#he approves of the mischief

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

So Sam said in an interview that the perfect boring ending for Karlach would be owning a tavern and that lives in my head rent free.

Every now and again Mol tries to convince Karlach that she's tooootally big and cool enough to drink the strong adult stuff already. Regulars are making bets on how long it takes Mama K to cave.

[hanzajesthanza]

the “well you see i said that precisely to piss you the fuck off” duo 👍

[junietuesday]

see i SAY “oh hes just like me fr” abt fictional characters but thats more like i share one or Maybe two particular neuroses w that character and i extrapolate a bunch of my other emotional issues onto them as well building off that one shared trait. but w gale of waterdeep dekarios hes like ACTUALLY like me for real. his entire self worth has been built on his academic/intellectual ability and so he hypes up that skill in himself and jumps to prove his talent at every opportunity bc hes only worthy of love if hes Good at being smart and Useful for his brain, if hes not a genius then whats the point of his existence. he has a massive ego bc he does know he is actually really good at this one thing and part of it really just is arrogance, but at the same time, that need to be better than everyone else also stems from the fact that he struggles to connect w his peers, so if he doesnt know how to form real relationships, it doesnt matter anyway bc hes Above them, better that they dislike him for his best trait than avoid him bc theres just something different and wrong abt him. hes so starved for love that he threw himself at the feet of the goddess who acknowledged his skill and went above and beyond just to get a sliver of acknowledgement from her, and when she cast him aside for his big expression of devotion, he locked himself away in his tower for a whole year and was just going to lie down and let himself blow up. unless the player pushes him out of it he’d still die for her, and for the world, he’d kill himself if it meant being useful to and accepted by someone, anyone. even if it was the last thing he did.

[leclerc-hs]

a smut where you and Charles aren’t together but he likes you and found out you fucked another driver?

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your best friend have always been oddly close OR charles fucks you hard on your couch warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!!!, angst??, bad french translation, not proofread!!!! word count: ~3.4k author's note: hi not sure if this is exactly what you wanted but this is what i came up with :) xoxo

“Votre relation n’est pas normale.” Your relationship is not normal. Camille murmured softly as she reached over your shoulder, her fingers grazing the wooden bar as she retrieved her drink.

Confusion etched itself across your face, a tapestry of furrowed brows and wide, searching eyes. “On es tamis depuis tojours.” We’ve been friends since forever. You shrug your shoulders with a small smile. “It’s normal.”

“He’s all over you. Constantly.” You watch her eyes wander over to Charles, seated at the table invested in conversation with the rest of your friends. “Even when he’s not with you, he’s checking on you every second he can.”

Your stomach flutters with a cascade of butterflies at the very mention. Yet, it didn’t matter. You were friends. You let out a soft laugh, brushing off her words as you take a leisurely sip of your drink. 

“It means nothing, Cami.” You state. “Besides, I may or may not have hooked up with Lando last week.”

Camille’s fingers deliver a gentle but affection smack of your shoulder, her eyes sparkling in mischief as she gasps in amusement, the sound of her laughter ringing with a warm, melodic tone.

“Mauvaise fille!” Bad girl!

“We were drunk.”

“Was it any good at least?”

A faint, approving smile tugs at the corners of your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the pleasure you’ve taken. Camille responds with another tender, playful tap to your shoulder. 

“We agreed it was a one time thing only though.” You catch the bartender’s eye behind Camille and give a subtle, practiced nod, signaling for a much-needed refill.

“Qu’est-ce qu’une chose unique?” What’s a one-time thing?

His velvety voice glides through the air from behind you, weaving an almost tangible warmth that sends a cascade of shivers across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps to rise and dance over your arms.

Startled by his unexpected presence, you snap around to face him, your eyes widening in alarm. For a moment, the rush of surprise leaves you breathless, but gradually, your nerves settle as you regain your composure.

“Rien.” Nothing. You glance over at the bartender, who has already forgotten about your request for a refill. Charles, noticing your empty glass and the delay, quickly catches the bartender’s eye with a decisive wave. Within moment, he efficiently arranges your drink to be refilled, ensuring its back in your hand in less than a minute.

