#enough to think another woman could steal your boyfriend

[ryukisgod]

The Dolly version of Jolene is knowingly pathetic in the way she pleads with Jolene. The Beyoncé version is unknowingly pathetic in the way she threatens Jolene to stay away from her man, it’s giving Better Than Revenge.

Out of the two versions, the self awareness Dolly’s version has and the lack of self awareness Beyoncé’s has makes Dolly’s the clear winner.

[violetflowerswrites]

Sweetheart

Pairing: Logan Howlett X Female Mutant Reader

Era: X Men 1 / Trilogy

Summary: Logan and the resident therapist for the mutant school grow closer due to Logan’s resistance to her emotional manipulation powers. A friends with benefits situation naturally leads to falling for each other.

Word Count: 6.5k

Disclaimers: smoking, mentions of cheating, mentions of mental health issues (PTSD, trauma, self-harm/suicide), swearing, explicit sexual content. Consensual kissing, touching, oral sex, and p in v sex. Logan has a bit of a pain kink. 18+ mature only. Minors DNI.

A/N: I recently re-watched X1 because Logan has been on my mind since the Deadpool and Wolverine movie this past summer. And holy hell Hugh Jackman is SO cute and SO sexy and SO flirty in X1 that I couldn’t help but write this absolutely depraved, incredibly smutty (and soft!) fic. Seriously, it just kept getting longer and longer because of all the smut scenes. Enjoy!

…

The first thing you noticed was the hairy forearm laid heavily on your stomach. The heft of it acted as a natural weighted blanket, lulling you into that peaceful haze between wake and sleep.

But the laughter and squeals of kids playing in the freshly fallen snow outside your window invaded your mind with happy energy.

Excitement and adrenaline.

Winter morning sunshine and the holiday spirit.

Too bad you still hadn’t quite mastered how to dial the volume down of the outside world so you could sleep in.

With a contented sigh, you turned and gazed at the weather-tanned face of Logan, aka The Wolverine.

He was scruffy, rough around the edges, and altogether too much of a flirt to be boyfriend material.

But that was exactly how you liked your men.

Emotionally unavailable?

Check.

Morally ambiguous backstory?

Check.

Utterly ravishing in bed?

Check.

Logan and yourself definitely had a friends with benefits situation going on. Not that anyone would have bothered to say anything. Although you hoped Professor X wasn’t spending his free time dipping into the confines of your mind.

You see, you were the in-house therapist. You knew everyone’s secrets so they didn’t dare share yours. It was the best insurance policy in a school full of mutants you could have gotten.

Ever since you were young, you had always been “in-tune” with others’ emotions. Uncannily so.

Somehow you didn’t question this, but the obvious career of choice was to become a therapist.

It wasn’t until your college boyfriend cheated on you and you felt so overcome with rage that you told him to drive himself off a cliff.

And he did.

But not really.

He was so upset that you caught him in bed with another woman, that he stopped paying attention to the road on the way home and got into a little fender bender. A trip to the ER and a few bruises and a cracked rib later, it was more than enough to scare you into thinking that perhaps your influence was more than just a high EQ.

So you tested your powers. First, getting your roommate to stop stealing your food from the fridge. Then, helping your sister reconcile with your mom over Thanksgiving dinner. After that, soothing crying babies in seconds. Calming down PTSD patients in relapse episodes. Catching students in mental health crises before they did something they could never take back.

Before you knew it, you were making six figures post-grad at a fancy private clinic for celebrities in Hollywood whose biggest problems were having way too much money and convincing themselves that they had every disorder in the DSM-5.

Then, Professor X found you. And hired you on the spot to be the school counselor / therapist / shrink / lady-who-you-talk-to-lying-on- the-couch, at his school for mutants.

Sorry—at the “Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters” as it officially said on your business card.

…

The peaceful inhales and exhales of the human heating pad next to you put you in a nostalgic mood. So you burrowed down deeper into the covers and remembered handing that exact business card to the burliest man you’d ever seen in your little office.

That was the first thing you noticed when Logan walked in through the mahogany wooden door almost half a year ago now. How he filled up the door frame with not just height, but pure mass of muscle.

Jesus Christ, is this man on steroids? You remembered thinking.

The second thing you noticed was the hair. Thick and dark and messy, but pointed and shaped exactly like ears.

The third thing was his hands. Almost always in fists, as if he was ready to fight in a moment’s notice.

Which he probably was.

Ah. You had thought to yourself then.

This is why they call him The Wolverine.

“Good morning!” You greeted him warmly, trying to exude as much welcoming energy as you could.

It was met with a brick wall and a single grunt of acknowledgment.

Not fazed in the least, you gestured to a plush deep espresso-colored leather sofa that matched the soothing wood tones of the room.

“You’re not gonna ask me to lie down on that, are ya?” Logan gruffed out.

”Totally up to you.” You tried to disarm him with a smile, which he resolutely ignored. So, you handed him your business card and he begrudgingly took it, though he barely glanced at it and tossed it on top of the cushions.

Then, Logan pulled out a lighter and a cigarette from his leather jacket and took a long drag.

“Mind if I smoke?” Logan asked afterwards, with an arched brow.

Clearly he was trying to get a rise out of you, so you ignored the blatant lack of manners and simply shook your head and tried to make a joke.

“Not if you’re willing to share.” You half laughed, half coughed.

“I doubt a pretty lil thing like you smokes Malboro reds, much less a shrink.” Logan exhaled another thick column of smoke.

“You don’t know where my mouth has been.”

The words slipped out of your smiling lips before you could catch them, and you mentally slapped yourself for letting your intrusive thoughts come out.

Logan’s jaw dropped open, before he quickly shut it and kept a firm grip on his cigarette before it fell and burned a hole into Professor X’s very expensive carpet.

You felt a shift in the room. Logan’s energy was defensive, reluctant, and suspicious when he walked in.

Now, it was undoubtedly aroused.

To you.

Goddammit.

“I apologize. That wasn’t very professional of me. I’m going to be straight with you because I know that Professor X requested that you to come here. He specifically asked me to help you recover some memories, possibly work through some PTSD and figure out who…” you hesitated, searching for a polite way to phrase what you wanted to say next.

“Fucked me up with their experiments?” Logan laughed bitterly. “No need to sugar coat it, sweetheart.”

“Ahem. Yes. But now I’ve clearly given you mixed signals—“

“Mixed signals?” Logan grinned impishly. “I’m just picking up what you’re putting out.” He leaned back into the sofa.

“Well, that’s not exactly it. You see, I have the ability to read emotions.” You explained, “and influence the emotions of others.”

“Really?” Logan looked intrigued, but not quite convinced. “Tell me what I’m feeling right now.”

”You came in unwilling and totally against seeing a therapist.” You took a breath. “And now you’re curious, and a little attracted to me right now.”

“Not just a little, Doc.” He took another drag of cigarette.

“I’m sure you tell that to all the girls.” You waved away his comment, trying to not let him make you blush.

“Nah.” Logan exhaled. “Tell me I’m lying.”

“Well, I can’t do that. But I can change how you feel.” You offered.

“Try me.” He sat up in his seat, leaning forward in a challenge. “Make me not feel attracted to you.”

You furrowed your brow in concentration. Emotions were a finicky thing to manipulate, but your powers helped you “see” the feeling, almost like an aura or energy around the person.

Logan’s right now was pulsing, wafting off his body towards you, as his locked eyes with yours.

So you tried, pushing it back. Changing its shape, its color.

Its taste in your mouth.

But it stayed the same.

Sweet, sultry, and utterly addicting.

“What the hell?” You muttered. Your professionalism fell away as you were caught by surprise yet again by this man.

“What?” Logan murmured.

“It’s not…I can’t…” you trailed off, perplexed.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Logan teased, “powers don’t work on me?”

“Holy shit.” You whispered to yourself. “Holy shit.” You emphasized the expletive in shock.

Logan’s face fell when he realized you weren’t messing with him. Your powers actually didn’t work on him.

“Stay right there. Don’t you dare leave!” You thrusted a finger in his face and practically ran out the door, your eyes shining in excitement.

And you left a very confused Wolverine in his seat.

It turned out, The Wolverine had very strong resistance to psychic-type powers. Your powers were much weaker than Professor X, or even Dr. Jean Grey’s, so it was easy for him to subconsciously block them off. When you were first hired, you worked with Professor X and Jean a lot, trying to improve your manipulation abilities, but they could always tell when you were trying to change their emotions. Others like…say…Cyclops for example? Not so much.

You chuckled aloud at the juvenile pranks you pulled with Jean, like making Cyclops feel so confident he sober-karaoked on a night out, and you and Jean recorded his performance, clutching your sides with laughter.

He was actually an excellent singer, but he never let the two of you hear another note again. After all, your powers changed emotions, but not memories.

…

Logan shifted on the mattress, feeling the vibrations of your quiet laughter, and he let out a sleepy groan. You held your breath until he settled back into stillness, not meaning to wake him just yet.

Your mind wandered again to another memory.

“You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles, sweetheart.” A rough voice interrupted your concentration and smoothed your forehead with an equally rough thumb.

“Stop calling me sweetheart, it’s distracting!” You playfully shoved Logan in the shoulder and he didn’t budge an inch. The man was built like a tank and had absolutely no qualms attacking you.

With his constant, less-than-subtle flirting that is.

“How’s this for distracting?” Logan grabbed your waist and plopped you right in his lap. Your tight black skirt rode up your thighs in a decidedly unprofessional manner. Logan’s eyes immediately flickered down to your exposed skin, before he brought your hands up to the sides of head.

“Jesus Christ Logan, I’m trying to get better at this.” You huffed out exasperatedly, but you could feel Logan’s emotions charging up, along with your own.

Attraction.

Magnetic, sensual, delicious attraction to each other.

It didn’t take mutant powers to see that the two of you had chemistry. The tension had been building for months since that first day Logan stepped into your office. Now, it was another matter entirely to test if you had sexual chemistry. Which Logan always seemed to push the boundaries on.

Because now, here you were, sitting on the lap of a man who you were supposed to be helping, training with, and trying to practice your powers on.

And your attention was wholly on how thick and hard and firm his rolling thigh muscles felt under the pliant flesh of your ass. You subconsciously sank down further into his lap and Logan closed his eyes in a slow couple of blinks.

“Careful there, sweetheart.” Logan’s voice came out with more gravel than he intended.

“Oh, are we feeling a little distracted?” You whispered in a smirk, your hands practically grasping the thick aura of attraction between the two of you.

The strength of Logan’s emotion was quite literally making you feel drunk with arousal. You could tell Logan noticed the increase in the thrumming of your heartbeat and the speed of your hot breath so close to his face.

“What am I feeling right now?” Logan searched your eyes, his tone filled with barely masked self-control, desire, expectation.

“Tell me.”

You sucked in a shaky breath. “You wanna fuck me.”

“You’re damn right I do.”

Logan’s strong hands tangled in the hair at the back of your head as his lips, teeth, and tongue clashed messily with yours. He didn’t hold back anything, and it felt like he was devouring you whole. Your hands clawed at his shoulders, pushing the leather jacket off and you dug your fingernails into the thick muscle of his biceps.

Logan released your mouth with a growl, and he wasted no time nipping, sucking, and licking all over your neck and collarbone.

Meanwhile, you were transfixed by how the bright pink lines of your scratches were healing on his tanned skin. Curiosity got the better of you and you tried scratching him again, harder this time.

“You trying to hurt me, sweetheart?” Logan grumbled hotly against your ear.

“Mmm maybe?” You giggled, sighing into his lips that were pressing kisses against the side of your face.

“Good.” Logan kissed down your throat, ripping apart the buttons of your work blouse as he went. “I like a bit of pain when I’m fucking.”

You peeled off the top and your lacy black bra, exposing your bare breasts to Logan and he promptly buried his face in your flesh, clearly enjoying himself with your body. Unseemingly moans continuously poured out of both of you and your lust-riddled brain somehow remembered that it was the middle of the workday and you were in your third floor office that anyone could walk by.

“Logan, hold on—I need to…” You gasped out in stuttered breaths.

“Mmph” he grunted back, his teeth having found your perky nipples and he was clearly too focused on that to hear a thing you said.

So you grabbed a thick tuft of his hair and yanked his head back, to which the man actually snarled at being interrupted.

Unafraid, you laughed with delight and kissed him deeply. He tasted of cigarettes and salt and a delicious musk that solely belonged to him.

“I need to close the curtains and lock the door, Logan.” You reprimanded.

Resigned, Logan spread his arms to the back of the couch as he watched you secure the room. Even with your back turned, you could feel that his gaze never wavered from you. The lust poured off of him in waves that pulsed with every breath he took.

It was a deep red, thick like a fog, and it filled your nostrils, your head, your senses entirely. You’ve never felt your powers be so entirely overwhelmed by a single person before.

But Logan was not just anyone.

“I can feel so much from you.” Your voice dropped down into a strained whisper as you stepped back towards him, in between his man-spread legs. You reached a hand behind you to unzip your skirt, and Logan licked his lips once he saw the little black thong you had on underneath. He quickly undid his belt buckle and threw it to the side with a clatter. You slid your hands up his chest slowly, inhaling his scent as you kissed the side of his neck, finding a single vein throbbing with his increased heartbeat.

His white tank fell in a heap on the floor. A second later, dark blue jeans followed suit. Finally, you used your free hand to yank his boxers down and he was completely bare before you at last.

“What do you feel?” Logan could not stop staring at you, at your body, and following every motion of your hands.

You straddled his lap, a knee on either side of his thick thighs. Logan released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when you sat your bare bottom on his lap once again.

Instead of replying, you whispered into his mouth, “Cut off my thong.”

Thrill licked up your spine as you watched a single blade release from his right hand, and Logan oh-so-carefully sliced the string of your panties along your hips. Silently, you both watched as it slid off your heated skin.

You rewarded him with another kiss, running your tongue along the inside of his mouth. He nudged his nose into your cheek, desperate for more.

Meanwhile, you reached down between your bodies and found his painfully erect member. Your lips swallowed the needy growl that escaped the back of Logan’s throat. It made a slow smile spread on your face.

This man wanted you as badly as you wanted him. And neither of you could wait a second longer to devour each other like animals.

“I feel your desire.” You finally answered his question, just as you pulled his thick cock towards your ready core, and you sank down in a single motion.

You both released the most guttural groan at the same time. Logan was a huge man and he had a cock to match. The head pushed against your cervix and you felt positively stretched out trying to accommodate his girth.

Logan filled his hands with the supple flesh of your hips, pulling you up only for you to slide back down, your slickness coating him well.

You braced yourself on his shoulders, raising yourself onto your knees until he was nearly slipping out of you. You glanced down between your two bodies, getting a glimpse of his glorious cock.

