally felt your touch on his painfully hard cock, his cross necklace swinging just above your face as he pressed both of his hands on the sides of your head, pinning you under him. Soft grunts left his mouth, and when you teased his tip with your thumb lightly ⎯ you felt his whole body clench above you.

"As much as I⎯ Fuck⎯ As much as I'd like to cum in your mouth or in your hand, I need to be inside you. Now".

His voice was rough, leaving you no room to protest as he leaned back, his hand replacing your own on his length. He pumped himself a few times, his dark eyes roaming over your form greedily, before he run his tip over your clit lightly. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the pressure, and Nicholas grunted when your wetness covered his aching cock. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed the tip into your tight, weeping hole.

Your eyes snapped open, and you felt yourself clench around his thick tip ⎯ Nicholas let out a strangled pant at the feeling of your warm, inviting cunt.

"Oh, fuck. I thought I prepped you well", he managed to let out, drunk on the way your cunt took him in.

He slowly sank deeper into you, letting you adjust to the painful stretch, running his hands over your thighs to help you relax. "Almost all the way in. I'm so proud of you", he cooed softly, at which you clenched again, nodding your head to signal you were ready for more.

When he finally bottomed out, you cried out, feeling as if he was ripping your insides apart. Nicholas' eyes fell closed as you kept on clenching around him, and he swore he could cum from the feeling alone.

"Ba⎯baby, you need to relax. Fuck. Just relax", he groaned, and you tried to do exactly what he had told.

After a few seconds, you finally managed to get used to the stretch ⎯ now feeling so incredibly full, so deeply connected to him, but you needed more.

"Nicholas, move, please", you begged, and he was more than happy to obey.

He pulled out almost all the way, before snapping his hips into yours, watching the way your tits bounced with the movement. He pressed your legs flat against the mattress, and you cried out when he leaned down to tower over you again. His thrusts were slow but deep, the angle making him hit that spongy spot inside of you, and you were shaking, completely at his mercy.

"You're taking me so well", Nicholas praised, kissing the corner of your mouth sweetly. "My good little girl. So tight, so warm".

You swore you could cum from his words alone, and when his fingers moved up from your thigh to press soft circles on your stiff, overstimulated clit, you were on the edge immediately.

"You feel so good, baby", he continued, speeding up, the sounds of his skin meeting yours filling the air. "I know you want to cum for me. Go on baby, let go for me".

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you nodded mindlessly, digging your nails into Nicholas' strong shoulders, drawing blood in the process.

Nicholas' tip kissed ⎯ no, fucked ⎯ your cervix repeatedly, as he buried himself in you over and over again, holding his own orgasm off.

When you finally let go, you felt as if your orgasm lasted a lifetime ⎯ you clenched around him so hard it was nearly impossible for him to keep his steady movements, your hips lifting off the mattress, grinding against his own as your orgasm washed over you.

"Fuck, I love you", Nicholas cried out, letting go of your legs only to stroke your cheeks in his big hands. He kissed you softly, groaning into your mouth as he painted your walls white, filling you with his cum.

At first, you didn't even comprehend his words ⎯ it took you a second after the earth shattering orgasm you had just experienced. Nicholas pulled away from your lips, letting you breathe, his forehead pressed against yours as he caught his own breath.

After a few seconds, he carefully removed his cock from you, laying down on his back, and you cuddled into his side. You traced soft circles on his chest as he covered the two of you with a blanket, kissing your forehead lovingly.

"Did you mean it?", you whispered, looking up at him, and he smiled softly. "Yes. I meant it".

"I love you too, Nick", your heart swelled as he pulled you closer, big smiles adoring both of your faces as you fell asleep in each other's warm embrace.

hoffmansgirl © 2024 | do not copy, translate, recreate or plagiarise my content. nicholas chavez masterlist ☆

tags: @darlingnikkisixx @titsout4nicholas @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @millietozier

[whereisloe]

my angel ໒꒱

“come from way above” ❀ sevika x reader 𓆝. 𓆟

Got this idea while writing a Silco fic and realized not enough people are writing for this fine ass woman OHMYGOF

I miss my wife, tails. i miss her a lot.

“This doesn’t hurt, does it?” you’d ask as you treated Sevika’s wound, carefully watching every faint expression on her face as you did so. She only grunted in response before letting her head fall into her hand. Considering the positions you both assumed, the woman had been towering over you as you sat comfortably between her legs dressing her abdominal wound. “Aaw , we’re almost done. Just keep being good for me, yeah?” You’d tease with a passive pat to her thigh as you prepped yourself to wrap her waist.

“Shut up” She’d force through a wince as you applied pressure to the deep cut, wrapping it as you did so. “You talk too much”

Once you finished the wrap your hands were quick to roam. Snaking up her chest, and latching onto her neck as you pulled your lips onto her jaw. “Keep getting hurt like this and I might just have to give Silco a little visit for all the trouble he keeps putting you through” Sevika scoffed, half-amused at your wit as she leaned back into the chair. “That man would eat you alive, sweetheart” The petname came off more condescending than endearing as Sevika undermined your words, even brushing off the genuine concern behind the joke with a bittersweet smirk.

“Oh, you promise?” Now it was your turn to laugh as you watched that smirk wipe clean off her face when her expression grew darker. You ignored her very obvious mood change and continued cleaning up your gear. “Y’know, maybe I could get you that pay raise. What do you think?” You’d stand from your crouched position and slowly spin around, flaunting your body at the woman. You even grabbed her rugged hand and bring it to your hip as you knelt into the seat of the chair that had been exposed between her legs.

“Hilarious.” She wouldn’t even half mind you as her hand quickly replaced your hip with a cigar. You rolled your eyes at her passiveness before returning to the ground to clean up your mess. At some point you even walked away allowing Sevika to smoke in peace as you cleaned your equipment.

Once you reentered the room, you’d find Sevika casually reclined on your couch with an unlit cigar still hanging out the side of her mouth. As you got closer her eyes locked on to you, roaming you up and down but once they reached your face, they softened. Just two gentle, big eyes admiring from a distance as you admired back. You were snapped out of your trance when she threw a lighter at you. You caught the metal with ease and examined it. “You forgot to light me” She said plainly, attempting to hide the sentiment she held toward the action. It was reminiscent of the first time the two of you met outside a brothel. Long story short, Sevika was quick to describe you as a huge distraction to her mission that day despite your short interaction that even you barely remembered.

“How cruel of me” You knelt down in front of the couch, now back to admiring your partner from below as her half lidded eyes met your wide ones. Her hand, rough as it was, gently held your cheek as her thumb brushed over your bottom lip. You felt yourself melt into her warm palm as the contrast between her calloused hand and your plush skin sent chills down your skin. You sparked the lighter twice before bringing it to the end of Sevika’s cigar.

She watched you. Allowing the flame to illuminate your soft expressions, and in her eyes, manipulating your features. Making you resemble yourself that night many years ago. She wasn’t any less taken by your more aged features if anything she appreciated them. Glad to see you grow older alongside her than having to admire your beauty from an ageless photo. You would notice her unwavering stare once you tossed the lighter aside and decided to make brief conversation. “You know, I don’t remember much of the first time we met” Sevika took a puff of her cigar before nodding urging you to continue. “But I remember without a doubt the second time”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t” She chuckled under her breath as the memories came flooding in. You took note of her already flaking cigar as she held it between her two fingers. Quickly, you placed your ceramic tray gently to her stomach just in time to catch the ash. “That guy had a lot of nerve putting his hands on you, you’re lucky I was there. Otherwise, who knows the things he would’ve did—” Sevika cursed at the thought.

“Well, you were there and I am forever grateful for you,” your voice was low as you rub senseless shapes across her wrist with the pad of your thumb. “my angel” the words were hushed as you kissed the base of her palm, then her wrist, down her arm, and back up her shoulder until you reached her nape where you took a moment. In this time, you pushed yourself onto her, feeling her shift to a more seated position to accommodate for you, you straddle her hips as you tossed your arms carelessly over her shoulders. The ceramic tray had fallen out from under you meeting the concrete with a shattering sound as the shards dispersed. “Damn it” You sighed as you began shifting away from your partner only for her to rest a heavy hand on your waist.

“I’ll clean it, later” Sevika gently guided you back into herself only to latch onto your neck. A shaky breath left your agape lips as you laid helplessly above Sevika. The heat in your cheeks only spread as she shamelessly left those sticky love bites all over your neck.

The sounds that fell from your lips only further egged her on as she found herself getting lower and her hand higher as it slid up your stomach. Eventually, you grew fed up with her slow teasing and brought your fingertips to the seams of your shirt and watched as Sevika’s gaze grew harsh with anticipation. You were ready to lift the cloth but quickly felt your blood run cold as three heavy knocked fell against your front door. You practically jumped out your skin as Sevika scowled at the source of the noise. “Fuck, I’ll get it” You held a hand over your heart as your slowly opened the door, meeting the eyes of a man who seemed to be one of Silco’s goons.

“Sevika, boss needs ya” The man completely disregarded you. You huffed under your breath and glanced up noticing how she was already behind you, prying the door further open. “Gotchu, now get the hell out of here before somebody sees you” Sevika’s voice was cold and harsh as she talked with the man, her tone almost foreign to you as you waited behind the door for Sevika to finish. Once she did, the door was shut with a frustrated grunt as she leant up against the door contemplating her next move.

“You need me to kill him?” From behind, you brought both your arms around her, pressing your face against her shoulder, you felt her laugh. “I’m sure you could.” She turned around and pressed a brief kiss to your temple. “Drinks on me next date to make up for this”

“Drinks are always on you” Your thumbs rubbed anxiously against her waist as you become increasingly aware of how much you hated when she left.

“Guess I need to stop fucking up, then” She gave your cheek on last stroke before turning to leave only to be stopped when you grabbed her mech hand. “You’re off to a bad start if you’re just gonna leave like that” You pulled yourself into her chest, standing on your toes as your lips locked with hers. Moving in tandem, Sevika fell against the door as you cupped her face in your palms and grew warm as her hand fell on the small of your back. Toward the end of your kiss you felt that warm, genuine smile of hers form against your lips as you fell back onto your heels.

“Be sure to fly back home to me, my angel”

god punishes me by making my wives fictional :( also have yall read that hexstrap fic??? sevika please just the tip 🙏😩

[soleilapproves]

Possible sneak peek:

Nanami was flushed. It was unlike him to be at such a place with a stranger on his lap. His eyes squinted, trying to make sense of his surroundings all while being inebriated. His red solo cup was long discarded in some corner of the large room, possibly leaking out whatever was left of the concoction that had him so delirious (a horrendous amalgamation of green apple Smirnoff and Fireball).