“All better now, ma lapin?” My bunny. You turn your head to look at him, and a radiant smile spreads across your lips, lighting up your expression with warmth and affection.

Across from you, Camille stifles a snort, her amusement barely contained. The sound prompts you to narrow your eyes at her, a mix of curiosity and mild irritation flickering in your gaze.

Charles casually mentions that he’s heading back to the table, but before he goes, he rests his hand lightly on the small of your back, his touch warm and reassuring. He leans in, his breath tickling your ear as he murmurs softly, “Take it easy tonight, yeah?”

The intimate proximity and his gentle tone sends a soothing shiver down your spine. You nod in acknowledgment, and with a final, lingering look that seems to convey both care and encouragement, he turns and makes his way back to the table.

“He’s so gone for you.”

-

The sun blazes high and fierce, casting a relentless glare over the padel court. The air is thick and stifling, a heavy blanket of heat that wraps around Charles as he steps off the court for a water break.

Charles can feel the sweat beginning to bead on his brow, trickling down his face in steady streams as he grabs a towel to wipe his face.

The players around him, equally drenched and exhausted.

Carlos twists the cap of his water bottle with a soft, satisfying pop, the cool hiss of escaping air mingling with the ambient noise around. As he takes a refreshing swig, he looks over at Charles with a casual yet intrigued expression. His eyes, bright with curiosity, as he casually asks, “What are you doing tonight?”

Charles tosses his sweat-soaked towel onto the bench with a practiced flick, the fabric landing in a damp heap. He then runs his hands down his drenched shirt, attempting to absorb some of the perspiration clinging to his skin. The fabric clings to him, darkened and heavy with sweat, as he wipes his face, the effort evident in every move.

Charles glances at his phone, his eyes catching the sight of two unread messages from you displayed on the lock screen. His gaze flickers to Carlos, who has also noticed the notification, his eyes shifting towards Charles with a curious glint. The brief exchange of glances between them hints at the shared interest in the content of the messages, adding a subtle layer of intrigue to the moment.

“Are you seeing her later?”

“I mean, most likely,” Charles replies with a nonchalant shrug, his attempt to maintain a casual demeanor barely hiding the faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “She’s my best friend.”

“Just a best friend?” Lando then interjects, a gleam of curiosity sparkling in his eyes as he studies Charles.

Charles nods, taking a deep, refreshing gulp from his own water bottle.

“Oh, thank god,” Lando exhales loudly, a wave of relief evident in his voice. “I thought you two might be more than that. I was seriously worried you’d kill me if you found out we hooked up. I mean it was just casual, nothing serious.” 

Charles seemed to freeze in place as soon as the words ‘hooked up’ left Lando’s lips. His demeanor shifted; the casual shrug was replaced by a look of stunned disbelief, his eyes widening slightly. The color in his cheeks deepened, and for a moment, it was as if he had temporarily stopped functioning.

“You did what?” Charles’s voice dropped almost an entire octave, harsh and edged with disbelief. The sudden shift in tone sliced through the air, underscoring the depth of shock and frustration he was feeling inside.

Lando raises his hands in a defensive gesture, his expression a blend of alarm and pleading. His wide eyes and slightly raised eyebrows convey a silent, desperate plea: ‘please don’t kill me’.

Charles could feel the frustration boiling in his chest, an unsettling mix of anger and disbelief churning within him. His mind seemed to short-circuit at the realization that you had slept with Lando; the very thought inconceivable to him. The notion that you, someone so significant to him, had been with someone else—especially Lando—was a stark violation of the sense of ownership and connection he felt. You’re his.

Charles stepped back onto the padel court with a palpable edge, his frustration visibily simmering. As he gripped his racket, each swing was infused with a fierce, almost volatile energy. His movements were sharp and aggressive, the ball smacking hard against the racket with a stinging crack. 

He darted across the court with a tension that made every step seemed charged, his eyes narrowing in concentration and irritation at Lando on the other side of the court. The usual fluidity of his play was replaced by a rigid, almost angry precision, as if he were venting his frustration through every powerful stroke. Each volley and smash seemed to resonate with his internal conflict, the intensity of the game mirroring the brewing annoyance inside of him.