“Stop teasing.” Logan panted into your chest, his own already shining with sweat.

You smirked and lowered yourself again, slowing down even more.

Tantalizing The Wolverine with the hot suck of your pussy.

Pressing your soft breasts into the mass of hair on his chest.

Your mouth unrelentingly kissed his scruffy face and wet lips.

“Sweetheart.” Logan’s nickname for you was strained out through clenched teeth.

Laced with warning.

You paid no heed, continuing your teasing movements until, with a roar of impatience, Logan sunk his fingers into the soft fat of your ass and thrusted upwards as hard as he could.

You released his lips with a yelp of surprise and he set a brutal pace. Logan’s length drilled into your hot core, stretching you, spearing you far deeper than you could have ever expected.

“O-oh my god! Logan! S-slow down!” You implored, but Logan had other plans for how he was going to wreck you.

Every thrust was met with a hard slap of skin on skin, and the most you could do was simply dig your nails into his biceps, this time, drawing blood with how hard you were holding on to him.

The pain however, simply goaded him to keep railing you like a rag doll. His cock buried itself to the hilt only to pull out and push back in again, over and over, as if it could never be satisfied.

You had a feeling that Logan had stamina for hours. The Wolverine could just keep going until both of you lost the ability to move. As much as that sounded incredible, the thin trails of blood running down his skin forced you to reconsider how much sex the two of you could handle. At least for the moment.

“Logan, s-seriously. You’re bleeding.” You finally managed to say.

“It’ll heal.” Logan ground out. But, he did slow down until you sat back in his lap, running your fingers along the cuts your fingernails had caused. He wasn’t wrong; each small wound was closing up at a remarkable speed.

“I don’t want to hurt you each time we have sex, Logan.” Even if he liked pain, you didn’t feel comfortable inflicting injury on this beautiful man. Or getting too rough too fast.

“You could never hurt me, sweetheart.” Logan assured you, holding you more gently now, his breath coming in heavy pants. But, he could see the worry on your face, so he kissed the sweaty furrow of your brow.

“Okay. We’ll take it slow. I won’t be so rough, unless you say so.” He murmured against your skin. The both of you were drenched in sweat as if you had run a marathon.

You carefully untangled yourself from Logan’s body and stood up on wobbly legs. You were already feeling a dull ache of soreness between your thighs.

“Hold on-you said ‘each time we have sex’ as in…” Logan questioned.

“Oh we’re not done. You haven’t even made me cum yet.” You grinned at him, walking over to your desk.

You sensually bent over, presenting your slick-shiny slit to Logan.

“I doubt you could stay away from me after you’ve had a taste.” You teased him, the desperation for this man to give you an orgasm making the dirty talk stream out of your lips. Your outside persona as the put-together empath long gone in favor of the filter-less, horny, and needy slut you really were.

Logan immediately crossed over to you in a few strides, holding the weight of his still-erect cock over your waiting entrance.

As he pushed into you, one hand holding you down onto your desk, he corrected your statement.

“You’re wrong, sweetheart.” Logan explained. “I couldn’t stay away from you before you let me fuck this sweet pussy.”

His deliberate slowness was absolute torture on your body. He filled you up in a way no man, no mutant had ever done before.

“Oh! Right there, Logan!” You moaned out, barely hearing what he said. His cock now pushed against that delicious spongy center in your cunt. He then pulled out, admiring the way your juices coated every thick vein on his member.

He entered you again, just as slowly, making sure both of you felt every inch of his invasion. Your hands reached over to the other side of the desk, your white knuckled grip clutching the edge. You needed to hold on to something, anything to ground yourself or you were going to lose it with how Logan was tormenting you with his cock.

“P-please, keep going!” The desperation in your voice turned whatever you said into a whine.

A few thrusts later, and you could feel that familiar tightening in your core. You were getting so close, and you were sure that the helpless moans that kept coming out of your mouth were an obvious indication to Logan that you were about to cum.

“I knew I wanted to make you scream my name with my cock the very first day we met.” Logan finally concluded, his voice hot in your ear as he pressed his chest onto your back. At the same time he gave this sinful confession, he reached a hand down to find your swollen clit and touched you in just the right way, as if he had done it a million times before.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you came immediately.

”Oh—!”

In the haze of the most explosive pleasure you’ve ever felt, you registered three sensations at the same time.

First, wet jets of his expend painted the hot skin of your back.

Second, a rough hand clapped over your mouth, muffling the orgasmic scream of The Wolverine’s name that was ripping through your lungs.

Third, fireworks. You’ve never seen a man cum so hard that your powers registered an orgasm as fireworks. It was usually a quick flash of light like an old-school camera, but Logan came so hard that his pleasure was literally illuminating your senses like it was the 4th of July.

It was beautiful to witness.

And even more satisfying to participate in.

Breathless, speechless, and completely and thoroughly fucked, you turned around and simply grinned at the sexiest, horniest, hottest man you’ve ever had sex with.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to set up regular “Friday Fucknights” after that.

…

You slowly unfurled your clenched fists from the comforter that you didn’t know you were squeezing tight.

Goddammit.

All the memories of the first time you and Logan had sex made you decidedly horny. Even after Logan had given you a good rough fucking the night before.

Flashes of last night whipped through your brain.

Your face buried in the mattress, your moans disappearing into the fabric.

The cold breeze on your bare ass, raised up to meet Logan’s face.

The scruff of his beard rubbing against your skin.

His nose inhaling your sinful scent.

His lips and tongue eating you out for dessert after he surprised you with a date to a local steakhouse.

It was one of the few dates Logan spontaneously took you out on and it would always start the same way:

“Wanna go for a ride?” He’d ask you.

“Sure.” You’d reply.

And you’d end up at some isolated restaurant with Logan inhaling a monstrous slab of meat as you complained about all the teenage drama you were trying to counsel students through.

A few drinks and naughty kisses in the back corner booth later, the night always ended in your usual sex.

And you know you were clear to him that you just wanted the sex, no strings attached. You told him from the get-go that dating wasn’t really your thing. Due to the nature of your powers, you could never be sure if your partners actually loved you or if it was your love for them influencing how they felt about you. After all, if your powers influenced most mutants, then regular humans were even more susceptible.

But sex with Logan was perfect. Even those random dates were guilt-free and stress-free, because you could finally just be with someone who you didn’t have to worry about any of that with.

At the same time, Logan was intense. It was probably a good idea that you basically saw each other once a week for sex and stayed the hell out of his way the rest of the time.

Honestly? You could only handle The Wolverine in doses.

Between his traumatic hidden memories that emerged in daily nightmares…

And his overwhelming sexual desire for you…

The man was going to be the death of you.

…

A pained sound, almost like a whimper came from Logan. You could see a few beads of sweat break out on his forehead, and you quickly grabbed one of his clenched fists. Your hands gently rubbed over the knuckles where his blades lay hidden beneath a thin layer of skin. In a moment, Logan’s face relaxed and his eyes began to flutter open.

You sighed in relief.

Unfortunately, even though you could only handle Logan once a week, it was clear that Logan wanted you much more than that.

After that first month of Friday Fucknights, Logan had quickly figured out that spending the night with you acted as a natural sleep drug. He suspected it was your powers, or maybe it was just you.

Because somehow, when you were in his bed, he could finally wind down and slumber nightmare free. You noticed it too - his aura turned to a soft, amber yellow when he was sleeping next to you. The emotion of peace and contentment.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Logan murmured, his fingers now interlaced with yours. He brought your entwined hands up to his lips so he could press his lips to it.

Goddammit. There it was again.

The unmistakable feeling of love - pink, swirling wisps floating gently in the air. The smell of those quintessential roses and a deep warm fuzziness in your belly that felt like home.

Logan reeked of it.

…

You first noticed it at the date last night. You were complaining about some adolescent love triangle that Bobby and Rogue and Kitty had tangled themselves up in and Logan was teasing you about it. He was nursing a beer, chuckling as he laughed both at you and with you.

And there was a pause right after the laughter faded where you recognized the emotion he was feeling. You clocked it as soon as he took a sip of his bottle and looked right into your eyes.

Something that you hadn’t felt before from him.

Love.

You immediately deflected by saying something sexual to distract him from thinking too hard about what he felt and his aura quickly switched to that familiar red-hot lust.

That’s all you wanted from him.

That’s all you needed from him.

Right?

From there it was an illegally-fast motorcycle ride back to the mansion for some rough fucking.

…

Trying to hide your unease about his feelings, you hoped he didn’t notice the elongated pause before your reply this morning. Your thoughts were racing about the implications of The Wolverine falling in love with you.

You shouldn’t.

You couldn’t.

Fuck, you needed to distract him.

And yourself.

“Good morning, Logan” you finally snapped out of it and smiled at him. “You feeling alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He opened your palm up and kissed it again, this time, giving your skin a little teasing lick.

“You were tossing in your sleep a little.” You explained, “but I’m about to make you feel all better.” Your voice dropped flirtatious and low.

“Is that right, sweetheart?” Logan’s lifted a brow as you burrowed under the blanket, feeling the waves of heat emanating off of him.

You quickly shimmied down until your face was right in front of his thick cock. After all the sex last night, Logan hadn’t bothered to put on clothes again before he fell asleep.

Neither had you.

Your tongue found his shaft first, while your hands gently caressed his balls. They felt heavy and warm in your palm as you licked up and down his cock.

Above you, Logan immediately twitched and grunted at your touch.

“Mmph - that’s—!” Logan could barely say.

“More?” You teased from under the covers.

“Y-yeah. Please, sweetheart. Give me more.” He groaned, one hand tangling itself to your hair. He gave you a slight, sharp tug that made your arousal flare up.

You took a deep breath before closing your mouth onto the head of his cock, and sucking hard and holding him hostage in return.

“Fuck!” Logan swore, blood rushing down to his member. You could feel him growing in girth, opening your jaw wider, your tongue sliding under him. You refused to let him go, hollowing out your cheeks, drawing him deeper until you had to surface for air.

“Yummy.” You grinned devilishly, swiping away the trail of saliva down your chin.

“My messy girl.” Logan pulled your chin closer until his lips pressed against your mouth. You threw the covers off of the both of you, and climbed on top of him.

“Mmm.” You moaned, his tongue was dancing with yours and it was driving you crazy. “As much as I love kissing you Logan, I think I’d rather ride you today.”

“Be my fucking guest.” Logan smiled against your mouth before releasing your face with a filthy wet smooch.

You admired the ripple of his abs as he leaned against the pillows, his huge arms thrown behind his head. The sight made you lick his taste off your lips, and liquid heat rushed to your core.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about all morning?”

You knelt beside him, your knees squeezing into his hips as you reached below you. God, he was huge. A fact you admired every time you took his substantial girth into your hand.

“What, sweetheart?” Logan gazed at you with a bemused expression on his face.

“The first time we had sex.” You continued. The head was breaching the tight ring of your pussy now.

“That was a great day.” Logan’s chest rose as he sucked in a breath, holding it as he watched you sink down until your bottom was flush to his strong thighs.

“That was a fucking incredible day.” You moaned at the feeling of being so full, so full of him. “And I was sitting pretty in your lap, just like I am right now.”

“Y-you spoil me, sweetheart.” Logan released his breath in a whoosh, his words starting to stutter just like his hips.

“Ah ah ah.” You pulled his hands away from your ass and up to your breasts. ”Don’t rush me.”

Logan responded with a frustrated groan, even as he kneaded your soft flesh and pinched your nipples.

“Fuck that’s good.” You praised him and rewarded him with a roll of your hips. You let his cock slide out only to suck it back in with your next movement.

“I want to feel you, Logan.” You leaned down to press a kiss onto his open mouth. “All of you.”

Without waiting any longer, you bounced your ass on top of his cock, suddenly riding him like your life depended on it.

Logan wrapped his arms around your back as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Expletives flying and a whole host of unseemly sounds spilled out of the both of you.

But nothing compared to the sweet sound of his cock and balls slapping against the soft cheeks of your bottom.

And the messy wet squelch of juices that were streaming out of your pussy and coating his length.

“S-sweetheart! I c-can’t!” Logan’s whine almost made you laugh. Your pussy was so good that it made The Wolverine beg to cum. What a fucking power trip.

“Cum for me Logan!” You encouraged him, your pussy was throbbing with need. Something animalistic was unlocking inside of you and you just had to feel his release inside of your cunt.

After all, you did say you wanted to feel all of him.

And that included his hot, delicious seed.

“Let me—” Logan started to pull you off of him before you grabbed his hands and ground down onto him.

“N-no!” You panted out, still bouncing on him hard. “Cum inside.”

Logan’s eyes widened. With a roar, he sat up and locked his arms around you, his hips jutting up into you once, twice, three times.

And you felt his cock release inside of you at last.

“Oh my god!” You bit into his shoulder, seeing fireworks again, not just for Logan, but for both of you. The room was heavy with the smell of sex and lust and sharp bursts of light that danced across your vision. You could vaguely feel yourself falling back down onto the bed with him, your cheek pressed into his hairy chest.

Your mind was somewhere in space, simply overwhelmed with sensation. This man, this mutant, this Wolverine, gave you the most explosive orgasms every time he fucked you.

Then, as if the sky had cleared after a storm, you saw the fireworks fizzle out. And creeping in from the corner of your eye, you saw it again. That pesky pink fog and the smell of roses.

Love.

…

“Goddamit Logan” you muttered out, lifting your head up to look at the man before you, and your heart immediately softened. His eyes were closed, chest falling and rising rapidly as he recovered. Seeing Logan in that post-sex glow always felt special to you.

He was beautiful.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Logan’s eyes shot open on high alert and he stiffened underneath you, picking up the annoyance in your tone.

You blew out a breath and pushed yourself up on his chest, staring at him before deciding what to say.

What to do.

What to feel.

Logan’s eyes darted across your face, searching for an answer as you battled internally. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks and your heart started to beat in double time.

Fuck it if he was falling for you.

You were addicted to this man.

You were not about to let him go.

“I can feel you, Logan.” You confessed, “I felt it last night, and just when you woke up, and right now.”

“What is it?” Confusion, and a hint of trepidation flashed across his face.

“Love.”

Logan’s brows shot up and he stared into your soul with wide, chocolate-brown eyes. But you stayed silent, waiting for him to deny it, confirm it, something.

With a rustle of sheets, Logan carefully sat up, and you with him. Then, he deliberately placed two warm, calloused palms on both sides of your hot cheeks.

And he kissed you gently.

So fucking gently.

Somehow, that simple kiss felt way more intimate than any of the sex the two of you had ever done.

“Would it be so bad if I loved you?” Logan asked in a low murmur against your lips.