"So," the girl on his lap said while tracing a finger down Nanami's crisp navy shirt that now had a few creases. "You wanna take this upstairs?" He gulped as she nipped his ear lobe. He had made out with women before but he knew her suggestion meant entirely something else.

Intercourse. Coitus. Sex

Something he is inexperienced in despite looking like a walking wet dream. He expended sexual frustration in the gym and the results made it quite evident; veins protruding from his forearms when he made the slightest movement, sculpted chest that looked like it was chiseled by Apollo himself and, tight thighs that were a result of strenuous rock climbing.

He wanted to do the sinful deed badly but never found the right person to do it with. And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be in a dingy college party with a stranger who (without his consent) was sitting on his lap.

“I have to go.” The blond lightly pushed the drunk woman off him and went outside to sober up and look for one of his friends- Geto.

Ah, Geto Suguru. English literature major, and artist on the side who funded his hobbies by working as part-time barista at the local cafe. With long dark hair and hypnotizing pools one called eyes, it was obvious that the campus cafe would be at its busiest when he was working.

He sat among a bunch of people, smoking a shared joint with one of the girls that was cozying up to his side. The THC in his system was screaming at him to kiss her (and he knew she’d kiss back), but he wasn’t into it tonight.

He was tired of meaningless touches and caresses. He wanted something serious. Someone who saw him for him and not a tortured artist who painted pictures of his conquests (just women he led on with the idea of a relationship and then abandoned them because of a lack of emotional connection).

He was tired of being toxic. He wanted to breathe clean air for once. His tired red eyes stared at the rolled up joint between his fingers as the girl next to him leant down to take a drag from it.

‘This is going to be the last time I do this shit,’ he thought to himself as he pulled the girl away from the joint by her neck. He took in a drag and exhaled into her mouth as she let out a surprised yet aroused gasp.

He knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her. He didn’t want to sleep with someone who only wanted sex. His first time was precious to him and he was not going to give it away to some desperate skank (he could almost hear Nanami reprimanding him to not demean random women but he doesn’t care for it).

He began to wonder what his friend Gojo was up to.

“Chug, chug, chug!” Gojo yelled as he held on to some random girl’s throat while pouring beer down her mouth through his red solo cup. She claimed that she had never drank before but she was taking it like a champ.

They always do that. They always lie to him about being innocent and demure. And he was tired of it.

He cheered once she finished the drink and wrapped her arms around his neck. He gave her a boyish smirk and squeezed her cheeks. “You were pretty good for a first timer.” She took off his black aviators that he wore everywhere and put it on herself (much to his annoyance). “That’s cause I lied. I just wanted you to grab my neck.”

Barf. Can’t a man be friends with a woman without wanting to have sex with her. Is that what friendship has boiled down to?

She pressed her front to his and he immediately pushed her off. “Okay, tiger, you have fun. I’m gonna… make sure no one is fucking in my room.”

The girl grumbled but let him go. He was the host of this not-so-classy soirée after all so it was his responsibility that there was some form of decorum (yes, decorum. Even if Geto was outside, smoking weed and people were grinding against one another like they had never felt the touch of another human being).

He opened his door to see an empty room and thanked his lucky stars. The overstimulating atmosphere of the party was wearing him out to the point where he had forgotten his very expensive shades with the sleazy liar downstairs. Whatever, he could always get more. That’s what trust funds are for.

He wondered what it would be like to be with a woman who was genuinely interested in him for once. Someone who saw him beyond his money and power. Maybe he wouldn’t be a virgin. Maybe he wouldn’t be afraid of sharing his last name with her because she’ll use it responsibly.

All he can do is wish for it.

Imagine Gojo, Geto and Nanami being an unlikely friend group that haven’t lost their virginities yet.

It’s their last year of college and all they want to do is get laid before they enter the work force and life keeps them busy with taxes, bills, and down payments.

So they decided to come up with a pact- the virginity loss pact where they will each make sure to lose it before graduation. Doesn’t matter to whom.

Except none of them know that they all want to lose it to the same girl- you.

They’re all trying their best to seduce you, get you in their bed all while you’re thinking about how they’re so kind to you. Nanami always tutors you for difficult subjects, Gojo is good at helping you and your friends skip lines at the club, and Geto? Well, he’s just great eye candy (just kidding, he always sneaks in extra free whipped cream whenever he’s the barista at your college cafe).

Unbeknownst to you, all these men are best friends and all of them want a piece of you.

(I got the idea while watching Superbad 💀)

[dixons-sunshine]

I’m not sure if you’re cool with writing stoner!daryl, as I didn’t see anything about that in your what you won’t write section so if you’re not ok with that it’s totally cool !! But if you are …..

Could you do a stoner!daryl x reader where they’re out on a run and reader finds some joints in a house and takes them back with her. And when they get home she shows him and they share a joint and sit on the porch to stare at the stars. I feel like high Daryl would be super touchy and needy and their stargazing would last too long before he drags her back to their bed lol

Head In The Clouds | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: Okay so I’ve had this in my drafts for a while because I’m so scared that I messed this up. I tried doing my research on this but I’m still worried. I hope I did an okay job with this.

Daryl Dixon was a rather serious guy. Sure, being with him, being his partner, had made him open up like a blooming flower, granting you the permission to see his caring, funny, care free side. However, despite that, Daryl was still a serious guy, who preferred to keep his affections for you something private, something sacred, something for the two of you only.

So it came as a big surprise to you that all of that flew out the window for him after one singular joint. It was as if he had his head in the clouds.

Earlier that day, you had gone on a run with Aaron. The two of you had stumbled across a house that had been left relatively untouched, supplies-wise, and after a bit of digging, you had come across a little bag of pre rolled joints. There was not many, only three, but it still made for a cool find—a find you were currently sharing with Daryl, whilst sitting on the porch steps of the Alexandrian home you shared with Rick, Michonne, and Carl, gazing up at the stars, like Daryl had suggested the two of you do.

You took a hit from the joint, before passing it over to Daryl again, giggling softly when he leaned over to press multiple kisses to your cheek in thanks. “Dar,” you managed through your giggles, gently pushing him away, “that tickles.”

Daryl chuckled gruffly, his cerulean eyes sparkling in the low light that flooded through the curtains inside. “What, I can’t express my gratitude no more?”

You smiled at him and shook your head your body feeling light, almost like you weren’t sitting on the steps. Almost like you were floating. “Your stubble is ticklish.”

Daryl inhaled the smoke from the joint, held it for a couple of seconds, before releasing it. By now, it was only one pull away from being done, and when Daryl extended it to you, you waved it off.

“You can have it.”

He shrugged and took the last pull, before putting it out in the ashtray next to him. Once he was certain that it was out and that it would not accidentally start a fire, he turned his attention back to you. He scooted closer to you, wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer, before resting his chin on top of your head.

“Have I ever told ya how goddamn beautiful you are?” he asked softly, his voice sounding like he was in awe.

You laughed lightly and nuzzled your face into his chest, suddenly feeling shy, your hazy mind already locking the compliment away in the metaphorical “love” box. “Thank you, my love.”

Daryl inhaled deeply, the scent of your clean, recently washed hair infiltrating his senses and making him higher than the joint he had smoked ever could. “Ya smell so good, too.” He began pressing kisses to your temple, trailing down to your cheek, your jaw, before he gently nibbled on your neck… “Good enough to eat. Better than any damn meal I ever tasted.”

His words were making you feel woozy. Sure, Daryl has complimented you before, but rarely were there any sexual connotations behind them. This side of Daryl was something extremely rare, one that the high from the joint was bringing out to the surface.

Slowly, his hands began trailing over your body. First your thighs, up your hips, your waist, lingering right over the swell of your breasts, before moving back down and slipping under your shirt. His hands landed flush against your skin, making you gasp softly.

Daryl pulled back slightly to gaze into your eyes, a small, lovesick smile on his face. “I love your eyes.”

“Yeah?” you asked in a soft whisper, a smile on your face.

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Them eyes’a yours shine brighter than the stars in the night sky.”

You giggled softly. “I can say the same about yours.”

Daryl’s smile widened slightly, before he leaned down and captured your lips in his for a proper kiss. Despite his sweet words, the kiss certainly was anything but. The kiss was passionate, steamy, and a slight bit sloppy. The joint had made the two of you a bit uncoordinated, but that did not matter. The kiss was still perfect to you.

Daryl was the first to pull away. He got up and extended his hand to you, before helping you up as well. However, he kept your hand in his, lightly tugging you behind him. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, although you had a pretty good idea.

Daryl sent you a heated look, one that had a shiver rolling up your spine. “I dun’ need’a see the stars to stargaze. M’gon’ see ‘em anyways once we get to our room.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked rhetorically. “Why’s that?”

“Because m’gon’ take care’a you so good, you’re gon’ be seein’ stars, anyway.”

His words sent a lightning-like bolt straight down to your core. As you and Daryl walked into the house and creeped up the stairs, thankfully lucid enough to be mindful of the other people in the house, you could not help the excitement that filled you at the prospect of what was to come.

And as Daryl closed the door behind him and pinned you up against it, the two of you sharing sloppy, messy kisses, you thanked yourself for deciding to bring those joints back with you in the first place.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Hello! I don't know if you're still taking requests, but if you do, could I please request an imagine where the reader and eddie are best friends and the reader gets really injured when Venom is in a fight, bonus points if eddie has to do cpr to revive her. Thank you so so much!

~Hazard of Our Friendship~

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: drowning mention, knives, graphic depictions of violence

Genre: fluffy angst

Summary: Your best friend has a symbiotic alien sharing his body which means sometimes he gets attacked while you're just trying to discuss a movie.

A/N: Oh darling my asks are always open~! xo hope you like it!

***

You scoff as you listen to Eddie talk. You can't believe what he's saying.

"You're crazy! You seriously think that was better than the second one?" You ask incredulously.

"I think each movie gets better than the last." Eddie says.

"What're you smoking and how do I get some because you are clearly on something." You snort.

"I liked it I don't see the problem." He shrugs.

"That's not the question though! I liked it too but it's NOT better than the second one was!" You shake your head.

"You do this every time we see one of these movies." Eddie chuckles.