No matter how hard he hit the ball, or how hard he worked his body in the game, the burning sensation in his chest never faded.

-

You were in the midst of pulling dinner out of the oven—roasted chicken with sliced baby potatoes—when you heard the front door of your apartment creak open, its familiar sound echoing through the quiet kitchen. The gentle groan of the hinges punctuated the otherwise peaceful atmosphere, hinting at someone entering. Your ears perked up at the sound, but you weren’t alarmed. A quick glance towards the door confirmed your suspicion: Charles was the only other person with a key to your apartment. 

The rich aromas of rosemary and garlic filled the apartment, their savory scents weaving through the air. Charles inhaled deeply, unable to suppress a soft, appreciative groan at the smell. 

You carefully set the dish atop the oven, the comforting warmth of the meal still radiating from it. With a swift nudge of your hip, you close the oven door, the familiar click of the latch echoing softly. Your attire is simple and cozy—a very large sweatshirt that swallows you in its oversized embrace. Charles can’t help but smile at you, the burning in his chest fading just slightly.

Charles casually drops his phone, wallet, and keys onto the edge of the countertop nearest the kitchen archway. A tired but genuine smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he approaches you. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his chest offering comforting solidity. He’s dressed in a grey pair of sweatpants and a navy t-shirt, his hair still slightly damp from a recent shower. The contrast between his casual, relaxed appearance made your insides feel like goo. 

You can’t help but notice a subtle shift in Charles, his demeanor more reserved than usual. Despite his warm smile and appreciative comments about dinner, and the occasional small talk, there’s an unmistakable quietness about him. His words come more infrequently, and when he does speak his responses are rather brief, lacking the usual depth and enthusiasm. The contrast between his silent moments and typically engaging nature leaves you lingering with a sense of concern as you bury your body under a heap of blankets on the plush couch.

Charles settles beside you on the couch, his feet propped up comfortably on the coffee table. The soft glow of the TV, which is playing a random movie neither of you are really paying attention to, casts a gentle light across the room. The flickering screen illuminates his features in a warm, calming way.

“Il y a quelque chose qui ne va pas?” Is something wrong?

His head immediately turns to you, an unmistakable glint in his eyes. “Hm?” He plays it off, not really sure if he’s ready to have this conversation just yet.

“What’s wrong?” You say again, turning your body to face him now. “You’ve been so quiet tonight.”

He gazes at you for a few moments, his eyes distant and contemplative, as if he’s lost in a deep, lingering thought. The silence between you two stretches, its weight almost palpable, and you can’t help but feel a growing sense of unease.

“You can tell-“ You don’t even get to finish your sentence.

In the blink of an eye, his hands move to the back of your head with sudden, determined force. He pulls you towards him, and before you can fully grasp what’s happening, his lips crash against yours in a fierce, unexpected kiss.

You react almost instinctively, your fingers reaching out and gripping his shoulders not to push him away, but to draw him closer. The urgency and depth of his kiss awakens a surge of emotion, and you pull him towards you, deepening the connection between you. Your hips immediately begin rolling into him, almost an involuntary move.

It takes an even shorter amount of time for his tongue to slip into your mouth, his hands trailing to the back of your knee, grasping it and slipping it over his lap, until you’re fully seated on his lap.

He doesn’t break the kiss. No, for a few minutes it’s just all tongue and teeth clashing. Not even gentle. If he could swallow you whole, he would.

It’s not until you pull back, your lips tingling and swollen, and your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, that you finally meet his gaze. His once vibrant green eyes are now completely darkened, their usual brilliance replaced by an intense, smoldering depth that reflects the fervor of the moment.

He’s insanely hard as you rut against him, your hips involuntarily slowly rolling against him like you have no control of your body.

“That’s it, fuck,” He groans, guiding your hips to grind against him harder. A measly pair of sleep shorts and sweatpants layered between you both. “Such a good girl, yeah?”

Soft whimpers escape your lips, your breath hot on his ear as drop your head forward into the crevice of his neck.

You’re uncertain about what this means for the two of you, but you know you can’t stop. The room is thick with tension, the air charged with unspoken words and electric anticipation. The burning sensation in your stomach intensifies, a fiery knot of emotions. Meanwhile, Charles feels as if his heart might burst from his chest, its rapid beats echoing in the depth of his feelings and raw intensity of the moment.