In that instant, your mind recalled everything you loved about Logan.

His gentleness with the students, especially the ones that had powers that were more dangerous or harder to hide. He understood what it felt like to be an outsider. To be feared when you just wanted to belong.

His “I don’t give a fuck” energy when he did, in fact, give a lot of fucks about those he cared about. It showed up in the way he asked about how your week was, and patiently listened to all your complaints before taking you to bed. The way he noticed when you were stressed, or tired, or just needed the comfort of not being alone. The way he put your emotions first before his own.

His ridiculous reputation as the resident flirt, when he was actually so loyal to you. He might have made moves on Jean or Storm or every eligible and un-eligible lady at the school, but you were the only one he called “sweetheart.” You were the only one who saw what Logan looked like when he was afraid, when he was vulnerable. When he was in love.

And of course, his deep respect for Professor X, who he was always just a little bit more well-mannered for. He had changed so much since coming to the school. You could see it In the way he fought on X-missions even though he was so used to fighting for himself, by himself. Now, he was a soldier. A protector.

“No,” you slowly replied. You paused, and covered his hands with your own. ”It would be wonderful.”

Your ears were blessed with the most unbridled, joyful laugh from Logan as he smothered you with his 200 pound body and rained a cascade of kisses all over your skin.

Every press of his lips against your own felt like an I love you over and over again.

“Logan!” You couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Stop!”

“I can’t,” Logan lifted your leg up to his shoulder and drove into your pussy. You were so overwhelmed with his emotion that you hadn’t even seen his cock engorge itself again.

“L-Logan!” You cried out his name again, this time in pleasure.

“I can’t help myself, sweetheart.” Logan kissed you soundly. “Not when I love you this much.”

You held his face, caressing his rough beard and staring into his eyes, shiny with emotion that mirrored your own.

“I love you, too.”

The rest of the morning, laughter and kisses and smiles flooded the room, basking the two of you in the soft, pink glow of the best emotion there is.

Love.

[johnbrand]

Being Proactive

“Hey princess, how about you go grab me a beer while we wait for everyone else to arrive.”

“Sure thing, Mario!” 

I ran inside as fast as I could, trying my best to hold back the smile that was threatening to escape. I could not believe how easily my plan was working. Ever since I caught that twisted, hungry bottom flirting with my boyfriend, I knew I had to take action. It was just fascinating how simple it all had been. 

My boyfriend was a solid-but-sensitive type, big and muscular but soft, which sometimes worked against him. He had not even noticed when Mario had batted his pretty eyelashes for him, or when the bottom pouted with a sickly sweet: “We should hang out more, I’m sure I’d make it worth your time.” But I had known the signs however, and I planned to be proactive. A simple search on the web led me to a solution I could only hope would do the trick.

It was some form of an incantation, performing rites onto an article of clothing with the necessary ingredients. Some rose-embedded candles, feathers of a raven, off-brand vinegar...all stuff I could easily find in the city. And once brought together, the ingredients were meant to create a migration ritual, transferring the essence of one person through an article of clothing onto another being. My plan was for Mario to be at the receiving end, absorbing the identity of my choosing.

And luckily for me, there was no better offering than my arrogant, womanizing older brother. Eric was a decent enough sibling growing up, although we had rarely spoken since my coming out. But overall, he was a different man on the streets. If he was not tackling another dude on the field, then Eric was surely tackling another chick into bed. Therefore, if I could imbed this same heterosexual passion into Mario, I knew I would never have to deal with him skankly attempting to steal my boyfriend every again. 

The set-up had been simple: a pool party with everyone supposedly invited. Of course, I had only reached out to Mario, and had neglected to inform him of the "pool" portion of the party. He was so thankful when I offered him my "spare" pair of speedos, taking the pink-patterned briefs from me without a second thought. He could have never known they had been soaking the entire night before in a brew with my older brother’s own sweat-stained boxers.

At first, the changes had not been evident, but eventually I began to witness the consequences of my actions. Mario had gradually grown taller, every minute having added an extra half-inch to his torso or legs. With this came the expansion of his muscles, defining the bottom’s once-lean figure with juicier, more defined features. 

Now approaching with the beer he had requested, I was able to take in even more changes that had happened while I had been inside. Hair had begun sprouting from Mario’s previously-shaven legs, and his queer mullet had tightened into a douchey French crop. I could even sense his attitude had shifted; Mario was no longer displaying his former star feature (his perky bottom), but instead showcasing his new pride (his literal, much larger pride).

“Good girl,” Mario taunted, chugging the whole can in one go. The teasing nicknames were new too. I should have been insulted, but I was too busy relishing in my success. What other attributes from my older brother would Mario soon absorb?

BUUUUUUUUURRRPP! “So how long until they get here anyway?” Mario groaned, tossing the crushed can aside. 

“Shouldn’t be much longer,” I replied without removing my eyes from him, hoping to witness another change.

Mario noticed my directed attention, assuming it was regarding the swimwear. “This wasn't all some plan to get me into a faggy speedo, was it? I'm beginning to think you wanted a real man like me all to yourself."

The accusation caused me to break, stunned at the rude remark. Mario smirked smugly. “What, something wrong, girly?”

“Yeah, what you're saying is insul-”

“Learn your place and go grab me another beer,” Mario ordered. “You don’t want me to have to get up, do you?”

Surprised and feeling a sudden loss of control, I turned away and made my way back to the kitchen. For the first time I began considering how Mario's conversion may have created an even worse monster than I could have imagined. My once proactive solution no longer appeared to be such.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, established relationship, PIV sex, unprotected sex, semi- public sex, mirror sex Summary: Feeling needy at a party Eddie's taken you to in order to deal to the attendees, you steal him away and give him a different kind of show by making out with a woman to excite him. The woman? yourself. WC:1.8K

A/N: Was I drunk when I came up with this? yup. Was I drunk when I sat down and wrote it? yupx2. Am I drunk right now? honey, what do you think? anyway, enjoy!

"Show me"

He stares you down in that way that makes the guest bathroom feel much smaller than it actually was, like there might not even be enough air for the both of you to occupy it at the same time with the way he keeps stealing your breath.

You could still hear the music echo as it continued to blare outside, the beer you'd downed to give yourself the courage to whisper into Eddie's ear in the first place now sloshing around inside your belly, adding to the intensity of having his eyes roving all over you.

It all began an hour into Todd Henley's party, fed up of all the drunken bodies swaying around as they bumped right into you without apology before they passed by on unsteady legs.

But what irked you the most was that half the crowd had been spending more time with your boyfriend than you were able to all night, all of them handing him crumpled dollars in exchange for little baggies and whatever else he could fit in his pockets to keep the partygoers' spirits high.

You couldn't take it for very much longer though. Unable to help yourself, you sprang into action just before Todd himself could attempt to approach Eddie, cutting in front of the birthday boy, entirely uncaring of the scowl that twisted Todd's lips because Eddie was all you could think about. And you let the latter know as much.

"I need you" you'd whined as you'd wrapped yourself around Eddie's arm when you pull him towards a lonelier corner of the room, all sweet and clingy and then a little more quietly; "watching you made me so wet".

As you'd expected, he's quick to grin at you when he takes your hand. Gently he led you through the crowd, even turning down a few potential customers like Todd who'd tried to approach Eddie with cash in hand, a quick but firm "not now" grunted at them over the music.

It made your hopes rise, growing giddy, thinking he'd take you back to his van to fool around, away from the rest of the party only to end up pouting when he'd pulls you into a vacant guest bathroom instead.

"Go on. Show me", he'd repeated again, still soft and patient with you, standing tall over you as you grow so pliant under his stare, giving in easily as you reach under your dress to pull your panties down to your mid thighs.

He observes closely as you part your legs as much as your underwear will allow, showing off the collection of slick sitting warm and wet on the thin red cotton.

Eddie whistles low as he sees it. "Looks serious", he mused, pressing his index finger into the middle of your panties. He pulls his damp finger back, rubbing it against his thumb and pulling them apart to watch a clear web of your essence develop between them.

Hoping you've pleased him enough you try again.

"Can we, Teddie? Please?", you make sure to dial up the sweetness, all saccharine and cute as your plead.

But the thing is Eddie sometimes liked to have fun with you at times likes these, anything to work up his girl in good jest as another toothy grin develop on his face. "Sorry. Still got some dealing to do, angel face", he explains, looking the opposite of apologetic about it until he sees your face crumble and fall.

"Hey hey, I'm only teasing", he's quick to drop the suave, unwavering persona he treats his customers with for his usual rough around the edges kind of natural warmth, kissing your wobbling bottom lip hard for good measure. "You know I'd never turn you down", he makes sure to add, taking your hand and pressing it over his clothed erection to show you that he's telling the truth, feeling relieved when your lips spread into a smile.

"Tell you what. Since we're already in here why don't we just make use of it?", he offers with a cheesy grin and raising his brows in a way that comes off more cartoonish than it does suggestive but it makes you happy nonetheless. He chuckles at the way your whole face lights up at the suggestion because honestly, you couldn't wait any longer, reaching behind Eddie to lock the door shut.

~

You warmed up to getting led in here by Eddie even more when you noticed how the room smelled pleasantly of white jasmine thanks to a little sachet of air freshener hung up on the door handle. The living room where most of the party had congregated including yourself for that one hour was all booze and smoke and sweaty bodies barely guised by cheep perfume and cologne, and for that reason you were glad to be away from it all and not sifting through the thick crowd of people to get to the van.

But mostly, you liked getting handsy in Todd's guest bathroom because unlike Eddie's van, this had a mirror.

When you bend over the sink, you do so quickly and willingly, making Eddie huff out a small laugh through his nose. Carefully he gathers as much of your hair as he can in one hand, pulling on it to encourage you to keep your eyes on each other's reflections in front of you.

It's a filthy sight when you're made to look at yourself. Your tits are spilling out over the top of your dress, made so by when Eddie carefully pulled at it enough to free them, pinching, pulling and nipping at them before he settled you in this new position facing away from him.

With your panties drawn down a few inches above your knees, you could feel Eddie pull your dress up over your ass, eagerly pressing his turgid cock between your thighs once he's pried it out his boxers, the fat tip and length of his cock gliding between your folds and against your puffy clit perfectly.

Watching closely in the mirror, you memorize the little knit between his brows as he does it, a thrill coursing through you as his cheeks then blend from a light pink to a deep mauve while he humps between your thighs.

"Y' ready for me?" he huffs, his lips parted as he looks to your reflection for an answer.

"I'm ready. Please, Teddie. Been waiting all night", you whine back to him over your shoulder, catching the way the corner of his mouth picks up into a smirk.

He's inside you not long after that, stretching you with his thickness which even after all this time, still makes you hiss through the initial sting. But you've never complained about it, always inclined to moan with a wave of pleasure especially now when his hips connect with your ass, bouncing against him while he has both of his hands set firmly just below your waist to keep you steady.

It's not gentle the way Eddie pummels into you but it is a steady and easy climb towards your release. It's because he knows exactly what it takes to make you cum, just minutes of him thrusting into that spot inside you that only he can reach until your belly's winding tight and your toes start to curl inside your shoes.

"Eds, I'm close", you squeak, more a warning than anything else when he pulls at your hair again. Your knees are quick to wobble when he makes you watch yourself getting ruined by him, noticing the runny mascara down your cheeks and your pretty lipstick smudged near the corner of your mouth, bare tits bouncing with every thrust.

"God, you look so good. Go on baby, give yourself a kiss", he tells you through ragged grunts, his free hand landing a few spanks on your ass for good measure.

You do as you're told, leaning closer to your reflection, your lower stomach pressing against the sink in a way that in this position, makes it feel so much more intense with his cock still inside you.

Lips just centimeters away from the glass, the idea of making out with yourself didn't strike you as all that arousing at first, only going along with it because it was something Eddie had wanted and that was reason enough for you to oblige.

You begin by pressing your lips against the cold mirror, chaste at first until you see the desperation swirling behind your hooded eyes. You looked so utterly fucked out, lips parted and your tongue lolling out with a thin rivulet of drool dripping down to your chin. You liked it more than you could understand, especially with Eddie right behind you and in view too.

Finding yourself getting worked up the longer you keep at it, the fire burning inside you only burns bigger and brighter as you see Eddie's reflection while he keeps pumping into you, his bangs stuck to his forehead with a light sweat, his lips pink and full from his teeth biting down on it and the look he gives you when you eyes connect through the mirror.

"Y'like it don't you, doll?", he asks the obvious question just to see you squirm under him, his lips pulled back into a pleased smile as you muster up the strength to nod.

Your breath fogs up the mirror as you continue to pant through Eddie's thrusts, giving him a show as traces of your red lipstick are left behind from your kisses, growing more aroused at the sight of yourself taking Eddie's cock like this.

It's sloppy and oh so perfectly dirty. Eddie watches in amazement as you tongue at your own reflection, your swollen lips leaving traces of spit all over the mirror, uncaring if Todd or his family find the muddled mess of lipstick on their mirror by tomorrow.

"That's it. You see how pretty you look like this? can't help it can you? Good girl. Use your tongue a bit more for me, yeah? fucking perfect..."

It's different being fucked like this, half of you unsure of which reflection you ought to keep your eyes fixed on as you near your climax, deciding to switch from one to the other the closer you get.

Sighing and whimpering underneath Eddie, you mean to warn him just before you tipped over the edge but with your mouth so busy as you press one last kiss against the glass, Eddie can tell that you're cumming when you squeeze your walls around his cock sporadically, crying his name out with your cheek pressed against the once clean glass.

The sight of you all spent and the feeling of you clamping down on him triggers his own orgasm, creamy white spurts filling you up between your legs while he bites down on your shoulder, grunting so deeply by your ear as he thrusts through the final wave that overcomes him.

"You did so well, baby", he groans into your clammy skin during your mutual comedown, teeth grazing the place where he'd bitten down on you as you look up to smile at him lazily through the mirror. He admires you fondly through the mirror, one hand rubbing your back.

"Also", he pats his jacket pocket while he's still inside you. "Remind me to give Todd one on the house", he finishes and the both of you share a laugh, looking over the mess on the counter top and mirror as a result of your time together.

Yeah. Todd's definitely entitled to a freebie. That's for sure.

[akataiii]

Go ahead and try (A Hawks x reader)

“It'd be so easy, you know?”

Tearing my eyes from the ballroom floor and casting my gaze to the right, I'm met by the sight of a smug-looking Kiki; a short woman with curly, purple hair and a pair of white dove wings residing on her back. She is also known as one of Hawks' most trusted sidekicks.

I turn my body so I'm facing her fully, readjusting my grip on the glass of champagne in my hand. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, tilting my head at her and quirking a puzzled brow.