"Because the second was the best! It's in a league of its own they're never gonna do better than that." You say.

"Okay fine ye of little faith and quick judgment- what could they do to make the next movie better than the second movie?" Eddie rolls his eyes playfully.

"The second movie was just iconic! When they realize and manage to replicate the intensity with which that movie hit emotionally, they'll have another masterpiece. It's not about duplicating though, they shouldn't repeat the plot, they just need to figure out how to create a similar pull. That's what I'm looking for I need a pull and the newer movies just haven't been pulling me."

"You're insane you know that?"

"I think you need to rewatch the second movie. Clearly you aren't properly remembering the absolute magic of the second movie dude." You shake your head.

"Clearly." He snorts. A moment passes and notice something change abruptly in your friend's demeanor.

"What?" You frown at him.

"What?" He snaps his head towards you.

"Your energy shifted, something changed. Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing." He says quickly.

"You're on edge. I can see it so don't lie to me. Especially because you're starting to stress me out." You tell him.

"Venom's a little- freaked. He thinks we've got company." Eddie admits.

"Not the good kind I'm guessing. Based on your... disposition."

"Just- stay close, it'll be fine." Eddie says gently resting his hand on your arm. He's clearly on high alert, eyes scanning every darkened alley you walk by. You catch movement off to one side and grab Eddie's attention.

"E- could those be our visitors?" You ask. Eddie follows your eye.

"Fuck me- it's fine, just stay behind me." Eddie steps forward and uses his arm to nudge you behind him.

"Come on Eddie, they're just some guys. This should be easy." You say.

"Unfortunately if they've come for me it's never just some guys." Eddie sighs. "Look guys- I'm sure you don't want any trouble, whatever you think you're gonna gain from this, you'll lose a lot more- trust me." Eddie tells the group. There's maybe 5 of them it seems, but you can't be sure others aren't lurking nearby.

"Yeah- that's the bastard." One of the guys grumbles and Eddie's eyebrow furrows.

"Wait sorry- do you know me or something?" Eddie asks, tilting his head.

"You fucking jackass-" The guy is clearly appalled by Eddie's perceived audacity and starts towards you and Eddie.

"Venom." Eddie calls.

"COPY." Venom replies before overtaking Eddie. You step back a bit to accommodate the size change. Also to give him room, Venom's fighting style is- messy from what you know.

You've never actually seen them fight, although Eddie didn't try to hide Venom from you, he was very intentional about limiting your exposure to him. You're not totally sure why, but it doesn't stop you from making nice with him. Eddie swears the relationship between them is mostly symbiotically beneficial, which means he'll probably be around for a while. Which means he'll be around you for a while, and you want that to be a net positive. So you always ask about him and include him in your relationship with Eddie, and bring him chocolate any time you hang out with them. Eddie swears you spoil him so you hope that means he likes you.

Venom seems to be handling the fight pretty well, I mean he can grow appendages at will, no matter how many of them there are, they can't outmatch him.

"You're coming with me." A gruff voice says wrapping a hand around your wrist.

You snap your head around quickly.

"Fuck off. Don't touch me." You take your index and middle finger and jam them into the inner corners of his eyes.

He screams as you dig your digits in deeper.

"You're ruining movie night." You drag him forward by his eye sockets and bash his head into your knee knocking him out. "Asshole." You huff.

"Eulgch gross now my hand is covered in eye juice." You frown. You bend over and wipe your hand on his shirt.

"That's better I guess." You say stepping over the guy to wear Venom has dragged the fight, near the pier.

"Not so fast." A voice grits out behind you as arms encircle your body, trapping you.

"Hey let go of me you bastard." You grunt squirming against his hold.

Your movements stop abruptly with a sharp gasp when you feel cool metal against your throat. A knife.

"Really? An 8 foot monster is stomping out your little pals and you go for the one who isn't doing shit? Coward." You scoff.

"Shut up." He spits through clenched teeth.

"Eddie!" You call out. "No rush but when you get a second some help would be nice! VENOM!" You shout, the blade digging ever so slightly into your skin.

Venom snaps his head towards you and immediately changes his focus, heading towards you and the person holding you hostage.

Your captor walks you backwards as Venom closes in but as he reaches an appendage towards you one of the others pulls out a flamethrower. Where did he get a fucking flamethrower?!

"Venom look out!" You shout but you're not quick enough.

The fire hits him. He lets out a roar of a sound. And then retreats into Eddie, who falls to his knees.

"Eddie?!" You call frantically.

"I'm fine! Just- gotta give Venom time to recover." Eddie grunts.

"If you're fine get up and turn around you dumbass!" You shout. The guy with the flamethrower is closing in on Eddie, luckily he's dropped the thing. Not really a smart move in your opinion but it makes Eddie's chances of beating him without Venom higher.

Eddie spins on his heel just in time to dodge a wild swing from mister flamethrower.

"Woah. Shit." Eddie says. He punches the guy directly in the face and the two start a proper fist fight.

"Hang on y/n I'll be right there!" He tells you between throwing and dodging punches.

"Yeah, I wasn't planning on going anywhere!" You say.

"Could do without the sass at this moment dude!" He says.

"I've got a knife to my throat I'll do whatever I want to cope with it!" You shoot back.

"Sorry about all this!"

"Hazard of our friendship! I know how this goes!" You say.

Eddie finally takes down his opponent and turns to you. He runs in your direction, Venom at some point taking over and freaking out your captor. For a guy holding a knife to your throat he's moving incredibly reckless, stumbling backwards and dragging you with him. Right over the edge of the pier. You scream as you fall back, at least you've been released it seems. Your assailant, in trying to save himself has freed you from his grasp.

The water is a bit chilly, it's not as bad as it could be, but it is only August so it'd be weird if it was ice cold. Water fills your mouth as you sink below the surface. You try to swim up, but the other guy wraps his hand around your leg. You can't swim super well as is, the extra weight hindering your movement pretty much renders your attempt to save yourself futile. Still you flail and desperately kick at your attacker's hand, hoping that you can get him to let you go before your lungs give out. They're already starting to seriously burn.

You hate open water. Besides the fact that you're nowhere near a strong enough swimmer based on the dangers of open water like this, you can't see anything and not knowing what lurks nearby stresses you out even more.

You're starting to panic. The longer you're down here, the more undersea monsters you seem to be able to imagine. You're going to die down here and some random swimming creatures will start eating your decaying flesh and your family won't even have a body to bury when they have your funeral. Or if they manage to find you, you'll be so destroyed by critters they'll have to keep the casket closed. Honestly at this point you hope they cremate you.

The panicking isn't helping. You know it's not, and yet it's all you can do as your vision is starting to blacken around the edges. You still can't get this guy to let go of your fucking leg, and dammit you're getting too weak to keep fighting him. How is he still holding on? You feel your body go limp as you lose consciousness.

Eddie's heart drops as he watches you go over the edge of the pier. You can barely swim, you hate the open water, he has to get you out of there and fast. The only problem is it feels like these goons keep multiplying and if they have to keep fighting he'll never reach you in time.

"We have to get to y/n." Eddie says.

"WE WILL." Venom says ready to fight the next guy.

"No, now V! Fuck the fighting I don't care eat them if you have to. Just get to her!"

"GREAT PLAN." Venom's smile is enough to freak out the person standing between them and where you're currently drowning.

Eddie's counting the seconds as Venom traipses towards the water, biting off heads on the way. There's not even enough movement near the surface for Eddie to tell if you're still alive down there. It's taking you two long to come up.

"YOUR STRESS IS MAKING THIS MORE DIFFICULT EDDIE."

"I'll stop stressing when we get y/n out of the fucking water!" Eddie snaps.

"FINE!" Venom dives into the water and manages to find you surprisingly quickly, dragging your lifeless body out of the water.

"Put her down we have to do something." Eddie says.

"WHAT DO WE DO?" Venom asks.

"You watch my back while I try to remember my high school CPR class." Eddie tells him, kneeling beside you.

Pressure.

There's a pressure against your chest.

It's rhythmic, consistent, and just a couple of pascals short of risking a broken rib.

Your nose is pinched and something touches your lips. Air flows into your mouth in bursts and then again with the pressure.

Suddenly you feel water coming up and you lurch forward to expell it, coughing painfully as your body tries to get rid of the water forced into your lungs when you nearly drowned.

"God drowning sucks." You choke out, your voice coming out very raspy and it honestly hurts to say even that short sentence.

"Thank fuck." Eddie sighs, his shoulders dropping in relief.

"YOU'RE ALIVE! EDDIE WE SAVED HER." Venom pokes his head around over Eddie's shoulder.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Eddie whispers, cupping your cheek gently.

"I'm almost offended you thought I'd go out that easily." You joke, coughing again.

"Stop talking! You'll hurt yourself." Eddie says.

"Oh would you relax. I'm not dead, talking won't do me in." You roll your eyes.

"YOU SOUND LIKE YOU ARE IN PAIN." Venom says.

"Thanks V." You snort.

"Venom she just almost drowned dude." Eddie shakes his head.

"I AM TRYING TO CHECK ON HER. WHAT IS THE PROBLEM!?"

"Nothing's wrong. Don't you two start. Just- can you take me home?" You groan forcing yourself up. Eddie scrambles to his feet, helping you up until eventually Venom simply takes over and lifts you into his arms.

"Venom I'm pretty sure I can still walk ya know." You say, admittedly a bit nervous in his hold. Not that you think he'll drop you, you've just never interacted with him so directly.

"YOU SHOULDN'T STRAIN YOURSELF. AND WE ARE TAKING YOU TO OUR APARTMENT."

"What? Why?"

"SO WE CAN TAKE CARE OF YOU WHILE YOU GET BETTER."

"Get better? All I need to do is shower and go to sleep, I'll be fine." You scoff.

"EDDIE WANTS TO SEE THAT FOR HIMSELF."

"You're very lucky I don't have any more energy to argue about all this." You mutter.

Eddie counts his blessings when he hears that. Of course it would take you nearly drowning to finally allow him to look after you. Little victories he supposes. Granted saving your life is definitely way more than a little victory. You are the single most important person in his life. If he wasn't sure of that before this he's absolutely sure of it now.

***

[landopoet]

high enough.

pairing lando x piastri!reader

warnings drug use, smut

playlist so high - doja cat / slow down - chase atlantic / friends - chase atlantic / sex money feelings die - lykke li / the morning - the weeknd / cherry hill - russ

synopsis it’s not everyday you get to see your brother’s teammate take not only the edge off, but also your clothes.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You watched as the smoke rose to the ceiling after the soft puff past your lips. The swirling of smoke hypnotised you, before it twirled and disappeared into nothing.