Your cheeks are scarlet red, and it isn’t until your orgasm approaches that your hips are moving at a feverish pace. No longer able to even fully kiss him as your mouth widens and soft high- pitched moans escape against his own mouth. And he swallows every moan you give him. 

He gives you no time to recover before his large fingers are sprawled across your neck, shoving you down to the couch onto your back and slipping your sleep shorts off. The cool air of your apartment is a stark contrast to your soaked core.

“Please,” You beg, Charles fingers still pressed into the soft skin of your neck, no doubt leaving little marks. 

For a moment, Charles takes in the sight before him. His cock twitches against the band of his sweatpants, he’s so hard that it’s almost painful. 

“What do you need?”

“Charlie please, I really need you to fuck me.” You plead again, breaking Charles out of whatever trance he was in. 

It’s hurried. He reaches behind his head with one hand, grasping a fist full of fabric of his navy t-shirt before pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. A rush of not so smooth moments as he shoves his sweatpants and boxers down. They aren’t even completely off, resting just below his knees because he’s in too much of a hurry to finally be inside of you.

He leans his full weight into you, slipping his cock into you slowly. The burning sensation feels too good that you can’t help but bite your lips to refrain from moaning too loudly.

It’s not until he’s fully bottomed out inside of you that he tilts his head forward with a brutal moan, the chords in his neck prominent as your walls clench tightly around him.

“Fuck,” He mutters, not moving his hips yet. “You’re a tight little thing, aren’t you?”

You were shaking at this point. At how much he filled you. His cock was pressed up deliciously against your walls. He could feel your walls trembling against him, and he hadn’t even moved yet.

He rests with both arms at the sides of your head now, one more rested on his elbow while the other was locked straight as he begins rolling his hips into her, not even full strokes yet as he lets your body adjust to him.

Your eyes sparkle up at him with a smile tugged on your lips, and he swears his heart might beat out of his chest.

It’s not until his hand slips under the back of your knee again, guiding it up until its pressed to your chest that he picks up the pace of his hips. His fingers grip your leg tightly, his full body weight leaning into the pressure of his grip on your leg.

You couldn’t handle the way he was staring at you. A smirk toyed on his lips. 

For a flash of a moment, the image of you and Lando flickers into his mind. Driving him crazy.

He was ruthless. Fucking you deep and hard into the cushions of the couch. Your fingers gripped his arms, digging your nails into the skin of his biceps.

Your pussy flutters around his cock. “Do that again,” He groans. So you do. “Fuck, just like that.”

You’re not sure how it was possible, but he begins to pump his length into you at a deeper and more intense angle.

His breaths were jagged in heavy in your ear as he drops down, his chest now pressed to yours. “Open up, baby.” His voice is hushed, deep breaths in between each word like he’s struggling.

You don’t even need to ask, opening your mouth he lets the spit of his mouth fall into yours in a stringy mess. “Oh, God.” You groan at the sensation of his spit in your mouth.

It only takes a few more minutes before you’re shoving your head deep into the cushions, your head lolled back in pure pleasure as your orgasm crashes into you, throbbing and shaking around his cock. You cried out shamelessly, unable to stop your body from shaking.

“Fill me up, please” You beg. “Need you inside of me.”

Charles can feel his resolve slipping. “Yeah?”

You nod feverishly as Charles slows the pace of his hips, still hitting in harsh and calculated strokes. He came with a loud groan, his face pressed into the crevice of your neck as he loses all senses of strength and collapses on top of you.

For a few moments, you just lay there with him on top of you, paying attention to the heavy even breaths you both share. Eventually, you both move in silence. Charles making sure to clean you up with the care and concern he always has for you. Your heart lurches in your chest as he removes the wet cloth from you, all cleaned up now.

“Are you okay?” You ask with slight concern. “That was-“

He cuts you off. “Did you really fuck Lando?”

His words have you caught completely off guard, your cheeks reddening almost instantly. “Where did you hear that?” You feel the panic form in your throat.