“I'm sorry?” I ask, voice portraying the confusion I was feeling.

Kiki huffs, bringing her own glass of champagne to her lips and taking a languid sip while shifting her attention to the opposite side of the room. I follow her gaze, finding what, or rather, who she is staring at.

Hawks' pretty, red wings are unmistakable; standing out in the crowd and demanding immediate attention, almost as if screaming, ‘Look at me!’ And I did look. I always looked at my boyfriend.

I looked at how he gave his best every day, striving to be an amazing hero and somehow managing to muster up enough positive energy to make up for my lack of daily optimism.

Me and Keigo were pretty much two opposite ends of a coin, and yet we somehow worked together perfectly, making up that coin in perfect harmony each and every day.

“What I meant was,” Kiki starts, drawing my focus back to her, where she's taking another sip of her champagne. “It would be easy for me to steal Hawks from you,” she finishes, turning to look at me with a smug smirk.

I blink at her, momentarily stunned. Well, that came out of nowhere, I think to myself, (e/c) eyes widened in surprise. It doesn't take long for me to get over the initial shock though, instead letting out an amused huff before folding my arms across my chest, careful not to spill my champagne. 

“Well then,” I say, letting my features fall into a relaxed and unbothered expression. “By all means, have at it. Try your best,” I prompt, trying my best to suppress my laughter at the astonished look Kiki sends my way. 

“Seriously? Just like that?” She questions, looking slightly disappointed at not receiving any kind of negative reaction from me. “You're just going to give him up?”

I shrug, bringing my glass of champagne to my lips and looking over at Keigo’s bright, red wings again. “I don't see how it's necessary for me to put up a fight,” I reply, a faint smile grazing my lips as I catch Keigo laughing at something Mirko said.

“You have no respect for your relationship,” is the last thing I hear Kiki say before her heels are clacking loudly against the tiled floor, and she's marching away from me.

Nope, I think to myself, feeling smug and self-assured at my own thoughts. I just have that much faith in my boyfriend.

—

I stretch my arms above my head, hastily bringing one hand back down to stifle the yawn that slips past my lips. The cement of the sidewalk feels hard under my feet as I walk back towards me and Keigo's apartment, returning from the day at my boring, mundane, civilian job. 

I don't regret my choice of not becoming a hero. The whole flashy, saving people lifestyle just never suited me, and I was perfectly alright with that. Even if my job was mundane and void of any flashiness, it never failed to fill me with a sense of joy. 

How could I ever hate the flower shop I worked at when it's where I met my lovely boyfriend? I still remember the day Keigo came in, fresh on the job, and picking up the flower order for the grand opening of his hero agency.

Even if our relationship was rocky at first, filled with countless bickering and endless antagonizing (all from my end, oopsie), we ended up together and in love anyway, and I could never be happier than when I was by his side.

Of course, life is never that simple, and neither are relationships, especially that of a pro-hero. Keigo was never allowed to let the public know about himself, always forced by the Hero Public Safety Commission to hide behind the Hawks exterior they curated for him.

A select few people did know about our relationship, though. Mostly the heroes Keigo worked alongside and the sidekicks at his agency.

Which is where Kiki comes in.

It's been a week since her random confession to me at the Hero Gala me and Keigo attended. It didn't bother me; instead, I was only curious to see if Kiki would actually carry through her plan of 'stealing Hawks from me.’

Thoughts of how I could possibly ask my boyfriend about it swirl around in my mind as I continue my trip home. My feet hit the pavement in a rhythmic pattern, lulling me into a state where I was only half paying attention to the world around me. Suddenly, the red feather around my neck gives a violent jerk to the right, almost knocking me off my balance.

I stumble on the cement below me, regaining my footing before glaring down at the feather in confusion and irritation. It had settled back down and was resting innocently against the skin of my collarbone, like it didn't just almost choke me half to death.

Knowing it had a mind of its own and was likely trying to show me something, I shift my gaze to the right, the direction in which the feather jerked in. Immediately, my eyes latch onto the two red wings on the opposite side of the road.

Keigo stands talking to Kiki, hands raised in surrender and seemingly waving away something she's saying.

What a pleasant surprise, I think to myself, moving to lean against the nearest lamp pole. My arms are folded comfortably across my chest as I watch whatever situation is currently playing out in front of me.

I watch as Kiki says something else to Keigo, her lips curled into a wide, mischievous grin as her finger lightly pokes his chest.

Kiki is Hawks' most trusted ally, always going with him on patrol and assisting him on missions. Anyone with functioning eyes could see that they were close, and the media even went into its usual conspiracy theories that the two might be dating.

Keigo, polite as always, denies the accusations every time, waving them away with his usual smile and saying nothing other than, ‘She’s a great sidekick. Nothing more.’

I was never the jealous type and never would be. Hawks may be some flirty, charming hero persona created by the HPSC to be shown to the public, but in private, Keigo was happy to just be. While he was still a flirty and charismatic person in general, when he got off the clock and came home, he was free to do whatever he wanted.

I smile to myself, thinking of all the nights the blonde came home and immediately attacked me with a flurry of chirps and kisses, letting his suppressed bird instincts free. I would always dissolve into a fit of giggles when he twittered and chirped in my ear, telling me how much he loves me and how much he missed me that day.

Point being, I had complete faith in my boyfriend and trusted our devotion to one another.

Back to the current time, the feather around my neck gives another jerk, this one much less violent, catching my attention and causing me to frown down at it in concern.

In theory, or well, confirmed by Keigo, the red feather around my neck was just an extension of his body and Quirk, meaning the feather reacted the same way the feathers on his back did. Which could only mean…

I lift my gaze to inspect the pair of heroes across the street. Kiki had made her way further into Keigo's personal space, now standing only inches away from him and running a hand along his chest while looking up at him from under half-lidded eyes. Even from where I stood, I could read the seduction in her actions, and it caused me to physically cringe. Is she aware of just how desperate she looks?

I feel the feather twitch again, and with my gaze focused on Keigo, I catch the way the feathers on his back twitch as well, a clear indication of his discomfort. 

As previously mentioned, I had complete faith in my boyfriend, and I'm also aware of how the HPSC controlled his actions and personality in public. I also know that Keigo is a considerate person and cares deeply for the people he works with. It's for those reasons that I don't blame Keigo for not immediately shoving Kiki away or yelling at her to keep her distance from him. Lashing out at her would only get him in trouble and nag at his subconscious.

I think for a few moments, mind filing through ways I could possibly save my boyfriend from the predicament he was in. My gaze falls on the twitching feather again, and my eyes widen at the newfound idea in my mind. 

I kick myself off of the lamp pole, unfolding my arms and reaching a hand up to gently pinch the feather between my fingers, knowing exactly how sensitive the item is. With measured actions, I tentatively bring the feather to my lips and softly graze it against them, smiling when I catch Keigo stiffening across the street. 

“Hey Kei,” I whisper, knowing the blonde could hear my every word.

Keigo's head whips around: beady, golden eyes immediately finding me and lighting up with a happiness I recognize all too well. He hastily pulls Kiki’s hand from his chest and makes his way over to me, all in a matter of mere seconds. A man too fast for his own good, I chuckle to myself, finding amusement in my own thought.

“Hello my love,” Keigo greets, arms instinctively wrapping around my waist and pulling me close.

I smile, soft and almost unnoticeable, but Keigo knows it's there nonetheless, and I bring my hands up to cradle his face in my palms.

“Hello,” I mumble, gaze fixed on the way Keigo's lips are spread into a wide smile, and his eyes are filled with that fondness always aimed at me. If there was ever any doubt as to whether or not Keigo loved me, all that you needed to do was analyze the way he looked at me. In those golden, sunset irises, you’d always find the undeniable answer written between his affection.

Keigo lets out a soft chuckle before pulling his face from my hands and closing the distance between us, nuzzling his face against my cheek with quiet chirps escaping his lips.

“Missed you so much,” Keigo coos, planting soft pecks against my cheek.

“You're going to get into trouble with the commission,” I warn, making no effort to put a stop to his actions of showering me with affection.

“Don't care,” he says, voice muffled where his face is buried in the crook of my neck.

“I know, but I do,” I say with a giggle, softly running a hand through his hair and pulling out a small twig that likely got stuck there when he was flying.

“I wanna kiss you,” he admits quietly, the sadness shining through in his tone. My brows draw together in a sympathetic frown, only able to imagine how trapped he feels, bound by the HPSC’s rules and regulations.

As much as I would have loved for him to kiss me right then, I knew it only spelled trouble for the both of us. The way his arms were wrapped around me now was already bordering on the limits set for us by the commission. Anything else would definitely end in ruin.

“Kei,” I gently warn, and he gets the message hidden behind the word, pulling his face from my neck and standing upright, releasing my form and taking a small step back. His lips are jutted out in a pout, and his brows are settled in a light frown, pulling yet another soft giggle from me at how adorable he looks.

Picking up the feather around my neck again, I place it against my lips to give it a kiss, and Keigo's cheeks flare up in a blush. 

“I'll give you a proper kiss when you get home after patrol, Pretty Bird,” I promise, never missing the way my boyfriend’s eyes light up in excitement. Like a kiss from me is some holy gift bestowed on him from above.

“I'm holding you to that,” Keigo says, wings flapping behind him and sending a gust of wind my way as he rises up in the air. He gives me a final wave and blows me a kiss before he flies away, leaving me alone on the ground. 

My eyes fall from the sky and land on Kiki, who is staring forward with a stunned expression, mouth hanging open in pure bewilderment and shock, as if I'm the one that just tried to steal her boyfriend. The ridiculous notion causes me to laugh, catching her attention and bringing her focus back to reality.

With a smug, self-satisfied smirk, I pull the feather between my fingers again to hold it out on display for the woman, my other hand raising to flip her the bird. (Pun fully intended.)

˗ˋ Bonus ˊ˗

“Hello my love.”

Keigo tackles me into the couch’s cushions, and I giggle freely at the chirps filling the air and the lips tickling my ear. I scrunch my nose at the sensation, hands burying themselves in Keigo's hair to try and reel him in a little.

“Hi Pretty Bird,” I greet back, earning me a happy chirp at the nickname. “I missed you too.”

“Hmm,” Keigo hums, placing another peck on my cheek and pulling back to place his forehead against mine. “Where's my promised kiss?”

My lips tug into a smile, and I can't resist the urge to tease him at least a little.

“Where's my—”

I'm interrupted by Keigo’s phone ringing, his ringtone blaring from the coffee table and disrupting the peace of our shared apartment.

We stare at the lit-up screen for a moment, both of us able to recognize the caller ID as that belonging to the HPSC. My stomach twists nervously, and I shoot Keigo a concerned glance.

“Did you get into trouble?” I question, fearing the answer would be yes. 

Keigo looks to me as well, ignoring the phone still ringing in the background. His lips are pulled into a guilty smile, brows furrowed nervously. “I wouldn't exactly call it trouble,” he says, tilting his head to the side. 

In his attempt to avoid any events that may have transpired earlier that afternoon, I find my concern melting away, replaced by fondness and endearment.

“Shouldn't you answer that?” I question, pointing to the phone still ringing on the coffee table.

Keigo sends a feather out to retrieve his phone, inspecting it in his hand before pressing the ‘decline’ button and tossing the device over his shoulder.

“Nah,” he says, lips curling into a lazy smirk. “I'd rather take that kiss now.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes, cupping his face all the same and pulling him closer to slot our lips together; the action so fluid and natural. Like it was always meant to be Keigo's lips and no one else's.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Sweeter Than Revenge

Steve sighed as Nancy and Jonathan walked into Scoops Ahoy, yet again. He was pretty sure they were coming in here to mock him.

"Your ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend are here again," Robin said.

"Yeah, I know that. Thanks for the update," Steve scoffed.

"Just trying to be helpful," Robin said.

"I don't think you are," Steve replied.

Nancy and Jonathan were in the back of the line. Every so often, they'd look at them and then turn to each other to laugh. Jesus. Could they drive the knife in even further? Wasn't it bad enough that she left him for Jonathan? Why did they have to go out of their way and rub it in? He could feel Robin watching him as he served another customer. They were one step closer to him.

"Pretty sure, they'd stop coming in here if you tried to flirt with Nancy again," Robin said.

"That's the worst revenge plan yet," Steve said.

"No, the worst revenge plan would be me pretending to be your girlfriend," Robin said as she took the next customer.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I don't date jocks even if it's pretend," Robin said. "Nothing personal."

"Well, Nancy left me for Jonathan. Wouldn't it be funny if I tried to steal Jonathan away from her?" Steve asked. "Ultimate revenge."

"If you're into that sort of thing," she said, looking at him strangely.

"Please, you know that I am," Steve scoffed.

"Uh. . .no, I don't. Last time I checked, you were a notorious ladies' man. Or at least I thought you were. You seem pretty terrible at it," Robin said.

"Robin," Steve said, lowering his voice. "You caught me with that dude on my break out back the other day. You seemed cool with it.".

"Okay. . .I thought that had been a woman," she said, blinking at him, and she also lowered her voice. "So, you're. . .?"

"Bisexual," he whispered after he served another customer.

Nancy and Jonathan were even closer to the counter now. He sighed.

"What?"

"Babes and non babes alike, Robin," he explained.

"Oh. Thanks for telling me," she said softly.

She looked at him as if she wanted to tell him something, too. She got choked up, though, and couldn't seem to find the words.

"Are you okay?" He asked and then turned to the customers. "Give us a moment."

He dragged her to the break room, where she slid to the floor. Steve sat down next to her.

"Just the babes for me," she said.

"Yeah?" He said with a smile.

"Yeah. . .Tammy Thompson. . .Mrs. Click's class. She couldn't stop staring at you, and I wanted her to look at me," Robin said.

"Tammy Thompson. . .doesn't she sound like a muppet?" He asked.

"Shut up, she's got dreams!" She exclaimed. "At least, I'm not hung up on my ex and her boyfriend."

Robin and Steve both burst into laughter. They fell into comfortable silence, Steve smiled at her.

"Fair point," he replied. "I'm pretty sure they're coming in here to mock me and this outfit."

"Then all the more reason to steal Jonathan, and if that doesn't work, then it will definitely make him uncomfortable," Robin said. "They'd have no choice but to leave."

"Alright, let's do this," Steve said.

They walked out the door to find that it was only Nancy and Jonathan were at the counter.

"The others got impatient," Nancy said.

"I guess they really wanted that cream," Robin said, and Jonathan said.

"Welcome to Scoops Ahoy, I'm Steve Harrington, I'll be your captain. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me?" He asked as he leaned against the counter, winking at Jonathan.

"Uh. . .we know who you are," Jonathan said.