The joint burned between your fingers when you passed it to Lando. “You have a few puffs left.”

Lando was completely out of it, practically melting into the couch when he mindlessly lifted his arm and softly plucked the joint from your fingers. You turned your head and watched as he brought it to his lips, taking a long drag before pulling the burning bud away from his face.

He could feel your gaze on him, burning about five times as hot as the smoke in his lungs. He can’t lie and say he doesn’t like you staring when all he’s been thinking of was making your eyes roll back into your head. The image of you sprawled across the couch, his lips soaked in you and moans leaving your mouth was enough to make him go crazy.

“You’re taking too long,” you rush him. He turns his head to you, half-lidded eyes hiding so much more than what he lets you see. You could look at those green hues forever, but the soft pull of his lips pulls you back into reality. Or as much of it as you can comprehend in this state.

Lando motions to the joint in his fingers. “You want another hit?”

“Yeah,” you nod, about to take the bud from his hand before he pulls it to his mouth and takes a long drag. “What the–”

Your question gets interrupted when Lando’s hand firmly grips the back of your head and pulls your face in. When he blows the smoke out, you’re quick to understand what he’s doing and suck the smoke in.

Lando smiled to himself as he pulled away, watching how starstruck you were by what he just did.

Even though all he meant to do was to shotgun smoke into your mouth, you can’t help but pull him in to close the gap between your lips. The urge to kiss him was too much to handle for you, even when sober, but the confidence to finally kiss him came when being inebriated.

Lando can’t deny that he’s been thinking the same— he’s been pondering the thought of kissing your lips way before you decided to smoke. He’s been waiting for you to make the first move, knowing you definitely would at some point, and he wasn’t wrong.

Smoke left the crevices forming between your lips as you moulded against one another, hungry hums and whimpers already leaving your throats. Lando’s hands softly pulled your hips closer to him until you ended up in his lap.

The mere feeling of you sat on him, already pulsing against him, had his mind reeling. You felt him hardening underneath you, perfectly slotting his boner against your clothed entrance.

You smirked into the kiss, a single thought popping into your head— teasing him.

The two of you had made a deal. You’d spend some time together, just as friends, before trying to be in a relationship. That seemed to work, for about three weeks, until this night when you invited Lando to hang out. It was supposed to be nothing but you watching a movie together, until you remembered the leftover weed in your grinder.

You remember the light in his eyes when he heard you mention weed. “It’s been a while since I’ve had any,” he said. But you promised to take care of him.

And take care of him you will.

Lando’s mind is a mush, any movement he makes feels like he’s slowed down or like it’s missing frames, so he doesn’t understand that you’re softly rocking your hips against him until he feels the need to fuck you again.

“Love,” his raspy voice whispers against your numb lips, fingers digging into your skin to stop your movements. “What’re you doing?”

“Hm?” You pull away, softly biting your lips as your hands brace you against his chest, hips stilling above his dick. “What do you mean?”

You watch as his lips pull into a smirk again. “Don’t play stupid,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you want me to fuck you, just say that.”

The tone of his voice mixed with the haze settling in your mind just after that last puff of smoke you had is making you think less and do more. Instead of answering him, you crash your lips onto his again and subconsciously go back to rocking your hips again.

He smirks against your mouth, guiding your hips to grind harder against him. You whimper and he catches the noise with his mouth, tongue swirling against yours when you wrap your fingers softly around the base of his neck.

Lando’s hands softly tug on the waistband of your sweatpants. “Take them off.”

You hum, lips still connected to him as you lift yourself up and tug your pants down. They pool at your knees, you still straddling Lando. “Can’t do it.”

“You want me to do it for you?” He asks, more of a mock than a laugh leaving his mouth. When you nod, eyes still half-lidded and examining him, he lays you down with your head on the armrest of the couch. You watch carefully as he softly tugs your sweatpants lower, before completely tugging them off your body.

Lando sits back, hands on your knees as he memorises the view of you— underwear soaked with your need for him, sticking to the curves of your pussy so perfectly that it leaves little to the imagination.

“Can I?” Lando asks, fingers hooking around the waistband of your panties. You nod, like you’ve been doing for pretty much this whole exchange, and he can’t help but beg you to speak. “You gotta use your words, baby.”

“Please,” you beg, voice hushed as if you’re scared anyone in your empty house would hear you. “Touch me, I need you.”

Lando laughed, almost pitifully at your state as he pulled the panties down your legs, agonisingly slow. You were too high to function enough, so your plea for him to move faster came out as an annoyed grumble.

“Impatient much?” Lando laughed, hands softly dragging their way up your legs from your ankles. When he notices the lack of response from you, he stills. “You okay? How do you feel?”

“I’m good,” you mumble, peeling your eyes open to look up at his worried eyes. “But you could make me feel much better.”

You smile at the return of his smirk. You’ve grown quite fond of it, getting used to the look of his dimples returning. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby. Are you sure you want this, though? You know what Osc would do if he found out.”

“But he won’t,” you bite back a smirk of your own, propping yourself up on your elbows. “He doesn’t have to know about everything I do.”

“Atta girl.” He smiles before positioning himself between your legs. “Lean back and relax for me, pretty.”

You do as told, laying back on the couch and looking up at the ceiling. It took you a moment to realise that he was just looking at you, admiring the view in front of him.

It’s exactly what he imagined. He couldn’t help but watch as your chest rose and fell with fast-paced breaths, anticipation creeping up your spine with each moment. It took everything he had in him not to fuck you right then and there.

Instead, he dragged his tongue through your folds, the taste of you being almost as satisfying than what he thinks fucking you will feel like. Lando wants to take it easy and make the most of your high, so that’s exactly what he’ll do.

It doesn’t take long before he hears the pretty moans fall from your lips at the mere contact of his tongue on your clit. He circles it, gently sucking on it and you feel like you’re floating in space, so relaxed and pleased that it’s almost too much to take.

“Taste so fucking good,” he groans against you, the sound vibrating through your body. You felt some pressure on your clit, his tongue circling it again.

Jagged breaths leave your lips, the feeling of his lips softly suckling on you mixed with the buzz from the joint tipped you over the edge way sooner than you’d expect. You felt the euphoria was over you as he still flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud.

“Lan,” you murmur, fingers somehow in his hair and tugging hard on it. You felt the pattern of his curls embrace your fingers as you arched your back, almost pulling away from him.

Lando wouldn’t have that. His hands firmly gripped your hips and pinned them down. Instead of letting you squirm away, he forced his tongue onto your clit harder, using the base of it to get as much surface area as he can get.

You felt dizzy. It’s the first time you’ve done anything sexual while high and it was better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You almost feel numb, as if you were melting into the couch.

Lando felt your hips tense in his hands, knowing you’re close to tipping over the edge, so he does what he promised you he’d do. He makes you feel the fucking best.

His tongue licks you like he’s a starved man, thirsty for anything he can get his pretty little lips on. And it just so happened to be you.

Lando basks in the pretty whimpers leaving your mouth and the flavour of you on his tongue, not noticing how he let one of his hands travel down to his dick. He palms himself through the fabric of his grey sweatpants, a wet spot already evident.

You feel him moan into your pussy, sending that last nervous impulse that makes you finish all over his mouth. He laps you up, satisfied groans and moans escaping between shallow breaths.

Lando keeps his lips on your skin, kissing your thighs before softly biting them. He mumbles something to you but you can’t hear, too busy looking at the pathetic mess of a man at the end of the couch— sloppily marking your thighs while he continues to palm himself.

“Let me help you,” you whisper and he whips his head up. You watch as he sits up, tugging his sweats down and leaving his boxers on.

Lando watches as you straddle his thighs and softly tug down the Jack&Jones waistband of his boxers. He hisses when his dick flings up and slaps against his clothed abdomen.

It’s your turn to hear the string of curse words and moans leave his mouth as you drag his tip across your folds before sinking onto him, his dick filling you up in just the right way.

“Fuck, baby,” he hums contently, one of his hands palming the back of your neck before he pulls you in for a kiss. “You take me so well, so fucking well.”

You whimper into his mouth, slowly moving your hips after getting used to the size of him. His breath hitches, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you sink back onto him again.

The pace of you riding him quickens in no time, the noise of skin-on-skin contact filling up the empty space of your room.

Lando’s fingers tangle in your hair as he turns your head to the side, lips making a trail of kisses down from your jaw and ending at your collarbone, with the occasional hickey or nibble between kisses.

“Lando,” you moan his name the second you make contact with your clit, lazily rubbing it to match the pace of your hips clashing against his.

His lips make contact with yours again, kissing you with an aggression you’ve never felt before. It was borderline addicting, kissing you. Like a drug Lando knows he would never stop taking.

“You sound so pretty moaning my name,” he mumbles between kisses, not long before his tongue tastes your mouth again.

“I’m close,” you whine, arm tired from rubbing your clit. Lando notices the twitch of your hand and takes over, his thumb matching the pace you had set before.

His hips buckle and a knot forms in your lower belly at the feeling of him pulsing even deeper inside you, your walls embracing his length perfectly. “Me too. Think you can gimme another one?”

“Mhm,” you nod, eagerly. “Please.”

“You don’t have to beg for me to make you cum, princess.” His mocking tone soothes your ears. It’s quite an opposite feeling from the harsh grip he has on your hip with his left hand, the other still toying your throbbing clit.

It’s a few seconds before you feel a warmth filling you up, a string of moans and curses leaving Lando’s lips. It doesn’t take long for you to do the same, head tilted back and chest heaving with hasty breaths and an unsteady heartbeat.

Lando’s hands still guide your hips for a bit longer, before coming to a halt. The green in his eyes traces all over your face, looking for a sign of anything negative. Instead he finds that you’re grinning.

“You good?” He asks, fingers softly tucking the strands of hair that stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Never been better,” you reciprocate the same thing, playing with the curls at the front of his head. “But you fucked me so good I’m not high anymore.”

“Want me to roll another one?”

“No,” you lean in and close the gap between your lips. “Kissing you gets me high enough.”

© all rights reserved.