“Where did I hear that?” He repeats, his tone sharp. “That’s all you have to say?”

“No,” you say, your fingers gently playing with the delicate baby hairs at the nape of Charles’s neck. “I mean, yes.” You take a deep breath and come clean. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He scoffs slightly, his hands finding a comfortable grip on the flesh of your hips, the hem of your sweatshirt bunched around them.

“God, you really don’t know do you?” He adds, his head falling back against the couch cushions. A deep breath escaping his chest as he shuts his eyes momentarily, his frustration and weariness palpable.

“Know what?” You ask, feeling your heartbeat quicken. A swarm of nerves knots in your stomach as his fingers grip and release your hips in a rhythmic, anxious pattern. 

“That I love you.” He lifts his head, locking his gaze with yours, his eyes intense and sincere as he enunciates each word with a deliberate clarity. “That I’m in love with you.” The weight of the confession hangs in the air, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“Charlie,” You whisper, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotion. You lean forward, your body naturally collapsing into his chest as his arms slide up your back, enveloping you in a sweet embrace. His hold tightens, drawing you closer, and you nestle against him, the warmth and solidity of his presence providing a comforting anchor. 

“You’re mine,” He says, as if he’s talking to himself. Reminding himself. “You’ve always been mine.”

“My Charlie,” You smile softly. “I love you too.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

arcade - October 17th - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 320

"Do you see anything?" Regulus whispered, gazing into his binoculars, ignoring the feeling of ridiculousness that was creeping over him.

"No," James whispered back, also trying his best to stare into binoculars, despite the way his glasses pressed into the bridge of his nose.

They were both silent for a moment, looking through the small eyepieces.

"Why are we whispering?" James whispered after a moment, turning to his husband.

Regulus sighed, looking over to James, who had looked away from the arcade they were parked in front of. "I don't know! Because he might sense our presence from here?"

"He is smart," James nodded, grinning. "He got that from you."

Regulus snorted, rolling his eyes. "You know he's not biologically mine, right?"

But James just laughed. "And yet sometimes he acts like your moody little clone."

Flipping James off, Regulus looked back to the building. "I can't find him. But I think-"

At that moment, he stopped talking, as both men caught sight of their son in one of the windows.

Their son and Draco Malfoy, whom he'd sworn he was not going to see.

"I knew it!" James hissed, slamming the binoculars back to his face. "That little shit lied right to our faces!" But he was grinning as he said it, because of course his son was capable of such mischief.

"James!" Regulus admonished, but he was staring and smiling, too. After a moment, he sighed. "What do we do? We don't want him to know we followed him."

But, remembering his own teenage years sneaking around with a boy he was afraid nobody would approve of, James turned to his husband and took his hand. "Let's just go easy on him, yeah? Maybe...maybe Draco's not like his family, you know?"

And Regulus smiled softly, eyeing their intertwined fingers. "Hm...like father like son, eh?"

"Hmmm. Now let's get home before he sneaks back and finds out we're gone."

[lizzieheartsfanclub]

The most effective thing about Ever After High is that every student has their own personal struggle that adds another element to just how life-ruining the destiny system is.

Apple is so terrified of what will happen to her if she doesn’t follow her destiny, that she is willing to compromise everyone else’s happiness to make sure it happens. This disregard for other people is only encouraged by the influential adults in her life.

Ashlynn has to be a servant to an abusive family and live knowing that the ultimate end to her supposedly happy ending is dying to set the stage for her daughters traumatic backstory, starting the whole cycle over again with no chance for any of them to escape.

Blondie feels so pressured to fit in to a deeply classist/monarchist society and ashamed of her parentage that she constantly presents a fake version of herself to everyone she knows, even her best friends.

Briar has to spend her whole life waiting for the moment her destiny comes and she falls asleep for a century. She knows that when she’s woken up, she will be forced to marry a boy dozens of years younger than her who she’s never met and live knowing that everyone she ever loved is dead and gone, the very things that she watched cause her mother’s emotional breakdown.

Cedar’s father was so afraid of watching her repeat his mistakes that he overcorrected, making it impossible for her to ever learn lessons for herself. She is also forced to share incredibly personal details with anyone who asks her questions, and can’t be trusted by her friends with any of their secrets, and it’s all because of her father’s past trauma.