"It's company policy now," he said smiling. "Your hair looks different today. Did you do something?"

"I brushed it out of my eyes?" He asked in confusion.

"Well, it's a good look. . .I can definitely see your gorgeous eyes a little better now," Steve said, smiling.

"Steve?" Nancy asked in confusion.

"So. . .what do you want?" Steve asked Jonathan, ignoring Nancy. "You look like you know what tastes good in your mouth."

Jonathan choked, and he could hear Robin gagging in the background.

"I mean, I like the USS Butterscotch," Jonathan blushed. "I know everyone does. . ."

"It's a great choice. Personally, I like the mint," Steve said.

He scooped up a sample cup and grabbed a little spoon. Steve dug in and put the spoon in his mouth. He slowly ate the bite of ice cream, his tongue wrapped around the spoon and licking up every bite. Nancy and Jonathan both watched him. Steve put more ice cream on the spoon and held it out for Jonathan.

"What?" He asked in confusion.

"Go on, taste," he said.

Jonathan leaned forward and took the spoon in his mouth. He ate the ice cream, with confusion and also a little bit of darkness in his eyes. Steve smirked.

"It's good," Jonathan said.

"You know, my tongue had been on the spoon, and then you had the spoon in your mouth. . .almost as if my tongue had been in your mouth," Steve said. "Isn't that crazy?"

"It's not crazy at all," Jonathan said.

"Steve!" Nancy exclaimed, snapping out of her daze.

"What?" Steve asked. "Do you not like me flirting with your boyfriend?"

Nancy scowled at him before dragging Jonathan with her past the counter. Before he could tell Nancy off, she was dragging both him and Jonathan into the break room.

"He's taking a break!" Nancy yelled to Robin.

"You aren't the boss of us!" Robin yelled back.

Nancy dragged them into the storage closet. It was small, so it was a tight fit. Steve was surprised when they both shoved him up against the wall. He felt something hard of Jonathan's pressed up against him. Oh. He was more surprised when Nancy and Jonathan both pressed their lips to his neck. Steve let out a shocked, but not unpleasant, moan. Was this really happening?

"You have no idea what this outfit does to us," Nancy said, pulling away.

"I'm starting to have some idea," Steve gasped. "I thought you were teasing me."

"Oh, honey, you haven't seen us tease you quite just yet," Nancy said, cupping his face.

"But you will," Jonathan said as he also pulled away.

"You both want me?" Steve asked.

"Always have. . .we just didn't know how to tell you," Jonathan said.

"Sorry, it took so long," Nancy said.

Steve pulled Nancy into a familiar but, somehow, new kiss. She smiled against his lips. Steve pulled away and turned to kiss Jonathan. It was a good feeling to have their lips touch his. . .it felt like it was something that was always supposed to happen. When he broke the kiss, Jonathan was smiling at him in amusement.

"I definitely liked the taste of that in my mouth," Jonathan said and Steve laughed.

"Oh god, I don't want to ruin this," he said.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"When I thought you were coming in here to make fun of me, I got this idea in my head to steal Jonathan from you as revenge," Steve said. "I know, I'm better than that now. . .but I guess not really."

"You're an idiot, Steve Harrington," Nancy laughed. "I wish I could have seen that play out."

"You're beautiful, Nancy Wheeler," he said with a relieved sigh. ". . .and you're okay to look at, Jonathan Byers."

"Fuck off, asshole," Jonathan laughed.

Steve giggled and pulled them into a hug. Yeah, this was sweeter than revenge.

[mooningningg]

秘密 — ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇꜱ.

[歌] secret relationship situations with jjk men

[pairings] megumi f, satoru g, yuuji i, and suguru g.

[warnings] none.

[genre] fluff.

[notes] Im back!? anyway, hit me up for request queens.

Megumi.

You arrive at school, your friends immediately noticing your navy blue hoodie and dark jeans.

“Hey, nice outfit,” one of them comments, glancing at you with a smirk. “Didn’t know you were into that style.”

You shrug, pretending nonchalance. “Just felt like wearing it today.”

Later, during lunch, your friends are still eyeing you curiously. “Did you see Megumi today?” one asks. “He was wearing the exact same thing.”

You try to stay calm, but your heart skips a beat. “Really? That’s funny.”

One friend raises an eyebrow. “Seems like more than just a coincidence, don’t you think?”

You shift in your seat, feeling a bit flustered. “Maybe we both just have good taste.”

As the day goes on, you find yourself stealing glances at Megumi from across the hall, catching his eye. He gives you a subtle, knowing smile, confirming that the matching outfits weren’t just a fluke.

Satoru.

it was a soft afternoon, underneath the shades of the tree sat a bunch of friends, finding themselves in yet a very unnecessary fight amongst their own disagreements.

"dogs are so annoying, sure they can be cute but have you ever smelled their piss?" shoko exclaims with furrowed eyebrows, taking out the lollipop she had in her mouth to speak her mind while laying her head on suguru's lap.

suguru scoffed at her statement, "for once I agree with this woman."

shoko brings her hand to flick suguru on the forehead who flinched at the force.

"i don't know, they can be loyal at times— cats on the other hand? not so much." you protest with a shrug you had your back leaning on a tree.

shoko gasps at your statement, "cats can be loyal!"

"if considering taking a shit on your bed is loyal then sure they are." satoru exclaims with a chuckle at the end of his sentence.

suguru raises his eyebrow in confusion, "whose side are you on? you hate dogs."

you and satoru both glanced at each other with panic in your eyes, this wasn't suppose to happen.

"you literally barf around them." shoko mentions with a laugh.

"no i don't shut up!" satoru exclaims with a irritated tone before kicking the woman playfully.

thankfully enough, suguru's suspicion was soon disregarded as you all moved on to another thing to fight about.

Yuuji.

"this movie looks cool as fuck." yuuji exclaims with excitemend evident in his eyes.

"seriously? plumber head 2?" nobara asks, her face deadpanned and so done with whatever yuuji was on.

megumi rolls his eyes feeling the boredom already oozing out from him, "im going home."

"what? but you guys promised!" yuuji exclaims with pleading eyes.

meanwhile you stoor there, your hands in your pocket as you watch your boyfriend in secret plead both of you friends to watch his said favorite movie.

yuuji then turns to you with panic seen in his eyes, "baby please tell them to stay!"

oh shit.

"baby?" nobara asks again, she heard it, she just wanted to make sure if she heard it right.

your eyes instantly went wide with yuuji flying up a hand to cover his mouth but it was too late.

you four stared at each other... awkwardly.

"so— you two?" nobara asks, her eyebrows furrowed feeling slightly nervius about the situation weirdly enough.

your minds race to things that could get you out of this situation but nothing came out so you just sighed in relief, "yeah."

"unfortunately." megumi insults with a serious expression before earning a jab from yuuji who received a punch on the back of his head from the raven haired

that was one way to announce your relationship.

Suguru.

It was inevitable, of course. you knew the conditions of dating suguru, he was attractive, of course girls would throw themselves on him. going their way to try their chances.

you knew it from the start you agreed to keep your relationship secluded and a secret.

you watch from a good distance as suguru shifted in his position as a random girl stops him on his tracks on his way to you with a slirty smile, pushing up her chest ridiculously.

suguru scratches the back of his head with a awkward smile, they were talking. but it wasn't audible from your distance so you just watched. you knew you couldn't act rash, you trusted suguru.

before you knew it, the girl had already walked away with pain and anger evident on her face, as if something with suguru's words had shattered her heart.

you see your boyfriend walking his way to you, his usual soft and warm smile not falterring for a moment as he finally stops in front of you, "well that was annoying."

"she looked angry." you mention, folding your arms in front of your chest as he chuckles, you couldn't scan any tone or emotion in his chuckle it was as if, a rumble in his chest to sweeten the words he was about to say next.

"it was nothing, let's go?" suguru offers to you, discarding the topic. you knew more than to push it further.

you knew suguru, you knew at the end of the day he was gonna come home to you, only you.

[satorubrain]

Hey I heard you are taking requests what if “Gojo gets jealous cause reader getting hit on by someone TALLER than him” <333

Hydrangeas.

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader.

Tags: Fluff, jealousy.

Synopsis: Stupid baby is late to your date and then he gets jealous.

A/N: ANON THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA I HAVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW THE REQUEST ITS SO YUM I LOVE JEALOUS AND A LIL BUTTHURT GOJO

It was the hydrangea season, which was also one of your favorite flowers. Making it an excellent idea to ask you out on a date.

Wanting to stun him with your looks you decided to wear a bluish-lavender flowy dress, adorned with bows and laces around your waist and neckline, shoulder straps made of pearls exposing your shoulders, and a choker of the same pattern that came with the dress. Oh, how ethereal you looked right now.

Though you dolled up for your lovely boyfriend who has been half an hour late, people couldn't help but turn their heads to take a glance at you. Some were even brave enough to come up to you and ask for your number. You immediately rejected everyone's advances while waiting for Gojo, standing in the heat of the sun- until a man, a tall one at that decided to tower over you, blocking the sun's rays. You couldn't be more thankful to him, letting out a relieved sigh.

"What's a pretty lady doing here all alone? No way should someone dare to stand you? That too in such heat, that's quite cruel" He sighed. "But are you feeling better now?" He inquired, smiling gently.

Oh, he was quite a gentleman, nice and well-spoken. His tone would charm any person, easing their worries. And that's what it did to you. The heat had already cooked your brain with Satoru nowhere to be found, no texts received from him nor were you able to reach him. But you were thankful to the stranger for accompanying you- which stopped people from asking about you.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Are you alright?" The stranger questioned, worried.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine! Thank you." You answered politely, not willing to further the conversation any longer which might lead to misunderstandings between you and your boyfriend but that didn't stop the stranger from talking to you.

As another half an hour passed by you were laughing with the stranger about some random things, him suggesting places to visit- creating a perfect picture of a couple having their cute little conversation.

This was bad, as Satoru overheard people talking about a couple while heading toward you. Fastening his steps to rush toward the entrance he sees you along with some random man. He was visibly annoyed. Not at you but at the man, he saw you maintain the distance but also saw how he made you laugh, how he stared at you fondly and realized how badly that random guy wants to steal his ethereal oblivious woman from him. Gojo wanted to stay calm but right now his heart was being twisted, the pang in his chest worsening every moment thinking how he was already so late for a date he planned.

And suddenly Gojo was beside you, pulling you into his chest by your waist standing in between the guy and you.

"Hello, my stunning lady, I'm sorry you had to wait for me" he complimented you before trying to kiss you, which you swatted away.

"Why. Are. You. So. Late." You glared at him before turning to the guy who visibly hovered over Satoru as well. Which quite surprised you. 'tall' you thought to yourself before collecting your thoughts together. "Thank you for accompanying me today, it was nice meeting you." you slightly bowed as a sign of respect and wishing him a goodbye.

"Yeah thanks but you can lea-" Before Satoru could finish his cold sentence, he was cut off and ignored.

"It was nice meeting you too, how about we meet later for a coffee? We can be good friends I think" the man suggested. This took you and Satoru both by surprise. You were amazed by the guy whereas Satoru was aggravated by his arrogance.

"Did your brain stop working and perhaps made you blind as well? Did you just ask my girlfriend for a date in front of me? Do you perhaps have a death wish?" Gojo's tone was sharp. He was barely holding himself back and to make it all worse he had to tilt his head higher than he would've normally had to. Satoru loved how he hovered over the most but this time his pride took a huge blow when this random guy flirted with his woman while ignoring him and towering over him.

"Well, then you clearly aren't doing a good job at being a boyfriend. Making your pretty girlfriend wait for at least an hour then you start being rude to people who help her? Seems a little...." He retorts.

It's almost as if Gojo is stabbed in the heart and if anything, he'd look like he's making excuses for his mistreatment toward you.

"Alright, that's enough. I'm thankful to you for tagging along with me but please I'd rather you not be disrespectful to my boyfriend" You cut them off, not wanting to escalate the issue any further and drag Gojo inside the park finally starting your awaited date. It doesn't help how he also entered the park with you guys before you soon went on different paths.

Satoru soon reverts to his old self, cracking up jokes, telling you the random fun facts you love while grinning proudly with you at his side and showering you with endless compliments. But you also notice how he's a lil extra close and how he is even more talkative today, almost as if he's overcompensating. You know him all too well and know how he's feeling quite awful. You know behind that overly confident person is your Satoru who, like any other human has ordinary feelings.

You are both seated on a bench enjoying your ice cream, speaking seriously once you both finish eating "Uhm, I'm sorry for being late. It is solely my fault and then they also called me up for an emergency- so yeah, but I promise I'll make it up" He looks at you with eyes pleading for forgiveness, slightly overthinking the entire ordeal.

"Satoru, it's fine, I realized that the moment I saw you, okay?" You comfort him by pulling him into a hug "But next time inform me alright? I'll be there to help you out!!"

You feel his shoulders relax a bit as he pulls away before gently cupping your cheek and kissing you softly with his other arm wrapped around your waist.

"You know that I love you the most, right?" He confesses sincerely, pure words from the bottom of his heart.

"Mn. And I love you too Satoru" You replied earnestly. "By the way, Satoru. Y'know you should've just started levitating while doing a T-post to assert your dominance over that guy" You joke around, giggling "Imagine. How that would've scared him" you continue successfully eliciting a genuine laugh from Gojo, a pleasant sound to your ears.

Gojo inhales sharply through his teeth. "Tsk. I really should've done that. Even better! maybe I'll pick you up and kiss you in front of everyone" he giggled. His worries are now long forgotten.

Except whenever he sees the man- around a stall or walking by, much to your embarrassment. Gojo does lift you in his arms in front of everyone before kissing you. The gesture announces to everyone that you both belong to each other.

"You're annoying" You giggle wrapping arms around his neck.

"Is that so? I fail to see that you're annoyed" He retorts as he shushes you before you say anything, with his lips.

I FEEL LIKE I KINDA WENT OVERBOARD BUT I HOPE U LIKE IT.

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[icycoldninja]

Hi, can i request Vergil x jealous fem!reader.

I’ve seen people do the other way around but Vergil is too damn fine for girls to ignore. Reader is normally shy but when the other women dose not get the hint that Vergil is taken while also mistreating the reader, she lashes out to the point Vergil has to get her out of there since they were causing a scene in the restaurant. Reader gets embarrassed and ashamed but Vergil ends up comforting her <3

Yes, he is fine as hell, lol. Here ya go, enjoy!

Too good for you (Vergil x jealous!fem!Reader angst/fluff)

Folding your arms in your seat at the quaint, cozy restaurant Vergil had taken you to, you grumbled at the scene before you, your dissatisfaction very clearly expressed on your face.