[sturn777]

HEYYYYY!! CAN U PLS WRITE SMTH AB DEALER READER SEEINF FB CHRIS POST W ANOTHER GIRL?? AND SHE DOESNT RLLY HAVE A RIGHT TO BE MAD CAUSE THEYVE JS BEEN HOOKING UP FOR A WHILE, BUT SHE STILL IS. AND HES ALL CHILL AB IT AND ITS PISSING HER OF.

dealer!reader getting jealous . | ( female!reader ) wc ?? ( library ) + ( request )

lana's note : hi anon 🤍 !! hope i did ur ask justice <3 currently going thru all reqs and trying to cook smth up !

꒰ა " you claim you know me better than i know myself, you're right . " ໒꒱

you’re lying on chris’ bed, scrolling mindlessly through instagram as the faint scent of weed drifts through the cracked window. he’s next to you, leaning back against the headboard, blunt between his fingers, looking like every bad decision you’ve ever made wrapped up in a hoodie and sweatpants.

you weren’t planning to scroll, but the glow of your phone and boredom got the best of you. that’s when you see it—a post from him, a mirror selfie with some girl hanging off his shoulder, with her silky hair and her too-perfect nails tracing along his hoodie like she owns him. the caption? some dumb, cocky line about the “night being young.”

you don’t even realize your jaw is tightening until chris shifts beside you, his voice cutting through the haze. “yo, what’s up with you?” you glance at him, then back at your phone, a sharp scoff escaping your lips. “nothing. just funny how some people don’t know how to act.”

he raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “oh, we throwing shade now? that about me, ma?”

“who else would it be about?” you snap back, shoving your phone onto the bed and crossing your arms. your bratty tone doesn’t even phase him—it never does. chris takes a long drag from the blunt, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “so, what, you mad ‘cause I posted a pic? girl’s just a friend. ain’t that deep.”

you roll your eyes dramatically, turning away from him like you’re above this conversation. “please. i don’t care. do what you want.” he laughs, low and rough, leaning over to pluck your phone off the bed and wave it in your face. “nah, you definitely care. look at you, all pouty and shit. cute.”

“you’re insufferable,” you mutter, grabbing for your phone, but he pulls it out of reach, smirking like he’s enjoying every second of this. “yeah, but you like it,” he shoots back, his free hand trailing lazily over your thigh. “c’mon, ma. don’t get all worked up. i’m right here, ain’t i?”

you glare at him, but his hand keeps moving, brushing against the hem of your shorts, his fingers warm and deliberate. god, he’s so cocky, so annoyingly laid back, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. “still mad?” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, his lips brushing against your jaw as his hand slides higher.

you hate how easily he gets under your skin, how he can flip the script with just a touch. “you’re so full of yourself,” you whisper, but your breath hitches as his mouth finds your neck, leaving a trail of heat behind.

“maybe,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice smug as his hands tug you closer, “but you’re still here, ain’t you?”

and just like that, he’s got you again, tangled up in him, forgetting all about the stupid post and the stupid girl because right now, it’s just him and you, and that’s all that matters.

taglist : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @flouqissss ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 )

[sturniolocafe]

star shopping

summary: making music has been chris' passion for years, but is that passion enough to keep you to stay? (based off star shopping by lil peep) pairing: rapper!chris x feminine!reader warnings: angst, talks of depression, weed use, arguing a note from lilah 𐙚: hey so i'm sorry for this. (lowercase intended!)

chris sighed, throwing a green celtics cap over his hair and sliding on his sneakers. he knew you were going to have something to say about this, but right now, he couldn’t risk the loss of this new beat. he’d been hitting a wall with making his beats fit his lyrics for weeks now, hence why he was getting ready to go meet with his producer at 11:30 pm, spurred on by the “dude, i swear to god i just hit the fucking jackpot” text.

you raised your brows as you stepped out of the bathroom, towel on your head and plush robe wrapped around your body. “where are you going?” you asked, watching as chris grabbed his wallet and keys. 

“they need me in the studio,” he mumbled. “i’ll be back in the morning.”

“whatever.” you hummed coolly, brushing past your boyfriend (if you could even call him that) to get to your vanity. 

“c’mon baby, don’t be mad. this is the one.” chris insisted, trying to smooth things over. 

“i’m not mad,” you said flatly, smoothing your moisturizer over your skin. “just go. i’ll probably be gone for work when you get back, so i’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“baby,” chris practically begged, standing near your vanity, but not in your space so he didn’t upset you. “i know i fuck up. i know that i haven’t been a good boyfriend lately. i know you probably don’t want to end up with me, but i love you. you are so much more than gorgeous to me. i want to be with you for the rest of my life. please don’t doubt how much i love you.”

“chris, not tonight. just go.”

“i know i’m not worth your time right now; trust me, i know that. but i also know that i can work on it if you give me time. i can make this album and then we’ll be set, baby, i swear. just let me work on it.”

“you’ve been saying that.” you pointed out, trying to swallow the lump in your throat at the brunette’s words. 

“you’re losing your patience, and i don’t blame you.”

“chris!” you sighed, unintentionally slamming your eye cream down on the vanity. “i’ve been waiting for you to work on it for over two years. two whole rotations around the sun. i believe in you and i believe in your art, but i feel like i’m waiting for something that won’t come. it’s not paying our bills!

chris bit his lip, knowing you had a point. art couldn’t be rushed, but he had been in the process of writing this album for over two years, all while you single handedly paid the bills. the only time that the two of you truly had a connection was when you had sex. you’d look into chris’ deep blue eyes, allowing your hormones to take over and make you feel like maybe everything was okay, despite the fact that you two only had about one true conversation per week. 

“i know.” he mumbled quietly. 

“maybe,” your voice trembled as you began to argue. “maybe my friends are right. maybe i should break up with you. i can’t keep doing this, chris. i’ve worked my ass off to make sure we’re taken care of, and the way you pay me back is by leaving at almost midnight? seriously?”

“ma, you know i’m gonna make it happen one day,” chris pleaded. “as soon as this album comes out, i’m taking you overseas. we’ll go wherever you want, baby. we can smoke and stay in luxury hotels and-” chris was cut off when you interrupted him. 

“that’s what you want, chris. not me. i don’t give a fuck about weed or being overseas. all i want is for this, for us, to be a partnership.” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

for some reason, despite what your instincts were telling you, you didn’t protest when chris pulled you into a hug, burying his nose in your freshly washed hair. “i’m sorry, baby. i know i’m nothing like what you or your family or anyone else wants me to be. but at the end of the day, i would give up my life for you. you’ve given up yours for me. you’ve taken care of me during my bad days, you’ve supported me through everything. i understand if you don’t want to anymore.”

“chris…” you croaked out, voice thick with tears. “i love you, i do love you. i just…miss you. i feel like you’re never home. i miss us.”

the brunette felt like he’d just received a blow to the gut. how could he have been so caught up in some dumb album that he had ignored the most important thing in his life? “i know, baby. i am so, so sorry. i…” chris pulled out his phone, fingers flying over the screen, before he shoved the device back into his pocket. “i’m yours for the rest of the night. shoutout to everyone making my beats, but you’re more important. music’s what helped me when i fell to pieces, so now it’s my turn to do that for you.”

you simply nodded into his chest, not quite forgiving him, but not having the chance to argue anymore either. you didn’t even protest under chris grabbed your hips, lifting you off the vanity stool and carrying you to the door that led from your master bedroom to the balcony of your chicago apartment. like any large city, lights were still aglow on the tall skyscrapers and traffic honked below you, but by some miracle, you could faintly see the stars in the velvety blue nighttime sky.  

“all of those stars have a reason they’re here,” chris mumbled. “i hope i find that reason for me…for us.”

you hummed quietly against in his chest in your robe. things weren’t okay right now, they probably wouldn’t be for a long time, but you were too exhausted to argue. you knew chris loved you, you knew you loved him, but you also knew that you couldn’t spend the rest of your life waiting around for what he might do. 

a/n: yeoWCH....thank you for reading bbys!

[thewitchblue]

Recluse, Part Two: The Society

You woke up on a medical cott in a cave. You tried to remember how you got there or what happened. This didn't look like the medical unit at the Society HQ. You looked around and noticed the location you are in.

With a groan, you started to sit up only to realise you couldn't. You had metal pinning you down. You heard Venom growl,

"These assholes are dead when you tear off this metal pinning you."

You pursed your lips. First, you needed to find something to use as an escape. Unfortunately, the part of the cave you were put in seemed to be mostly empty. Nothing within grasp or range of your webs.

At least you still had your teleportation methods to escape. You asked for your device to look like a ring. Boring, unassuming. It was designed to look cheap, but it was the most complex device that you made.

You sighed as you took a look around. Nobody was around, thankfully, but you needed an escape route.

What the fuck did the Batfam do to you while you were unconscious? Where are you? It doesn't matter. You can teleport back home and someone will be there to fix the sedative and send antidotes to add to the database.

You stretched, which ripped the metal cuffs on your limbs easily. You sat up and began tugging at the metal around your midsection, but you found it wasn't as easy to break.

You tugged at the lock that's in place with a frown. It was melded together, crudely, at that. It seemed like the welder panicked when they melded the metal together. You remember vaguely waking up to see blurred figures standing over you with a disapproving gentleman in the background, who was incredibly disappointed in your captors. You sighed. Maybe you could portal the medical cott to escape, if the metal wouldn't budge.

"How are you feeling?"

You heard a voice asked. Your eyes snapped to see a child in front of you. His expression was hard, but his eyes seemed almost soft. You could feel more than one pair of eyes, so you sarcastically replied,

"Like your chicken friend just hit me with a train."

You picked up the pattern. You'd be stupid not to. The dark, dingy cave would only fit Batman and this is his little sidekick. You do a bit of research for each universe before going to the universe so you are prepared for whatever. They are his patchwork family. You could see it all so clearly because you have that patchwork family. You watched all your actual family members die, but the Society became your family. You hijacked Miles's family when you are in his universe. You became a "distant cousin from a different country" when you are with Miles's family.

"I'm sorry. Drake tripped."

You rolled your eyes at the weak excuse. With an uncapped needle in his hand? Unlikely. However, now that you had someone close... maybe you could use Robin to your advantage. Your eyes scanned his suit before landing on his utility belt. An idea, a hope, began to form.

You quickly webbed Robin's utility belt and pulled it to you. The belt clicked off his waist at your tug, and you thanked the universe for not ripping the cloth.

There's surely something in the belt to aid your escape. You grinned when you found a means to escape. A small bomb that you recognise was graverobbed off Harry'suitcases corpse. Finally success!