Cerise has to hide who she truly is and never gets to see her family together and happy despite the fact that her parents have potentially the most healthy and mutually beneficial marriage in the whole franchise.

Daring was groomed from birth for a destiny that ends up not actually being his at all, leaving him aimless, feeling as though he has no purpose and has wasted his entire life.

Darling is forbidden by patriarchy and destiny to become a knight, the only thing she really wants, and at which she would be better than both of her brothers. She has to hide who she is and what she loves from everyone she knows

Dexter lived his whole life never knowing what his destiny would be but also knowing that whatever it was he’d have to commit to it forever the moment he discovered it at Legacy Day.

Duchess has spent her whole life knowing that the story she’s commited to living out ends in tragedy for her, and then had to watch the very people she’s been jealous of for years because of their seemingly happy endings give up those endings, while Duchess, loyal and rule following Duchess, is still stuck with her tragedy.

Faybelle tries so hard to commit to what she sees at her destiny that she’s never had a real friend in her life. Even still, no one recognizes her for all that effort and all she’s given up to be a suitable villain. Everyone is more afraid of Raven, who doesn’t even want to be evil.

Hunter has to constantly go against his moral compass to fulfill his destined role as a Huntsman and to try and make his father proud of him.

Kitty has been taught over and over again to value her Mother’s approval over all else, even at the expense of her friends. Her destiny is to create mischief, but how much more mischief can a dissolving world take before it’s too much?

Lizzie finds it almost impossible to express love or care for anyone else due to her mothers excessive conditioning that’s nearly akin to brainwashing. The saddest thing might be that her mother is actually, in her own way, trying her best to prepare Lizzie for a world that will only ever see her one way—as a villain. Now she lives in Ever After, princess to a kingdom that might not even exist for much longer, having given up everything for a destiny that may soon be impossible.

Maddie is a refugee forced from her home into a world she barely understands at a tender age. But she cannot express any angst or negative feelings about this circumstance, because to do so would go against her character. She lives in a world obsessed with destiny and stories while not even knowing if she’ll ever be able to return home and live out her story.

Raven is judged by almost everyone around her for her mothers crimes, many of which were required of her by destiny in the first place. She is nearly forced to commit to becoming a tyrannical megalomaniac (and almost falls into it herself, several times) who would be sentenced to lifelong punishment and torture for committing acts that weren’t even her idea in the first place, and the one punishing her would have been the very girl who begged so often for her to stop being so difficult and just follow her destiny.

[dissapointu]

Arcane characters walking in on you changing

Jinx

You’re in the middle of pulling on your shirt when you hear the unmistakable sound of the door creaking open.

“Oops, didn’t knock!” Jinx’s voice rings out in a tone that’s almost too casual, a wicked grin on her face as she steps into the room, eyes flicking to your figure before immediately turning away.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to, uh, invade your privacy…” She’s clearly trying to be respectful, but the mischief in her tone is hard to ignore.

You raise an eyebrow, and before you can say anything, Jinx is already giggling. “Though, not gonna lie, you look awesome. Totally wasn’t expecting that,” she says, turning her face to avoid looking back, though you can see her trying to sneak a peek from the corner of her eye.

Vi

Vi knocks twice, but the sound of your muttered frustration must’ve made her think it was an invitation.

She enters and freezes mid-step as her eyes land on you, mid-change. You both lock eyes, and for a second, she stands there awkwardly, her usual confidence faltering.

“Oh, uh, my bad!” She clears her throat, stepping back, but her eyes stay on you for just a moment longer than necessary. “Next time, I’ll knock twice. Promise.”

You can’t help but chuckle at how flustered she looks. Vi rubs the back of her neck, muttering, “You know, I’m definitely not complaining,” before she’s quickly out the door, cheeks flushed.

Sevika

The door swings open, and you don’t have time to react before Sevika is standing there, taking in the sight of you mid-change. Her expression doesn’t shift much—she’s too composed for that—but her eyes flicker briefly over your form.

“Well, you’re quick to get out of that, huh?” she comments dryly, arms crossed over her chest. There’s a small glimmer of approval in her gaze, though she hides it well.