Your boyfriend Vergil had decided to take you to a cute little restaurant for dinner as opposed to something fancier simply for the homely atmosphere. Honestly, at this point, you were beginning to wish he'd taken you somewhere fancier because if he did, there would be a less likely chance of the waitresses crowding around your table, chattering away at him as they were now.

"Oh my God, look at his muscles!" One of them squealed, reaching out to poke Vergil's bicep. After seeing this, you wished he hadn't chosen to take off his cost to eat.

"And his hands are so big and strong," Another cooed, this one a dumb looking bimbo with too much makeup and dry hair.

"He is so good looking, I'm folding like clean laundry!" Giggled yet another woman whose face you couldn't see, to a bitchy-looking girl who had way too many lip fillers.

"I know, right?" She cackled, lightly running her hands, adorned with ridiculously long neon pink talons down Vergil's forearm.

These women--no--these bitches were treating Vergil more like an object to be admired rather than a person, seeing as they weren't respecting his personal space, or yours for that matter.

"Could I sit there?" Asked one woman, pointing to your seat. When you looked up to meet her face, you nearly recoiled in shock--she looked like a literal clown with her face paint and awful hairdo, not to mention her weird looking outfit that seemed to have been together from whatever she could find in a local high school's lost and found box.

"N-no...no, you can't," You finally answered, once you'd regained your ability to speak. In response to your words, the woman pouted, but did not leave. Instead, she seized your arm and began pulling on you in an attempt to get you out of your seat, that you were paying for. Good God, the entitlement of this woman!

Vergil himself ignored the women harassing him; it didn't bother him one bit, he'd endured worse at the hands of Mundus. But to see you being harassed by anyone at all made him put his foot down.

"Take your hands off her," He commanded, staring at the woman with a glare cold enough to freeze lava.

The woman, visibly upset, moodily took her hands off you and stalked away, though once she left, several more took her place. Groaning internally, you focused your attention on the table, trying so very hard to tune out the world around you. Vergil saw this, obviously, and reached across the table for your hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

You'd think by now, the women would have gotten the hint that the man they were fawning over was already taken, but nooooo. These girls were either idiots or they thought they could steal your boyfriend right out from under you. All of them. At once.

There was a severe lack of braincells in that room, unfortunately.

As you were trying so very hard to ignore these pests, one girl had the audacity to remark,

"You, girl, are way out of your league. He's too good for you."

"Yeah, bestie. Seriously though," Another girl scoffed. "He's male model hot, and you're just, well, basic."

"Yup, pretty basic bitch right here," Chimed in the third. "It makes no sense, why do ugly girls get all the fine men?" The girls were now talking amongst themselves about you, rather than to you.

"Honestly, he should just leave her,'" Sighed one of the girls. "He can do so much better."

At that point, you lost all the last shreds of self control you had left. With a screech unfamiliar to even your own brain, you lifted your glass of water and splashed it on the girls, effectively soaking their shirts and pants. Squealing like the little piggy that went "wee, wee, wee," all the way home, the girls fled from the scene, naturally causing a great deal of confusion and tension to arise in the restaurant.

You caught sight of a manager approaching you, as did Vergil, who immediately leapt from his seat, slipped on his coat, took your hand in his, and briskly led you out the door.

The two of you walked in silence for some time before you decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry, Vergil." You sighed, sounding sadder than you meant to.

"For what?" He replied, turning to look at you.

"For...ruining our dinner date...and causing a scene...and embarrassing the both of us in public..." You let out a shaky, nervous sigh which quickly turned into a small gasp of surprise when Vergil let go of your hand and thew his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

"You have nothing to apologize for." He told you, sternly.

"I...don't?" You asked, confused.

"Not at all." He affirmed, rubbing small circles into your shoulder with his thumb. "It was simply an act of jealousy. I would have done the same, had our roles been reversed." He paused a moment before adding with a smile,

"I am proud of you for standing up for yourself, and me." A tiny, unintentional gasp left you as you stared up at him, noting how his cold blue eyes glowed with a warmth reserved only for moments like this between the two of you.

"Really?" You inquired, almost breathlessly.

"Absolutely. It shows you have power, that you are willing to fight when necessary. It means you are motivated," Vergil said, leaning down to plant a soft and brief kiss on your forehead. "Do not stress over it any longer. Let us return home. We will continue our dinner date there."

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around Vergil's torso, clinging onto him as you walked--a very rare occurrence, which you savored. Now that your jealousy was gone, you had to admit, those women had a point: Vergil really was too good for you.

[fandomnerd9602]

Uncharted Territory

Lara Croft x Drake!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Outside the pub windows was the blurring neon glow of London. Inside, the fire crackled merrily, casting flickering shadows on the worn wooden beams. You nursed a pint of ale, eyes following the curve of Lara's neck as she sipped her tea.

"Lost in the Amazon again, I see," she teased, her lips quirking in a smile. Her braid swung back and forth as she leaned closer, the firelight highlighting the emerald flecks in her eyes.

It wasn't every day you got to share a fire with Lara Croft, world-renowned adventurer and the love of your life. You chuckled, taking a swig of my ale. "Just trying to decipher a cryptic pirate journal Nate unearthed from his latest escapade. Apparently, there's a hidden fortune of Captain Kidd somewhere off the coast of Madagascar."

Lara scoffed, a playful glint in her eye. "Knowing Nate, it's probably buried under a pile of bad puns and empty rum bottles."

You couldn't help but agree. "Sounds about right. Though I wouldn't put it past him to actually stumble upon the loot by sheer dumb luck."

You both fell silent, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. Dating Lara meant a life far removed from the quiet bookstore job. Her adventures brought danger and excitement. Yet, there was something undeniably thrilling about holding her hand as she recounted tales of dodging booby-trapped temples and outsmarting ruthless mercenaries.

"Are you coming, (Y/N)?" Her voice broke the stillness, her gaze softening. "To Madagascar, I mean."

You hesitated. The thought of Lara facing another treasure hunt alone gnawed at your soul. But you also knew she craved these challenges, that her curiosity and thirst for knowledge were as vital to her as air.

"Not this time, Lara," You give her hand a squeeze, not wanting to let it go. "That's Nate's turf. You know I wouldn't want to steal his thunder."

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face, but she quickly masked it. "Of course," she said, her voice light. "Besides, I don't think that island could handle two Drakes running amok."

"True enough. Though I might send Sully along to keep him out of too much trouble."

Lara laughed, her giggle was the only thing that made your existence feel like it was something. "Do that. And tell him to pack plenty of wisecracks and rum."

The rest of the evening unfolds in a warm haze of conversation and shared laughter. Reminiscing about past adventures, from misadventures exploring lost Mayan temples with Nate to Lara's encounter with a mythical serpent in the Peruvian jungle.

As the fire dwindled to embers, Lara leaned her head against your shoulder. "You know," she whispers in your ear, "the flight to Madagascar doesn't leave until the morning"

"That's still a couple hours away" you gaze meets her.

"I think we can find one or two ways to make the time fly" she gives you a wink. "My flat's not far from here"

"Lead the way" you gather up your supplies and take her arm in yours.

And with that, you and her slip out into the night, your footsteps blend together into the London streets. One little night together, a bit of wine and a whole lot of mischief.

You are (Y/N) Drake, brother of Nathan Drake, and boyfriend to the bravest, most extraordinary woman in all the world.

[mommahughes19-23]

surprises - Q.H

@tattoosbymorgs : YALLLLLLL, the studio room is DONE! Im going to post a pic to my story of what it looks like for ya!

this weekend was so fun & much needed, boats, boyfriends, besties. Spent the week workin as usual then got to see my babbbby!!

tagged : @quinnhughes @tanevchris @jackhughes @lhughes_06

location : van - mich

_eliaspettersson : dang girl youre kinda talented

luca.fantilli : YOU DIDNT EVEN GO TO UMICH YOU FAKE !!!

↪ tattoosbymorgs : legit fuck off you whore, my hot ass boyfriend did so im just trying to be supportive

bboeser : im just gonna sit and wait for you to figure out why IM NEVER INVITED

jackhughes : thank you for joining us. please dont feel free to tag along next time🫡

↪ tattoosbymorgs : oh silly silly jacklynn 🤣

lhughes_06 : we love a supportive girly who steals every umich item in sight.

↪ tattoosbymorgs : wow very judgmental im telling your mommy

trevorzegras : dang chica youre a busy ass woman... still think you could make time for fam 😔

↪ tattoosbymorgs : no because my mommy said I didn't have to

bradytkachuk : STOP ENCOURAGING EM TO GET A TATTOO PLEASE AND FUCKING THANKS 🖕🏻

↪ tattoosbymorgs : no thank you Brady, NO THANK YOU!

zadorov_16 : I MISS YOU SO MUCH

↪ tattoosbymorgs : So come and visit me ???

elblue6 : Stunning young lady! Thank you for being a part of our family!🙏🏻🙏🏻🤗

dakotajoshua8 : when I am back and healthy its SO on for a tattoo

_tylermyers_ : could you not influence our captain to partake in reckless activities🙄👊🏻

emmamatthews : YOU ARE STUNNING MAMACITA <3 🩷

austonmatthews : boutta slippity slide over there for another tattoo😘

bellzp__ : S T U N N I N G, please omg I can never get enough of you!!🤭

↪ tattoosbymorgs : omg omg omg says you hottie mcbody 🤤

_quinnhughes : I love you so much, I am so glad I could take care of you this week🫶🏻🩷

↪ tattoosbymorgs : bubs, im going to cry. I love you forever & always my lover😘🩷😘🩷😘🩷😘🩷

nilshoglander : so can I possibly have 5 min with my captain? 🙄

↪ tattoosbymorgs : no, you can however have 5 min with US 🩷

j.tmiller9 : ma'am, if you dont put on some clothes right NOW😡

↪ tattoosbymorgs : I AM WEARING CLOTHES WYM???

edwards.73 : I like 👍

tdemko30 : see you soooooon 🫶🏻

ehtkachuk : My bestest friend in the whole wide world and shes hot? ughhhhh 😘😭🩷🥹

colecaufield : woot woot😈

_alexturcotte : nice to finally meet you!!!🤗

MORGAN POSTED A STORY :

the stuuuuuuu (aka the extra room I have in my apartment became useful)

A.N:

HIIIIII! Im so sorry I have been MIA. Here is this and I hope you like

Tags: @babygirlboeser

[mrsmikaelson]

My Human

Human Reader X Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: Elijah Mikaelson's Girlfriend Is Caught In The Crossfire With The Original's First Bloodline Vampire

------&&&&&-

Y\N wakes up with chains around her ankles and wrists after being knocked out.

"Where am I ?" she asks herself looking around

It was a fancy penthouse house you could see all of New Orleans from every angle

"Sweet Y/N is finally awake" A male voice appears without revealing his face

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?" Another Voice spoke, his voice filled with worry.

"The best way to upset the Original is to steal the thing most precious to him"

"Hey, I'm not an object" Y/N snapped trying to break free

The woman's vision begins to blur together with an unbearable pain when she looks at her foot, a piece of wood is seen embedded in her flesh.

“Oh, isn’t this poor little thing in pain?” The same guy who talked about pissing off an original cooed and lifted Y/N's head with his finger. His face shifted to his vampire one and he snarled, showing his fangs.

“It’s too bad Elijah can’t save you, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realised that you’re dead."

" I can't wait to see Elijah cut out your tongue and then your heart... But I think he prefers a more special torture"

" ENOUGH, enough of this nonsense .. it's time for my food"

The man displayed his fangs, then thrust into the young woman's neck, letting the blood flow.

Y/N point Of View

Unbearable pain shout through my neck as his fangs clamped down on my neck, I screamed as the pain shot through my whole body. I vaguely remembered that Elijah said that a vampires bite would hurt bad, of course Elijah has already fed from me, a few times but there has been blood sharing. This is not at all pleasant as it is with my Lijah

I screamed feeling my body giving way when I hear screams and see some bodies of men standing outside being thrown lifeless

"Elijah...."

"Elskan, I'm going to get you out of here." Just seeing my boyfriend's face relieves me.

Seeing him like that, so lethal somehow moved me, a fight was fought between him and the guy who caught me in the first place.

"Lucian, I hope hell is nice this time of year ." Elijah said with his vampire face

"You can't kill me , I'm much better than an Original, my bite can kill you..." Lucian said mockingly

"You're absolutely right, until we find a way to kill you I can't do the honors but nobody said about torture. You know I love torturing anyone who hurts my family"

With that a piece of wood was hurled towards Lucian's abdomen and my rescuer came to pick me up.

"It's safe, let's go home... Niklaus takes care of him"

"He drank from me, I'm too weak" I said without looking at him, fearing that this would increase his thirst.

"Elskan, look at me. No problem, I'll heal you and I'll carry you myself" Elijah bit his own wrist bringing it to my mouth

When the metallic taste hit my tongue I felt relief from the pain, from the fear of it all, my wounds started to heal as he saw the wood in my flesh

"He will suffer, won't he? "

"I sure do hope Freya can find a way to make him ordinary so I can kill him with my own hands" Elijah blocks my view of Nik dragging Lucian's body out of the room.

"Elijah ... Thank you"

" For what?"

" Everything"

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it... I did it with all the love and care I did with Hope Mikaelson

[opheliasflora]

Title: I Could Find My Way Back (Marcus Pike/f!Reader)

Rating: Mature

Word count: 3590

Warnings: Discussions of sexual assault (non-detailed and non-graphic). Swearing. Brief descriptions of kissing/making out. Reader is unnamed; Marcus (and other characters) uses nicknames (i.e.: “Sunny”, “sweetheart”, “chica”). Reader identifies as female but is otherwise unspecific and undescribed.

Notes: In the interest of standing by my belief that fiction can be used to Work Through It, this is a very personal one. And as such, it is maybe not applicable to everyone, but I attempted to approach it with respect and kindness and I hope it rings true enough for someone else.

Dedicated to @ladamedusoif… Thank you. 💜

(Dividers by @saradika-graphics)

The last time you saw Marcus, you were both eighteen, both stupid kids in love but with no idea how to handle it. You’d been preparing for your trip west for college; he was headed south. Daily phone calls turned into weekly letters, into bi-monthly check-ins, into Christmas and birthday cards.

You lost touch soon before it happened, and in more than one therapy session you’d openly wondered if that was to blame for your stupid choices. (Your doctor insisted that was normal but very, very untrue.)

And, nearly twenty-five years later, when you walk into the bar and hear a familiar, long-ago guffaw, your heart skips a beat and your breath catches in your throat.

The laugh causes him to toss his head back, and as he lifts it to normal height again, his eyes slide past you — and then back to you.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Despite your nostalgic shock, you grin brightly. “Heya, Marc.”