You strapped the bomb to your welded metal. Thankfully, there was no release latch on this type of bomb so there was nothing Robin could do about it. Robin's eyes widened, but he had no choice but to flee. You used a smoke bomb just as the bomb exploded.

You stumbled in pain as bits of metal flew across the room. Yeah, you definitely broke your hips and likely had some metal embedded in you. Whatever. It will all heal in time. You needed to get home.

You used your ring just in time for Robin to tackle you into the portal.

You quickly shut the portal before more followed. You squirmed under his iron grasp while you fall on the cold hardwood floor of the HQ. Pain rams through you as your hips slam to the floor. Robin's grasp was the only thing grounding you to consciousness, so you draw him closer in your arms. Your arms were weakened, so you couldn't fight nearly as hard as you could when someone took Robin away.

You vaguely heard Miguel screaming at you and watch Robin get taken away, overwhelmed by the sheer number of spider people surrounding him and ready to take on a 12 year old boy.

"Miguel, I think they are hurt."

You don't see who spoke, but you nodded and gestured to your lower body before collapsing. Your bones felt like they were vibrating and your muscles felt like liquorice when it was being pulled.

Miguel cursed loudly but gently picked you up and carried you to medbay, where Robin was getting checked for injuries as well. He was put on soft restraints, likely because of him fighting to return to your side, but you barely noticed.

The doctors and nurses cursed when they saw you and ran. If you were more lucid, you'd see the guilty look on Robin's face. Unfortunately for him, all his trackers in his utility belt items were destroyed by the bomb and damaged beyond repair.

"You are so fucking lucky you have an insane healing factor. You would have died!"

One of the doctor's scolded at you. Your hearing was coming back and your bones, now set, were healing perfectly fine. You scoff. With folded arms, you bitterly reply,

"I'd rather die than be a prisoner."

The staff all quieted at that. They knew you were imprisoned at your home universe, but they don't know the extent of the torture. Only Miguel knew and he's been particularly protective ever since he discovered you.

"I'm sorry. We were worried sick. Miguel, especially. He wanted to go out to get you, but your trackers were disabled. We feared the worst."

You nodded with a sigh. You felt a rib snap into place as the action and cursed loudly in Spanish.

You should have known to do that fight while invisible. You could have. You didn't have to expose yourself, but you felt like goblin would have done more damage to civilians if you were invisible. He needed a target to focus his energy on, and you were happy to be that target if it meant the civilians (and the heroes) were safer.

"You are never going back to that universe."

Miguel said coldly. His red eyes lingered on you as his eyes scanned your already healed body and then counted the metal shards removed from your body. Over one hundred shards were removed. You immediately countered while gesturing to Damian,

"I can't just kidnap a child! I have to bring him back."

Miguel borderline growled,

"Then we'll get someone else to bring him back. You are staying here."

You sighed. You knew he'd be pissed, but you weren't prepared for his calm anger. He's normally the explosive type, but he's deadly calm this time. This was a command, not a request or a demand.

"You can't keep me locked here! I have to go back and right my wrongs. Who would I be if I didn't at least return the child?"

He hissed as he approached,

"A smart one! You are banned from that universe. I will be altering your device to remove that universe."

You pursed your lips. You had to right your wrongs. At all cost.

"I'm bringing him back. I don't have to interact with anyone, just throw him back to the universe."

Miguel shook his head. He should have expected you to be the noble one and return the child personally. He said sternly,

"If you must go, I'm going with you and you are bringing your webs."

You bit your lip but relented. At least you'd be returning the child.

"And I'm implanting more trackers and embedding your ring to your finger. We're engaged. You can't just walk away like that and not expect me to panic."

A doctor pipped up with a nervous chuckle,

"It's true. It was like trying to calm down a tiger. It was impossible until you stumbled in."

You huffed an amused laugh and kissed his hand.

"I'm safe, corazón mío (my heart)."

He nodded but bit his lip with his fangs. You could see the anxiety in his still cooling red eyes.

"Lo siento (I'm sorry). I... I can't lose you. Me destruiría. (It would destroy me)."

You smiled softly at him as you took his hand. You love him deeply. You asked,

"What are we going to do with the child in the meantime? We can't imprison him with the rest of the anomalies."

Miguel said a bit playfully,

"We can always keep him as our kid."

You know he was only half-joking. He wants a kid with you, and Damian's the perfect candidate. You have to keep the child close either way. You eyed the boy strapped to the bed next to you. You considered it for a moment before you admitted,

"I don't want him to be cursed like us."

Miguel sighed, but the child seemed to perk up. He seemed to like the idea of you becoming his family and who was Miguel to deny you?

"I can handle myself in a fight, alwalid."

He was already calling you his parent. Your gaze softened as you walk to his bedside. You took his hand in yours and asked,

"You want to be with us? What about your father?"

He shrugged as best he could while trapped. You eyed the restraints before your gaze turned back to Damian. He said plainly,

"I lived without him before. I can live without him now."

You frowned and looked at Miguel, who also shrugged. He seemed to have a long conversation with you through just a look before finally saying,

"It's your call. We always wanted children, but I'll admit I'm worried about the history."

You sighed and turned your attention back to the little Robin. You carefully undo his restraints and eyed him warily for a moment. You knew you could take him in. You have the space at home and the perfect partner to aid you. Miguel says,

"If we adopt you, we have to do it by the book. We can't just kidnap you. Your dad will tear the multiverse apart to find you again."

Damian nodded. He's fine with that. He loved your strength and your resolve. Your sense of moral seemed strong, even if you are young and faced many tragedies. You nodded your agreement while softly smiling. You already were growing to love the child, but it's hard to tell if it's because of your strong desire for children or because of this child specifically. After all these years of wanting a child, one falls right into your lap. Damian tugged on your shirt lightly to get your attention.

"Alwalid, it might go better if only you go. He might find Miguel... hostile. The fangs and red eyes would make him falter in his decision for you to adopt me."

Miguel looked like he wanted to fight the claim but you gave Miguel a stern look and draw Damian into your arms.

"If you want this child, you have to let me go this one time."

Miguel looked Damian over, and Damian tried to look demure and loveable. After a long pause and another conversional look between you both, Miguel nodded.

"If you don't come back by tomorrow, estoy arrastrando tu culo de vuelta auqí por tus tobillos. (I'm dragging your ass back here by your ankles)."

You flashed a grin and nodded. You gave him a quick kiss and said,

"Te amo, mi corazón (I love you, my heart). I'll come back!"

Miguel grumbled but allowed you to enter the portal back to Damian's universe after a long kiss Damian had to look away from with a disgusted face.

Miguel didn't like the way Damian smirked as you entered the portal. Miguel shot Miles a quick text about it. It's his universe, after all. Maybe his spider sense is paranoid, or maybe his worry isn't unfounded.

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

7 - Highway To The Danger Zone

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: mentions of smutty things but none, otherwise nothing spectacular

A/N: Please don't hesitate to reblog and leave comments! I wanna know what y'all think! Pop on over to my Twisters story if you haven't read that for a Jake cameo too! Yes, this story and that one are connected! This is part 2 of that series. Part 3 will be coming soonish, and even as I'm writing part 3, stuff for these two fics will still be written! Please enjoy! And keep an eye on the playlists as they'll be getting updated again soon too!

Taglist: @mrsevans90

Playlist

Jake awoke early as usual, but groggy as fuck. They hadn't had any alcohol so the only thing he could think of as a reason for that was how extremely turned on he had been last night. He hadn't been that horny in years. In his book, that had been some of the best sex he'd ever had. Even better than that Captain he'd fucked in Lemoore while they were off duty. And she was a smoke show if nothing else. But with Sam it felt different. It was different. So different.

Jake's heart was dictating all of his actions. The way he felt for Sam in just a couple of short weeks had him reeling. It had him acting fucking silly. He couldn't explain what exactly it was because it was so many things, but he knew what had sparked it. Her attitude. She was sassy and confident and she had been so last night in bed too. There had been a shared dominant energy in the room that Jake had enjoyed. The majority of women he'd been with just wanted to fuck a navy guy so they pretty much let him do whatever so he rarely went down on them. He had a hard and fast rule that his mouth didn't go below the belt if he didn't know the girl well enough, and he always used a condom. 

He knew he was going to break both of those rules for Sam. He almost did last night. He’d almost let her trick him into sliding in without the condom, but he stopped himself. He wanted this relationship to work, but neither of them needed any more stress than they already had. Her stresses were his. He’d promised that. He begged her to let him take some of the strain, to dump it on him when she needed it. 

He felt her stir beside him, as she rolled to face away from him. She pressed her ass up against his hard morning wood and he groaned and his eyes rolled back from how goddamn good she felt. While he had elected to put his boxers back on last night, Sam had decided against clothing and Jake was more than thankful for that. He ran his finger tips up and down her side so feather light that as she awoke, her brain was not aware of it, but her body responded with a shiver anyway. Her back was arched slightly, so Jake let his hand travel across the soft skin and up to her shoulders, where he massaged for a few moments each. He could see the smile forming on her lips as she rolled again to face him.

“Sleep well, pretty girl?” He asked and she nodded, opening one eye to look at him.

“Did you? Also, is that a missile in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” She giggled and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer so that he could kiss her. His lips met her forehead first, then the tip of her nose, and then her mouth. She shrugged away slightly, trying to bury her face in his chest but he wouldn’t let her.

“Ah, don’t get shy on me now. Course I’m happy to see you.” He said and reached a hand down to tilt her chin up. He kissed her, this time poking his tongue out. She shook her head.

“I have morning breath.” She whispered and he kissed her again. She laughed louder this time, forgetting to care that anyone else might be home.

“Yuh, I do too, so what? Actually, my breath probably smells like your pussy. That was a pretty good night time snack I had.” He growled and Sam gently punched him in the chest.

“Jake!” She barked with a huge smile.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed, and then he almost spilled the beans, “Sam, I lov-like you...I like you a lot...”

“I like you too, Jake. A lot.” She said back, tilting her head and leaving her chocolate brown eyes to cast a spell on him and he was all too willing to let it happen. 

They took their time getting dressed, stealing kisses and passing touches here and there. For several moments, Sam felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She didn't feel the pain of impending grief, nor the thought of being without her father and best friend. All she was thinking about was Jake.

Sam led Jake down to the kitchen where her mom was making Ice a smoothie. Ice turned in his seat and smiled. Her mother took a sip of her coffee and tapped her foot as she looked at the two young adults.