He’s off his stool and wrapped around you before you can say any more. “Jesus, Sunny, are you real?” he murmurs against your ear. “I’ve only had two beers so you have to be.”

“I’m real, Marcus,” you giggle, hugging him back. His patchy facial hair is thicker than when he was a stubbly kid, his hair a little longer, a little curlier, and a little greyer, but deep in the recesses of your memory he smells and feels and energizes the exact same as your high school sweetheart. The fact that he immediately falls back on your nickname from the old days makes the nostalgia even stronger.

His friends all but abandoned at the bar after a quick explanation, the two of you settle at a small table towards the back of the pub, Marcus’ beer now sitting opposite your Jack and Coke.

“I’m guessing you’re back for the reunion?” he asks, his thumb and index finger stroking and pulling lightly on your pinky.

It’s as if no time has passed, the comfort is so easy.

You nod, taking a sip of your slightly-too-strong drink. “Yeah. Wasn’t gonna, but had some…unexpected time off work,” you explain. (He doesn’t need to know that you were forced into taking your two-week vacation because your entire department was worried you were about five minutes from a burnout breakdown.) “Figured it couldn’t hurt to come back and see some folks.”

“Like me?” His voice is airy, teasing.

“No. Like Kevin.”

Marcus groans. “Oh, god, he’s gonna try to steal you away from me again, just like in school.”

You laugh. “Isn’t he married now?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “A really nice woman named Lily. Never thought Kev would be the settling down kind, but they’re happy. Expecting a little boy soon, too.”

You remember something else you’d heard. “You’re married, too, no?”

“No,” he replies, and the sadness passes quickly. “I was, for a little while. It didn’t work out so I’m on my own again.”

“I’m sorry, Marc. That sucks.”

“Mm, it’s alright. I’ve moved on.” Marcus takes a swig of his drink and eyes you. “What about you? Husband? Boyfriend? Kids?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “None of the above.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Marcus!”

“Just checking.” He grins, eyes sparkling. “Has it been a long time?”

Pretty much since right after you, you think. But this isn’t the time.

“A while, yeah.”

He takes another mouthful. “A shame,” he mutters when he can speak again.

You almost think you misheard.

“So that settles it. You’re my date to the reunion.”

“What?”

Marcus pinches the skin of your hand. “You heard me. You and me, just like old times. That sound okay?”

You feel like you don’t have much of a choice, but you’re also pretty okay with that. “Uh, yeah. Sure, I guess?”

“Good. Where are you staying?”

You give him the address of the Airbnb you’re in, and he nods. “Alright. I’ll pick you up at five tomorrow, okay?”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

He finishes his beer, then watches — somewhat impressed — as you down the remainder of your own drink. “I’m really glad you’re back, Sunny.”

“Me, too, Marc.”

You aren’t lying.

After several different outfit choices, you’re finally settled and smoothing your striped sweater over the top of your slim black pants, your shoes cute but practical for a night that’ll probably involve far more standing than sitting. You fix your hair quickly as you hear the beep of the horn outside, and grab your phone and purse before running out and locking the door behind you.

Marcus isn’t dressed that much differently than he was at the bar, though now his button down is secured under a blue polka-dotted tie and his jeans have been replaced with a pair of grey slacks. He’s also combed his hair a bit more neatly, though the breeze blowing through the truck’s window has some softly-curly strands falling over his forehead.

You step up to the driver’s seat and rest an elbow on the frame as you lean in to kiss his cheek. “You ready for this? We can still skip out if you want.”

He smiles. “How about we go, and if, after an hour, it’s boring as shit, we sneak out and go to Johnny’s instead?”

It’s the same plan as when you were in school. Johnny’s is the diner on the edge of town — you were shocked to see it was still open when your cab passed it on the way in — and the best place to be a little private and a lot out of the way. You and Marcus had always had a code: if you were at a party or an event or a school thing and you wanted out, it was as simple as a little, “Hey, aren’t we supposed to meet John?” and you knew it was time to go.

“Sounds like a plan,” you reply, winking as you walk around the front of the truck and climbing into the passenger’s seat beside him.

The drive to the high school isn’t long, and the silence between you — punctuated by Springsteen’s greatest hits — is light and breezy. Marcus has always been a careful driver, and you’re happy enough to just watch the old haunts go by out your window as you both breathe-sing to “Thunder Road”.

When he parks in the lot, he’s actually at your door before you can get out, and he offers his arm. “C’mon, just like when we were kids,” he reminds you. You roll your eyes but accept, your hand gripping his bicep as you head into the gymnasium.

“Pike, that cannot be who I think it is!”

You’d recognize Kevin Garcia’s voice anywhere. Marcus’s best friend since childhood, he’s always been loud and boisterous and probably a little more trouble than anyone should be, but you’d always really liked him like a brother.

“Kev, be nice,” Marcus warns, but it’s too late — Kevin has you up in his strong arms, spinning you despite the height and weight you have on him.

“Holy shit, chica, you’re prettier than you were in high school.”

You roll your eyes, hiding your embarrassment. “Could say the same, Kev.” He’s gorgeous — chiseled from marble, you and your girlfriends had always joked. His brown eyes are lighter than Marcus’, but just as easy to lose yourself in; his features are gruffer; his hair more tightly curled. If you hadn’t been spoken for all through high school you might have given him a fair shot. (His friendship with Marcus hadn’t stopped the occasional flirtation from him, anyway.)

Kevin introduces you to Lily, a statuesque redhead with more freckles than you’ve ever seen and a belly that seems to threaten to topple her with one wrong move. Kevin’s palm stays right on it, cautious and protective the whole time the four of you talk, and you can’t help but smile.

You break away from the Garcias after a bit, promising to catch up more before you head home, and you find yourself heading to the catering tables while Marcus stops to chat with a group of people you don’t know very well.

“Hey, you.”

You freeze in place as you’re filling your plate, your blood running cold. Despite every single instinct in your entire being telling you to just drop it and run, you don’t — instead you take a single, deep breath and look up.

It can’t be him. It can’t. Last you’d heard from your lawyers, he had moved out to Arkansas once he was released, and you’d figured that was the end of it.

But it is him. The same sharp, ice-blue eyes. The same swoop of auburn hair, though artificial now.

That same shark-toothed grin.

“I… I’ve gotta — ” The words don’t come, but you run, your plate finally discarded on the table.

You hear him calling out for you but you refuse to turn, your heart pounding in your ears as you desperately look for Marcus.

“Hey, hey, slow down.” It’s Kevin’s voice, his hand on your arm gently. “You alright?”

“I — I need to find Marcus,” you breathe, and you’re annoyed to realize there are tears clogging your throat. “Have you seen him?”

Kevin gestures over his shoulder. “Back by the hoop talking to one of the teachers,” he said. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You wish you could answer but you’re just not ready. Instead, you fake a smile and hurry off, leaving him confused as you beeline towards Marcus.

“John just called,” you manage as soon as you’re in earshot. Marcus turns to you, eyebrow lifted, but when he sees your expression, he adjusts. “We’ve gotta go.”

“Okay.” There’s no question. He says his goodbye to Mr. Williams, his arm snaking around your waist. You know you’re shaking, you can feel it yourself, but you hope he won’t ask — at least, not now. With a little wave to Kevin and Lily who are not far from the door you’re headed towards, you keep close to Marcus’ body and keep your head down.

He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t say a word until you’re in the car and about fifteen blocks from the school. It’s only then that he pulls into the empty parking lot of a local bank and puts the car in park.

“Hey. Sunny, are you okay? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing, it’s…”

You lose control when his hand comes to rest on your knee. Two decades of tears stream from your eyes as you gasp for air, and Marcus jumps out of the car to come to your door and pull you into his arms. You’re still in your seat, but tucked tightly against his chest, your body racked with sobs and your chest burning as you struggle to regain control.

To his credit, Marcus doesn’t push. He holds you, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other stroking gentle lines up your back. You know you’re staining his sweater with your tears, but he gives no indication that it bothers him. Instead, he murmurs in your ear, “It’s alright, it’s okay” over and over.

“I — ” You try to speak, and it’s difficult, but you know you need to get the words out. “I can’t — I can’t tell you here,” you finally manage. “Someone might hear.”

There’s some kind of fear in Marcus’ eyes when he pulls back to meet yours. “Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Alright. Do you want to go back to the apartment, or do you want to come to mine?”

An irrational thought comes into your head: What if he knows where I’m staying?

“Can we go to yours?”

“Of course.” He brushes your cheeks with his palms. “Are you okay? Do you want to wait a few more minutes?”

You shake your head. “No. I don’t want to… I want to get out of here.”

Marcus smiles comfortingly and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, Sunny.”

It isn’t until you’re settled on the couch, your still-shaking hands wrapped around a mug of tea, that Marcus joins you, his dark eyes soft and concerned.

“Do you want to talk?”

You nod, and Marcus shifts closer, his knee bumping against yours as he rests an arm across the back of the sofa, right along your shoulders.

“I was at the catering table,” you start. “And Mr. Mason came up to me.”

“The chemistry teacher?”

You nod. Marcus doesn’t pry, letting you tell the story on your own time, but his thumb strokes over the back of your neck gently.

“Everyone knows he was a bit of a weirdo, right?”

“I never had him as a teacher, but yeah, I heard he was a little…off.”

You take a deep breath. “He wasn’t just off, Marc.” A pause. “After we graduated, I ran into him at the movies one night. My friends wanted to go to a club after, and I didn’t, so Mr. Mason offered to drive me home.”

Your heart is racing, and you’re not sure the words will come out, but you close your eyes and force them past your lips. “We never made it to my house. He…he raped me and left me on the street a mile from home.”

When you manage to look up again, Marcus’ handsome face is white with rage. His hand has stilled behind you, his thumb against the bend of your shoulder.

“And he just…showed up today?” There’s something new to his voice, something dark and sinister in it. You’re moved to put your cup down and press your palms to his thigh.

“He went to jail for five years,” you explain. “It was a miracle he even got that.” This part feels easier, somehow. “They tried to…say it was my fault, that I’d enticed him. But he had bruises from where I fought back. It was enough, I guess.” You sigh. “When he got out, my lawyers told me they said he’d been…rehabilitated. He registered and moved away. I…didn’t think I’d ever see him again, but today… He was right there. Marc, I could feel him, he was so close.”

You can feel his body trembling under your hands, and you wonder if telling him was the right thing to do. Marcus is in the FBI. You’ve known this for years, been aware of his career, and telling him about your assault and the fact that the man who did it is still around might not be the best move on your part. He may be your sweet, kind, loving friend — but he’s also a trained law enforcement agent.

“Did he touch you tonight?”

You’re startled back to the moment. “N-no. He just said hi, really casual. I couldn’t even reply. I panicked and ran to you.”

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

You tighten your fingers on his leg, shaking your head viciously. “No. Marcus, no. I don’t even know if he wanted anything other than to say hi…”

“He has no right!” He pushes off the couch, away from you. “He hurt you. And then he gets to come back and pretend he’s just your old teacher? Who the hell let him back into that school?”

You can feel tears pricking at your eyelashes again and you drop your hands into your own lap. “It’s been twenty-four years, Marc,” you whisper. “He’s been out longer than he was in. It doesn’t mean much to anyone anymore, so long as he’s not back to teaching. I’m an adult — they can’t legally make him stay away from me after all this time, not unless he does something again.”

“This is insane,” Marcus roars. “I’m going back. I’m going to confront him.”

“Marcus, no.” You climb to your feet, this time catching his face in your hands. “I wanted you to know but I don’t want you to do anything stupid.”

“He hurt you, Sunny,” he says, gripping your forearms lightly. “Shit, I should have taken you with me when I left that summer.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reply. “Or mine. Legally, he got his punishment. It doesn’t matter how I feel about it now — he’s done his time.”

“But you…”

“I survived, Marc,” you say, the tears falling again. “It’s been hell, but I’m here. And I found you again, so that tells me I did something right.”

“I should have stayed with you. Or taken you with me,” he repeats, and you see his eyes shimmering just the same. “I wish I’d have been here to protect you.”

“You protected me tonight, Marc.” You take a tiny step closer, your body up against his. “God, I’m sorry. I should never have told you.” Letting your hands fall slack, they end up on his shoulders as you press your forehead to his chest. “It’s not on you, at all. I just… I don’t know why, but I needed you to know. Selfishly.”

You feel Marcus’ arms slip around you, careful, like you’re made of porcelain. His lips press to the top of your head, his breath shaky as he holds you again. “Not selfish,” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you after. I’m sorry you’re still so scared now.” He tightens his grip, just a little. “I never stopped loving you,” he admits, and your heart skips several beats. “And now I wish I’d have told you that before, because maybe things would have been different.”

You lift your eyes to meet his again, and his face is so stained with tears your own threaten to increase tenfold. “I’m sad you left, but I’m glad you didn’t know me right after,” you say honestly. “I wish no one did.”

“And now?”

You sigh, bringing a hand to your face to wipe your cheeks. “Not perfect, but getting better.”

Marcus’ fingers flex against your spine. “Could say the same about me, in some ways.” You giggle despite yourself, and he closes his eyes. “Sorry. Very different scenarios.”

“Don’t apologize.” You drag a line over his collarbone with your fingertips. “What a fucking pair we are, huh?”

His lips quirk a bit. “Chaos as always,” he replies. He lifts your right hand, pressing his lips to your palm. “Do you want to go back? I won’t leave your side for a moment.”

You shake your head. “No. I’m sorry to miss seeing people, and we’ll have to call Kevin and apologize, but I can’t go back there, Marc.”

“You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

“I need you to stop saying sorry,” you urge. “And I need one more thing from you.”

“What’s that?”

You smile softly for the first time in hours; you know, for the first time since leaving the reunion, that it isn’t the trauma speaking. “Kiss me.”

Shock crosses Marcus’ features, but they’re gone almost instantly and instead, he leans in and captures your mouth with his own, his fingers tilting your chin up to give him better access. In the moment, nothing matters anymore — the past, the trauma, the fear and the pain is all gone as the present takes control and your body reacts to Marcus, back in your arms where he belongs and holding you like you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You wake to the sunlight on your face and the feel of Marcus’ arm around your waist, his breath against your forehead. You’d spent the rest of the night making up for lost time, the conversation between kisses moving from careers to families to life in general. You’d fallen asleep first, barely waking up when Marcus helped you from the couch to his bed, only just aware enough to curl into him as he climbed in behind you.

Peeling yourself out of his grip, you slip out of his bed and down the hallway to the bathroom. In the mirror’s reflection, you see your eyes are still somewhat puffy from crying; your lips are slightly chapped from Marcus’ facial hair. Your makeup is smudged and you groan, grabbing the bar soap on the sink to wash your face best as you can, grateful when you spot a bottle of lotion that will at least somewhat make up for the harsh scrub.

Your sweater smells a bit stale, and you slip it off, grateful for the black tank you’d worn underneath it. You peek into Marcus’ medicine cabinet and find his deodorant, using just enough to make yourself feel just a little better and revelling in the spicy scent you know from him now on your own skin.

When you get back to the bedroom, Marcus is stretching, his eyes bleary as he looks down the bed towards you. “I thought you’d left,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.

You climb in beside him again, sliding your arms around him and pressing a kiss to his patchy beard. “I wouldn’t do that,” you reply. “Not without telling you.”

He strokes a line along your cheek. “Do you wanna get breakfast at Johnny’s before I take you back to your Airbnb?”

“Mm, that’d be nice,” you reply. I don’t want to go back, though. I want to stay here.

As if he can read your mind, he smiles. “You can bring stuff here if you wanna stay a few more days. I’ll pay off your room fees.” He kisses your nose. “Actually, I’d really like it if you would stay.”

“I think I’d like that too.” You hold his gaze. “Marc?”

“Mm?”

“I’m glad I came home.”

He grins, this time kissing you deeply. “Me, too, Sunny. Me, too.”

I do not currently have a taglist but please follow @opheliasflora for future fics and updates.

[tetsunabouquet]

WIP Word Game

Considering @wsknbfanaccnt said she(?) doesn't really knows that many writers here yet and invited anyone interested to try, I'm joining in!

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of that word.

PECULIAR

(Note, whilst these drafts are either one-shots or series that I have yet to finish, none of them come from Can't Help Falling In Love With You or TWP future chapters)

P

Perhaps that was another thing that held you back from making a choice- the humiliation you felt from staying with a guy for the scraps of affection he gave to you in between his basketball practise and games. You had been so happy when he lost to Seirin, because you could see some happiness return to him after finally having a goal other then the NBA itself again. Seeing him enjoy the school tournaments again had been enough to make you feel joy. Now, you couldn't help but look back at the day bitterly, wondering if he had been more willing to spend time with you outside of class if he hadn't regained his passion.

(context: Reader insert who's about to cheat on Aomine because he's a shitty boyfriend)

E

Everyone had been lined up by the head nurse, who had calculated their spacious tents could hold 7 students each. They had tents, instead of bunkers, because the principal who was a bit of a loon but eager for his students to bond and be happy, considered tents to be a superior way of bonding. What brings you closer then itching mosquito bites?

(context: A soulmate story regarding the GOM and the Light & Shadow pair)

C

Cancer. Her hair had fallen out, and she had lost quite some weight. Her eyes were a dark brown, and they took Simon in with a surprising anxiety.

(context: A Shadowhunterverse fic of a dying woman wanting to confess a dark secret to Simon)

U

Upper years at Shoei would tell the tales to the fresh faces every year, like how Ren Ichijo had been dared to steal a goat from a nearby farm and had succeeded, keeping it in her tent with her friends for the remaning night. The stories both frightened and amazed the youngers, and those new to summer camp were eagerly anticipating with nerves of steel just how wild it would be.

(context: the same story as the one from letter E) L

Little did you know, that Akashi was, no matter how refined he was, still a teenage boy deep down. And a teenage boy who suddenly had an attractive teenage girl living in his bedroom would be just as equally interested in gazing at her beauty even if she was small and magical. Do not think Akashi was above boners, and porn mags.

(context: You're a mermaid that Masaomi bought as a pet for Akashi and your mermaid form is much shorter then your human one) I

It had started with him throwing away all her designer make-up in blind fury, wanting to see that Chanel lipstick and anything else that could have possible stained Dr Henshaw completely destroyed. It ended with her being thrown out of the house, whilst he was flinging her personal belongings she had paid for with her own money from the window. Never had he pictured himself doing something so dramatic. That had always been more Kise's style.

(context: Midorima caught his wife cheating with one of his hospital colleagues and you are the woman he falls for shortly after his divorce)

A

After seeing her silently pine after Midorima at the Wintercup, Kise has had enough. The girl he had been dreaming about for an entire year, was still chasing Midorima?!

(context: A story where Kise's been in love with a girl since middle school who only has eyes for Midorima)

R

Rose looked down shyly. "Juleka gave it to me and said I should open it after school." Ah. Marinette had observed the chemistry between the two girls before, and Rose had came out as bisexual to the girls on a sleepover a few months ago.

(context: A Marinette X Kagami fic I once decided to start writing for shits and giggles plus I was in the mood to write some sapphic fluff))

The word I shall give to @vespersposts, @chosenimagines and anyone who wants to join is: Devious (Also I am totally open for someone to invite me once more to participate. This is fun)

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Unspoken Melody p.6

Hi guys, here's a new part of the story, if you've missed part 5 here it is :) If you want to read more of my stories, here's my masterlist.

Two drivers, one unforgettable concert, and a chance encounter with a pop sensation that leaves Oscar questioning everything he thought about music—and maybe even himself.

The morning sun spilled through the windows of your hotel room as you prepared to head back to the paddock. Though you were excited to spend another day with the McLaren team, something felt... off. A heavy pit settled in your stomach, but you brushed it off as nerves.

When you arrived at the paddock, the atmosphere felt different. Subtle, almost imperceptible shifts caught your attention: lingering glances, hushed whispers, and stolen looks cast in your direction. It was enough to make your skin prickle with unease.

You made your way to the McLaren motorhome, determined to push through the odd feeling. But once inside, the whispering intensified. You couldn’t make out any specific words, but the way people avoided your gaze made it clear you were the topic of conversation.

Before you could overthink it, Lando and Zak appeared. Zak clapped his hands loudly, making everyone jump. “Alright, folks, back to work! Now!”

The staff scattered like startled birds, leaving you alone with Lando and Zak. Zak gave you a sympathetic look before heading off, leaving just you and Lando standing in the suddenly quiet space.

Lando shoved his hands into his pockets, avoiding your eyes. “I didn’t think you’d actually come today.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why not? Is something wrong?”

He hesitated, chewing on his lower lip, before pulling out his phone. “You haven’t seen it, have you?”

“Seen what?” you asked, your voice sharp with worry.

Wordlessly, he turned the screen toward you.

Your heart dropped. The headline alone was enough to steal the breath from your lungs: "Pop Star’s Boyfriend Spotted Kissing Another Woman at a Club."

The image beneath it was unmistakable: Mark, your Mark, with his arms wrapped around a woman who was most definitely not you. The picture was clear, capturing the intimate moment in vivid detail. There were more pictures, different angles, different moments. There was no mistaking the truth.

Beneath the photos, a biting paragraph cut even deeper: "Our sources confirm that actor Mark Smith was seen last night at a club kissing a mysterious woman who is most certainly not his long-term girlfriend, international pop star YN. Close friends of Mark’s reveal this isn’t the first time he’s been seen cozying up to someone else, raising questions about the state of their relationship."

Your head buzzed like a static-filled radio, and your vision blurred. The world around you seemed to warp and tilt, and suddenly, it was like you were underwater. Muffled sounds and blurred shapes surrounded you, but none of it made sense.

“YN?” Lando’s voice cut through faintly, but you couldn’t respond.

A pair of gentle hands gripped your shoulders, grounding you. You vaguely registered being lifted, cradled like something fragile. The world swayed, and you felt the solid warmth of someone’s chest against you as you were carried away from the chaos.

The next thing you knew, you were in a quiet, dimly lit room. The air was still, and the hum of the paddock outside was distant. Whoever had carried you placed you gently on a plush sofa. You felt a hand brush against your arm, hesitant and comforting, but you still couldn’t process anything.

The reality of the situation hit like a freight train. You and Mark had been together for a year. It hadn’t been perfect—you knew that. The distance, the mismatched schedules, the occasional arguments—it all came with the territory. But this? This betrayal was something you hadn’t even considered.

Tears spilled over before you could stop them, hot and unrelenting. The pain in your chest was sharp, making it hard to breathe. Images of Mark, memories of your time together, and the stark contrast of that photo on Lando’s phone swirled in your mind.

You curled into yourself, hugging your knees tightly as sobs wracked your body. Whoever had brought you here stayed close, their presence steady and quiet. Occasionally, you felt their hand on your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles.

Time lost all meaning as you sat there, the tears flowing until you were too exhausted to cry anymore. Your thoughts churned, shifting between anger, heartbreak, and a hollow numbness.

At some point, your body betrayed you, dragging you into a fitful sleep. As you drifted off, you felt a pair of strong arms lifting you again, cradling you carefully. The sensation was comforting, like being wrapped in safety, and for the first time since the morning, the tension in your body eased slightly.

Whoever was carrying you murmured something softly, their voice low and full of concern, but you couldn’t make out the words. You sank deeper into the darkness of sleep, the weight of the day pulling you under.

For now, you could escape the pain. But you knew when you woke up, you’d have to face it all over again.

Next part

@justaf1girl

[galaxycunt]

I Can’t Keep Crying pt 6

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

Andddd it’s done! I might play around with this story some more but thank you all who have left comments and likes and just read it in silence ily ur so awesome send in the clowns

When you were probably way too young, and before she died, your mother wanted you to marry someone who could make you comfortable. She married for love, and all that got her was a husband away at sea for months at a time only to be killed by pirates. The boy down the street was studying to be a doctor, you felt her funeral needed to proceed a wedding. You would feel guilty otherwise.

When that got too hard, you set sail with a Marine, an officer even. You convinced him to let you on his ship, who left you to pirates when you were raided. You flirted with death more than lovers after that one, hopping around crews, never feeling comfortable.

When you met Buggy, it was an inn like the one you were in now, you heard about him though he didn’t impress you much. The get up was ridiculous, the nose too off putting to take seriously. He had some goons with him, taking up space at the bar. He wasn’t flirting with you, but with another woman. A woman who left the door open after making her exit.

Slipping in his room was easy, stealing enough berries to find passage with another ship. You felt this town was getting old, an adventure waiting somewhere else for you. You should have known your heist was too easy, a buggy ball knocking you out soon after.

”No one steals from Buggy The Clown.”

That was so long ago, being with him was the longest time you served under anyone. Not even your marriages lasted this long. You weren’t sure how to feel about it now. Buggy could probably charm your mother, she would pray for any child to take your features instead.

You were in love with the pirate captain currently beside you, after being inside you. God, you really loved him. Buggy gazed into your eyes like he could find the meaning of life in them. You could tell he hardly believed you were there, let alone that you loved him.

”Remember when we met?”

He smiled, “how could I forget? Not every day someone robs me.”

”Why did you let me live? Or join?”

He blushed, “I fall in love easily, what can I say? I don’t do slow and subtle.”

”You really don’t.”

You remembered the wound he gave you before you threw his money back at him. You knew when to fight and when to scrape by to live another day. Pirates liked a girl who was desperate enough to keep breathing.

“Security detail, you’re such a funny bullshitter.”

”Geez, sorry I didn’t want my future boyfriend chopping my head off.”

”Wait, really?”

You grin sheepishly, “well, no I wasn’t thinking that at the time.”

”Oh, when did you?”

”Like a couple of weeks before we fucked. At least what I was hoping for, you big flirt.”

He traced circles in your skin, finger roaming around your waist and hip. You hoped you didn’t upset him, that crush was bound to happen anyway. Falling for Buggy was inevitable.

“I mean, I always thought you were cute. You’re my boss, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Authority is hot and all that shit.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, you think back to the other men in you life, did they kiss you like this?

No, they didn’t. Not like this, Buggy was all in. No holding back.

“Remember when you saved me during the storm?”

You didn’t know about the devil fruit, not until a week or so into sailing with him. Buggy was always an excellent sailor, managing the sails with grace amongst the chaos. Showing the decades of experience, as easy as breathing. Until a wave hit him, causing him to tumble off the rope ladder he was on.

You were the first one to grab him, his body going limp. You stayed with him as you dragged him off to his cabin, unsure of what else to do. Drying him off, only for him to spring back into action like nothing happened. A wink and a blown kiss as he ran off to help his crew.

“That’s when I fell for you,” he whispered.

“Really? That soon?”

He shrugged, “when you know, you know.”

You felt like an asshole, the way you been unknowingly playing with his feelings. You hoped he didn’t hold it against you, and yet you wanted to just know it all. You were probably a little selfish that way.

”Did you mean it? That you’d say yes?” his voice faltered, filled with anxiety.

Your hands felt clammy, “yeah. You gotta do it right though, surprise me.”

He smiled, “I’m gonna dazzle your pants off.”

You smacked him playfully, “oh shut up.”

”You’re marrying this, so you can’t be that mad at me!”

”I ain’t marrying you yet.”

”But you will.”

”I will.”

His face fell into an easy smile, enveloping you in his arms. You had to let it happen, he wasn’t going to hurt you. You had to believe that.

You kissed his eyes, cheeks, lips, neck. Over and over, your body tingling with desire. Your mind turned over moments in your past; like when Buggy first taught you to throw knives, when he turned red as a tomato the first time you measured his body, the little pranks he pulled on you using his powers. You loved him in so many different ways.

”It was when you gave that kid some money.”

”What?”

”You did it once, we were in some village, it took me by surprise. No offense, you’re pretty greedy.”

He laughed, “I’m not that bad am I?”

“No, but it was just interesting. Different.”

He hummed in thought, and you wondered if you said the wrong thing. He kissed your knuckles, easing your worried face.

“I been married before. Two times.”

”That’s okay.”

You nodded, “let’s wait. Until the Grand Line. Find a nice quiet island.”

”Let me worry about all that, okay?”

”Yeah.”

Buggy looked at you with a fire in his eyes, scheming and plotting. It excited you, you were really doing this. Third times the charm right? And why the hell not? You did the legit route, a doctor, an officer, and a pirate. A captain even.

It was the stuff of trashy romance novels, a swashbuckling scoundrel who only had a soft side for you. That was Buggy alright, flashy and larger than life. You had one more question, deciding in your head which possible answer you’d like better.

”Where’d you get the ring?”

He laughed, “some bozo took it off his wife and threw it at me, remember that fancy schmancy ship with the gold stairs?”

That was a good haul, you still had the ruby encrusted ashtray. You did like this answer, after all. Why put on airs?

“It really does suit my style, she had taste. Well, for the most part.”

You let the wedding talk go, going back to talking about nothing. Things the ship needs, clothes you wanted to buy. You felt silly, when you thought about the lead up to this moment. You both could’ve been here a long time ago, but maybe that was a good thing.

You weathered the storm, coming out the other side stronger than ever. Buggy was your lifeline, your safe harbor. He was truly, the man of your dreams.