“Samantha...what's the rule about boys?” Her mother asked and Ice had a shit eating grin on his face.

‘Mom...I just graduated college...” Sam scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. 

“And you still live in this house until you find your own. What's the rule?” She scolded. Sam sighed and Jake bit his lip feeling like he was the one in trouble.

“No sleeping over.” Sam said and Jake's eyes went wide. 

Sarah smiled and shook her head as Ice made a motion as if to say ‘no harm done’ as Sarah spoke again. “Just tell us next time so I can make him breakfast too.” 

Sam grinned slyly and Ice stood, kissing this daughter on the forehead. His gaze met Jake's, who straightened up and saluted. Ice saluted him back and waved his hand as if to say ‘at ease’. Ice headed out to the back porch and Sarah followed, but turned before closing the door.

“Oh, Sam, there's a few large yellow envelopes on your father's desk. Could you bring them to the naval base and give them to Beau?” she asked. Sam nodded and said, “Sure.”

Sam went to get the envelope and when she came back, Jake was checking his watch and phone. She placed the envelopes on the counter in front of him. “How long is your day today?”

“Should be done around one, why?” He asked and she smirked.

“I'll come with you for the day.” She said and she nearly ran to grab her laptop bag and change her clothes. Jake wasn't going to argue, partially because, even though he wanted to keep this a secret in some capacity, he did also want to flaunt the fact that he and Sam were seeing each other. Although, he was pretty sure the cat was well out of the bag after the other day. He glanced at his watch again. They'd have to grab something for breakfast on the way. She came out dressed in a black pencil skirt with a pretty plaid blouse and low black heels. Jake's eyes went wide.

“Why?” He motioned to what she was wearing with the biggest grin on his face.

“Oh I have to hop on a Zoom call for work at ten. I actually do have to be dressed despite what people think about remote work. They expect me to look the part.” She explained and he nodded.

“Well, you look the part.” He said and wrapped his arms around her waist as they headed to the door. “And you look like I wanna show you off.” 

🛩️🛩️🛩️

“Hey, did Hangman come home last night?” Phoenix asked Coyote as they got out of their cars together. Bob, Rooster, Payback and Fanboy were all waiting outside their cars and trucks as well, as they liked to walk in as a group. 

“Uh...I never heard his truck, no.” Coyote said, just as Jake’s black Ford pulled up and parked.

“Holy...shit...” Fanboy said as they watched Hangman step down out of the truck and go around to the passenger side, helping none other than Samantha Kazansky, the Commander’s daughter, out like a princess coming out of her carriage. They all stared as Hangman reached behind her, his other hand on her waist, and grabbed her bag for her. He swung it over his shoulder, making clear that he would carry it for her. She tugged on it and he just pushed his nose toward her with a wide smirk. That classic Hangman grin, that had so many ladies swoon for him, seemed to be aimed in a different way, as if he wasn’t trying to impress her. It was more casual, less flirty. His expression seemed softer in a way that none of them had ever seen before.

“What the fuck.” Rooster said, shaking his head, and they watched Hangman pull Samantha in close and kiss her. They’d all seen him make out with girls before, but this wasn’t his typical manner. The way he held her, it was like he didn’t want to lose her. It was like he couldn’t afford to lose her. And they all noticed it.

“You know they’re all looking, right?” Sam mused as they headed toward the front doors of the main building. Jake just nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll catch shit for it later too, but I don’t give a fuck anymore. Want them to know you’re my girl.” He murmured. “Uh...I’ll come with you to the Vice Admiral’s office.” He said, as they headed through the front doors. He glanced to his left, remembering that there was a photo of her father and Maverick there in the lobby. They stopped there for a moment and Sam’s jaw worked as she looked at the photo.

“He was so young. He never got to take me up in the air like he wanted...” She said solemnly and Jake glanced down at her. 

“I’ll make it happen. I’ll take you up there someday. Promise.” He said and Sam gazed up at him, eyes slightly misty. He pressed a feather light kiss to her forehead, and they decided to head up to the Vice Admiral’s office. When they approached, Cyclone and Warlock were sitting, and Maverick was standing, briefing them on his lesson plan for the day. Sam knocked on the door and Cyclone perked up.

“Samantha...Hangman...come in.” He said, both of them entering, Jake’s hand on the small of her back as they approached the Vice Admiral’s desk. Jake then folded his arms behind his back, at attention for his superiors. “At ease, Lieutenant.” Cyclone said and Jake relaxed his posture and leaned a little closer to Sam. Maverick tilted his head and a corner of his lips turned up. Sam reached in her bag, taking the envelopes out and placing them on the desk in front of Cyclone.

“My father asked me to drop these off to you. I was also wondering if you didn’t mind me borrowing an office or a conference room for the day, sir?” She asked and Cyclone smiled warmly at her.

“Anything for Ice’s daughter.” He said softly and then his eyes locked on Jake. Everyone’s eyes locked on Jake, in fact.

“Sir. I’d like to inform you that Samantha and I are in a relationship. I hope this won’t affect my position or fitness for this mission.” Jake said and Cyclone nodded.

“If her father is fine with it, then your relationship with her will be viewed objectively and have no effect on your position.” He said and Jake nodded. Sam knew by doing this, he was trying to make sure that he wasn't given any special treatment. He wanted a fair chance at being selected for this mission. He needed no special favors just because he was seeing Iceman’s daughter. He wanted no special favor for it. He wanted work and pleasure completely separate.

“Thank you, sir.” Jake said and Cyclone dismissed them both. 

🛩️ 🛩️ 🛩️

Sam settled into a conference room, which was across the hall from the ready room where Jake and his co-pilots were going to be going over their plan for the day. She’d just opened her laptop and was typing, while waiting for the Zoom call to come in. She heard a knock and looked up to see Nat. She stood and they met in the middle of the room, in a hug.

“Hey...um...can we talk a minute?” Nat asked and Sam nodded. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I feel like I have been there for you...”

“No...you’re busy. This mission is super important.” Sam said, and Nat shook her head.

“But I could be making time for you like Jake is...” She said and Sam’s brow furrowed. Nat spoke again before Sam could. “I am happy for you...I’m just surprised you picked him.”

“He kinda picked me...he’s really nice, Nat. He just doesn’t show it because he thinks it’ll make him look weak.” Sam said.

“As a woman in the Navy...I get that. But he doesn’t have to be such a dick...” Nat said, agreeing with Jake’s facade, because she had one of her own to uphold. 

“Hey...I have an idea...Come to dinner. Please?” Sam begged and Nat scrunched her nose at the thought.

“With Bagman? Hard Pass. It’s enough that I deal with him here, I really don’t need to spend time with him outside of work.” She said and Sam grabbed her hands.

“C’mon Nat, please? For me? I swear he'll be on his best behavior. Bring Bob too if you want.” Sam said and Nat figured it wouldn't hurt to give him another chance. One more chance. Nat left Sam with that as they heard her computer trying to connect the Zoom call she'd been waiting for. Sam sat back down and she saw the pilots, including her boyfriend, file into the ready room. Maverick poked his head into the room that Sam was in to say a quick hello and then headed in to instruct for the day. 

Sam glanced over every once in a while and she saw that air of arrogance in Jake that he was so well known for. It oozed from him even as he just sat there. He knew he was the best of the best and he wasn't going to let anyone think he wasn't. 

Maverick finished his speech for the morning and then dismissed the pilots to go get their flight gear on. Sam was taking notes, not only on her call, but also about Jake as he walked out of the room. Sure, he had Javy, but no one else seemed to want to be involved in even light conversation with him. Sam felt bad because she sort of knew who he was behind the scenes, but she knew most of his copilots would never see that side of him and then she understood what his call sign meant to them. They didn't trust him and they knew he was in this for himself. He thought he was the hero and they didn't. And that was another part of why Sam gave him a chance.

🛩🛩🛩

When their day was done, Jake came into the conference room and sat down while he waited for Sam to finish up another call. He had changed back into his khakis and a black tank that showed off his biceps. Sam couldn't help but let her eyes wander, seeing him reclined in a chair, scrolling on his phone. She wondered what had his attention so fully, drawing a smirk from him. He glanced over at one point and their eyes met, both smiling wide. 

Sam rattled off some numbers and statistics that her boss asked for and Jake was impressed, his gaze settling on her as he placed his phone down. He’d never been with a girl that was as smart as Sam. As her call ended, he picked his phone up again and stood from his chair. She sat down at hers, as she’d been standing while reading figures to her boss. Jake had assumed she just needed to stretch. He prowled over to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She glanced up at him, then finished typing on her laptop, and closed it.

‘What had your attention so intently?” She asked and he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He wrapped his arms around her and put his phone in front of her. He was on Instagram. On her profile. He was looking at pictures of her from two summers ago, when she visited Virginia Beach. When she had her fling with Rooster. But she didn’t know if Jake knew that, because he’d probably kill Rooster if he did.

“You’re fuckin’ hot, y’know that? Can’t believe how gorgeous you are.” He murmured next to her ear and pressed his nose to her temple. She reached up and ran her fingers through his short hair, her nails scratching his scalp and making him push into her more. He loved when she put her fingers in his hair. 

“So...I invited Nat and Bob to dinner later? You pick where.” Sam said and she felt Jake tense.

“Okay...then you come over to my place after...you’ve never been.” He said, something uneasy about his tone, so she agreed without question. That was only fair. 

🛩🛩🛩

Jake found a place, a little hole in the wall Mexican taqueria on the waterfront. He and Sam arrived first and acquired seating. Jake ordered a round of beers for himself, Nat, and Bob, and a cider beer for Sam. Jake had decided a plain black shirt with the sleeves rolled and jeans were good for tonight, and Sam used it as an excuse to put on a pretty pink dress, a thin cottony fabric that sat off one of her shoulders. Jake was going to make sure he paid special attention there tonight as her neck was exposed and was prime real estate for kissing.

“You sure they'll show? I’m pretty sure they all hate me at this point.” Jake said, leaning back against the booth they were sat in and placing his arm across the top of it, a partially possessive gesture as his hand laid lazily off the back of the booth, fingers brushing her shoulder. 

“Nat wouldn't skip on me. She's been my best friend for so long. She knows I wouldn't forgive her.” Sam said, and Jake could her the confidence in her voice.

“If you say so...oh...shit...they did show.”  He took a swig of his beer and looked up, just as Nat and Bob came through the front door. They walked over to the table that they'd gotten, in the corner of the room. They said hi and sat. Jake thought it odd to see them out of uniform or flight suits. Bob looked relaxed in jeans and t-shirt and Nat had decided on a pretty black dress with quarter sleeves. 

“Did you order yet?” Nat asked and Sam smiled.

“Got you both a beer and some chips and salsa. I've heard it's great here.” They both smiled and there was a bit of an awkward silence in the air as Jake pushed their  beers toward them. They each took a sip just as the chips and salsa arrived. The waitress gave them a few more minutes with the menu and they decided to get a couple flights of different types of tacos to try. There was another moment of awkward silence as the three pilots seemed to be trying to figure out what to talk about. Sam on the other hand, had snuck a selfie and sent it to her friend, Shelby, who responded immediately.

Shelby: holy fuck hes gorgeous

“So...you two are seeing each other?” Bob asked, which made Sam look up from her phone. Her and Nat reached for chips and salsa at the same time and bumped their hands together on purpose with a laugh. 

“Been seeing each other, yes.” Jake said, letting his arm slip off the back of the booth and across Sam’s shoulders fully.

“Been seeing? Wait for how long?” Bob asked.

“Since the beginning of the detachment. When I asked her out and she said yes to dinner. I saw her the next day. And the next, and every single day after.” Jake explained.

“Hangman actually goes on second dates?” Bob said with a lilt of humor in his voice.

“Hangman goes on many dates apparently.” Nat said, wiggling her brows at Sam. She knew that they’d be spending time together, but Nat didn’t know quite how much time. So when Nat told him to be there the other day, he had already been and continued to be. Meaning he had also seen how bad Ice was. Nat could then only assume that Jake was beginning to understand the effect it was having on Sam.

“Yeah.” Sam said, running her hand up and down his bicep. He glanced at her, and actually smiled at Nat and Bob. And it looked genuine. By the time their food arrived, the tension between everyone had loosened significantly and by the end of the dinner, Nat and Bob could almost say they enjoyed hanging out with Jake Seresin outside of work.

[sageispunk]

this was so hot!!! like i cant even...i need soft dom! fontaine so bad i can't even SPEAK

✨ Pillow Time ✨

a/n: I've been inspired by the likes of @mcondance @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk and so many more of the lovely writers who has been feeding meeee wit the Fontaine thoughts! I hope you all like it!

warnings: Smut, MINORS DNI, 18+, Cursing, oral sex, cockwarming, needy!reader, softdomvibes!fontaine, long-fic

You had a very special pillow.

It was peach pink and white, made from the plushiest yarn that you found on a whim. It stayed fluffy and you could sit on it and still see the corners peek out when you're cross legged.

You often referred to it as one of your best creations. It reminded him of those cartoon pillows that would swallow anyone up if they sat in it. Ya'll had some good times with that pillow.

Fontaine called it your 'Princess Pillow'.

You were standing near him now, that pillow hugged to your body with your bright eyes peeking over the top at him. Fontaine was on the couch, rolling up and watching Coming to America.

"Feel like being good fo' me?" He asked, teasing as if he didn't know the answer. Fontaine watched you shift from one foot to the other, your smile fighting it's way onto your face as you nodded.

Nothing else for him to say. Fontaine widened his thighs and kept on rolling.

You'd toss the pillow onto the floor and shift close enough to be between his feet. He'd wait until you got comfortable, resting your cheek onto his thigh. While you rested there, Fontaine's attention returned to the TV.

Wasn't long before he felt the drawstrings being undone and sighed when your soft hands found him. He wasn't all the way hard yet, Fontaine knew that wouldn't be a problem.

Your lips suckled the head of his dick and Fontaine groaned softly at the drag of your tongue. A satisfied noise came from you and you sank down to the root of his dick. After a moment of shifting, you resettled and closed your eyes.

You swallowed around him, head bobbing as you fell into your own little world. Above you, Fontaine finished rolling his blunt and fired up. Taking a long pull while one of his hands went into your locs, scratching your scalp and rubbing the silky new growth between his fingers.

He blew the smoke up into the ceiling and murmured a few filthy praises. Pleasure was hooked to the tip of your tongue, in the patterns that grew more and more languid the more you relaxed into serving him.

You weren't in any hurry to make him cum, this part was all for you and Fontaine was just happy to be give you what you want.

When you went still, eyes glassy and slow blinking, Fontaine reached down and stroked the back of your neck.

"Gettin' what you need, baby?" He asked. Your answering mhmm vibrated right to his spine, "Mmn. That's good, pretty. Take your time, then."

You purred again and he had to take a breath to re-center. He could still remember how hesitant you were the first time you suggested this.

"I-I don't know if you think it's weird, we don't have too, I-I just really like having, um, you in my mouth?"

Fontaine would have bust on the spot had it not been for the gravity of the situation. You've been keeping this tucked to you for a long time, despite the laughing as you told him as if to soften the blow of his denial.

He kept his cool and reassured you that you could do anything with his dick that you wanted. In the meantime, Fontaine got ready so he could stay ready for you.

Fontaine absolutely made sure to keep his shit neat and trimmed for you and he switched to a soap that didn't have a strong fragrance. He looked up a few tips online to make sure he was taking good care of you and you weren't pushing yourself.

You rarely touched yourself. You prefer to rock against your pillow and often kneaded one of Fontaine's ankles as you savored him. It was the service, the act itself that brought you gratification. Knowing that you were being good to him, for him.

If left to your own devices, you would be down there for more than an hour. The record being two hours and some change as you both were immersed in the new Batman movie that finally started streaming.

He wanted to beat that record.

Presently, Fontaine's head was filled with a pleasant buzz as he smoked his blunt down to nearly half before it was put aside. On the TV, Hakeem finally touched down in New York in all of it's grimy splendor and to Semmi's dismay.

He was brought back by the quiet, kittenish noises coming from you as you nuzzled your nose into his coarse curls. It never ceased to amaze him how easily you could swallow him down. His hand went from your hair to the front of your neck this time, feeling as much as he could of how full of him you were.

"Look at you feelin' so good f'me, pretty. Can I play witchu? Hm?"

You nodded, putting your hands flat onto your thighs and relaxing into him. Fontaine rocked, ebbing and flowing his dick deeper down your throat with his eyes focused on yours. Your lashes fluttered shut with a sweet whine when he groaned, thrusting deep and flexing his dick in the velvet of your throat.

"Precious girl, right where you need to be. Doin' what you do best, look at that..."

Fontaine pulled his dick from your slick lips, pressing his first two fingers down onto your tongue. You were getting messy, spit twinkling along your face and down your throat.

He took off his tank and wiped your face with it.

You leaned into his touch and looked up at him, all floaty and tender, settled in that headspace that you were still too shy to talk about. Once your face was dry again, he leaned down to press a brief kiss to your soft lips after tossing his tank to the side.

Fontaine spent a moment rubbing and petting your face still, relishing in the pleasure of having such a vision willing to kneel for him and accept his care.

It was special, how you liked to please him. Different from anything he's ever encountered and much more than what he deserved--but Fontaine will be sure to be what you needed.

He spotted your wriggling and grinned in gold, "Still messy, baby?"

"Mmhm."

"Show me where."

Leaning back, you showed him the good-sized damp spot that darkened your pillow. All Fontaine had to do was lean in and you obediently leaned back onto your elbows, legs parting for him to look his full.

Fontaine whistled low, stroking himself at the sight of your ruined panties. He hadn't even known you bothered to wear any, but seeing your sweetie covered in the soaked cotton heated him.

In due time.

Fontaine crooked his fingers and you straightened at once, attention on where he held his dick for you. You got close enough or him to rub his dick across your face. When you opened up, your alluring tongue pink and perfect, he finally gave in. How could he not?

"Here you go, baby, take what you want 'cause once you're done--Imma do the same."

He didn't miss your shiver as you answered his words with a hard suck, making him moan and reach for the rest of his blunt.

............... ............. ............

END!

(or is it??? dundun duuuuun!)

a/n: Thank you for reading! I couldn't get this out of my head, lol! Tell me what you think!

taglist: @megamindsecretlair@thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful@8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@mysterychick93 @eggnox @notapradagurl7 @sageispunk @mcondance @hunnishive

(let me know if you want to be tagged!! 💕💜🌟)

[dennisboobs]

my favourite thing about the always sunny podcast is listening to rcg all say something extremely neurodivergent and then agree amongst themselves and convince themselves its completely normal

[reel-fear]

one of those TFA Character polls but instead of being normal I ask 'which of these characters would roll the most fucked up loser idiot blunt you've ever seen and why is it objectively Shockwave-'

[dollfacefantasy]

MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡

pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)

a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.

Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.

It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture.

Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.

"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.

At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.

"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"

The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.

"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him. 

Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.

"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.

He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.

"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.

Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.

It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.

His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.

"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.

"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.

But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.

"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.

"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."

"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.

"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.

His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.

Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.

But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.

"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.

"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.

"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.

"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."

And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.

"You wanna bet?"

You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."

And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.

You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.

As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.

You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile. 

Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.

He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.

"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.

"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.

Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.

Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.

The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.

Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.

He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.

With each passing hour, his frustration grew.

Today, it reaches its zenith.

The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.

The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.

Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.

In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.

He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.

Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.

All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.

But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.

You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.

Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.

Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.

"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.

He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.

"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.

"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.

"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.

He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.

"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.

That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."

He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.

"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."

"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.

He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.

It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.

The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.

You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.

Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.

He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.

Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.

He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.

Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"

His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.

"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.

He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.

You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.

He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.

It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.

A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.

"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.

He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."

That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you. 

"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."

He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.

"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.

Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."

He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.

The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?

To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.

"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."

He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.

You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.

The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.

"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.

"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.

"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.

"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.

With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."

You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.

"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.

This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.

He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.

Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.

"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.

A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.

"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.

"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.

"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.

Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.

"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.

His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.

You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them. 

It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.

"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."

"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.

"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.

His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.

Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.

"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."

You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.

"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.

"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.

A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.

He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.

"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.

"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."

Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.

"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."

"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"

Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."

"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."

"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.

Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.

With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."

Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.

He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler.  Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.

A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.

When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.

His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.

You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.

He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.

His head turns to meet your loving gaze.

"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.

You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.

Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion.  He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.

All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.

Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him. 

"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.

Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.

"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.

Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going. 

"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."

"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.

"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.

"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."

"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.

"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."

Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.

"See you tomorrow, Scott."

"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.