You can’t help but laugh, and she smirks in response. “I’ll let you finish,” she says, her tone nonchalant, though you can tell she’s respecting your space, already stepping back out of the room.

“Next time, lock the door,” she adds with a wink.

Silco

You’re reaching for a shirt when the sound of footsteps reaches your ears, followed by a slow, deliberate knock. But before you can even call out a warning, the door creaks open.

“I thought you’d be dressed by now,” Silco murmurs with a raise of his brow, his eyes cool as always, though his expression softens just a little as he catches sight of you. He doesn’t flinch or show embarrassment—his calm demeanor is unwavering.

For a moment, you just stand there, both of you caught in a moment of uncomfortable silence. “I can leave, if you’d like,” he offers, voice smooth as silk, though there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

You quickly grab something to throw on, feeling the heat in your cheeks. “You should knock next time,” you mutter.

He smirks, his lips curling at the corners. “I will, but you know I’m not bothered by it.”

Vander

The door gently opens, and you’re halfway through changing when you hear his voice.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” Vander stands in the doorway, his warm, concerned eyes scanning you before looking away. He’s clearly embarrassed, stepping back a few paces.

You feel the heat rise to your face as you hurriedly finish putting on your shirt, and he clears his throat, clearly giving you space.

“I’ll just be out here… waiting. Take your time.” His voice is a comforting rumble, and you can hear the hint of concern in his tone, but he respects your privacy.

“I’ll lock the door next time,” you mutter, embarrassed but comforted by his calm demeanor.

Ekko

Ekko’s voice calls through the door, “You decent?” But before you can respond, he opens it just a crack, and then his eyes widen as he sees you mid-change.

“Oh! Uh… my bad!” He quickly shuts the door again, but not without a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “I wasn’t expecting that! You good?”

You hear him shuffling nervously on the other side, and you can’t help but chuckle. “You really should knock first, you know.”

“I know, I know,” he says, his voice muffled through the door, “I swear I’m trying to be a gentleman!”

Jayce

Jayce knocks twice before entering, but the sound of your shirt rustling catches his attention. He steps in and freezes, his eyes wide as they land on you.

“Oh, sorry! I—” His voice cracks a little, and he quickly turns to face the door, though his ears are red. “I should’ve waited for a response.”

You smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s fine, Jayce. You didn’t know.”

He takes a deep breath, still facing away. “Next time, I’ll wait. Promise.”

“Okay,” you respond, and there’s an awkward pause before you hear him mumble, “But you look really… nice.”

Victor

Victor knocks lightly, his usual calmness in place, but when he enters and finds you mid-change, his eyes widen and his face flushes, but he doesn’t avert his gaze immediately.

“Apologies,” he mutters, stepping back quickly. His hands go to his face in embarrassment. “I wasn’t aware you were—”

You pull your shirt down and quickly try to cover up, your cheeks flushed. “It’s fine, Victor. Just, maybe knock louder next time?”

“Of course, yes,” he stammers, clearly flustered, though you can hear him fighting a smile. “I’ll… I’ll take care to be more considerate.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn knocks, but when she hears no response, she opens the door just slightly to see if you’re okay. The sight of you changing immediately has her halting in her tracks, and she looks up, clearly embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims, her hands raised in a half-apologetic gesture, but she doesn’t back away immediately. “I should’ve waited for you to answer.”

You laugh softly, trying to ease her nerves. “It’s okay, Caitlyn. I wasn’t expecting you to just walk in.”

“I’ll be more careful next time,” she says, her face a deep shade of red, before she adds with a grin, “Though you do look incredible, I’ll admit that.”

[greengoblinswifey]

first, i’m a big fan of your work! i’d like to make a request for the fratboy!nicholas series. i was listening to rude boy by rihanna just now and that inspired me to think about nicholas finally channeling his inner dom. i need HIM! i’m talking praise and degrading, but his cute ass would still ask for consent of course and reader is hyping him up.

Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings— SMUT. dom!nicholas, fingering, oral, face fucking, choking, consent checks, unprotected sex, rough sex, degrading kink, praise kink, hair pulling, ass slapping, face slapping(with dick), creampie, overstimulation, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— thank you and i love that song omg🫶🏽requests are still open and i’ll answer all as soon as i can, it’s been a rough few days with the whole election and kamala’s unfortunate loss. this is a bit long but enjoy!

Nicholas arrived at your dorm that night with a new energy, his usual relaxed demeanor replaced by something more intense, more purposeful. He didn’t bother with the small talk or the sweet smile he usually gave when he saw you. Instead, he stepped in and closed the door behind him, eyes locked on you with a focused determination you hadn’t quite seen before.

“Tonight’s different,” he said, voice a bit lower than usual as he took a step closer. “I- I’ve been thinking. About us. About trying things, uh, differently.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised but intrigued. “Oh, really? What brought this on?”

He chuckled, a bit of his usual lighthearted self breaking through. “I love when you take the lead but I decided I’d like to see what it’s like for me to take the lead, for both of us. I wanna be dominant, so I can make you feel as good as you make me.”

Moving closer, he reached for your hand, his grip firmer than usual. “If it’s something you’d be into, of course,” he added. His intent was clear, he wanted to create an experience for both of you, one where he could be the one guiding things, setting the pace.

You gave a small nod, lost for words, both surprised and excited by this new side of him. “Alright, Nicholas. Tonight, ima let you do your thing, show me what you’ve got.”

He smirked, confidence growing as he took in your approval. “Oh, I plan to, tonight I’m gonna give it to you harder,” he said, the playfulness still there but mingling with something deeper. He gently brushed his hand along your arm, lingering, studying the way you reacted to each of his movements. His touch, though familiar, held a new sense of authority, as if he’d spent time thinking this through and knew exactly what he wanted.

“You know,” he said softly, eyes meeting yours, “I think I’ve always been drawn to letting you take control. But I want this to be different, for both of us. I want to explore it with you, because you’re the first person I’ve trusted with this part of me.”

He pressed his body close, his hand moving up to rest firmly around your neck as you sat on the bed looking up at him, the action sending a spark through you.

“You like this?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes searching yours. You nodded, lips parting in anticipation, but he only gave you a soft smile, raising an eyebrow. “I need to hear you say it, so I know you’re 100% comfortable. Are you okay with this?”

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice just as steady as his. “I’m okay with it. I’m more than okay.”

He smiled, a glint of mischief lighting his expression. “Good girl,” he replied, “because tonight, I don’t plan to hold back.” His hand lingered at your neck as he leaned in closer. “But we need a safe word. I want you to know we can stop at any time.”

You thought for a moment, grinning as an idea came to mind. “Banana. You know I hate bananas,” you said with a smirk.

He chuckled, his grip easing as his thumb brushed lightly over your skin. “Alright pretty girl, banana it is.”

His intensity ignited something deeper in you. This was a side of him you’d never seen, but it made you crave him even more. In that moment, you realized that this shift in him wasn’t just about trying on a new role, it was a way for him to show how much he valued and trusted you, a way for you both to explore something new together in a safe environment.

Your eyes fluttered shut as his thumb gently ran across your lower lip. “Open,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. You obeyed, letting his thumb slip past your lips, your gaze meeting his as you sucked on it. There was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched, a mix of curiosity and control.

“Good girl,” he praised, though there was a hint of a smirk that made his words feel more teasing than sweet. “I knew you'd be an obedient slut for me.” His fingers followed, and you could feel the arousal between you both growing as you took his fingers in your throat, this new dynamic thrilling you in ways you hadn’t expected.

He slipped off his shirt and then his pants, revealing the toned muscles underneath and his hard cock swinging. You felt your heart race as he looked down at you, his expression filled with lust and a look in his eyes as if he wanted to devour you.

“Your turn,” he said, a trace of a smile on his face. “Fucking strip.”

You followed his instruction, stripping down piece by piece. When you got to your underwear, he reached forward, and with a quick, decisive motion, tore it off. “I’ll buy you ten more,” he promised with a wink, his voice filled with an excitement that made you grin.

He tossed your torn underwear onto the bed with a grin. Gently, he used his hard cock to trace along your cheek, spreading his pre cum all over your face as his onyx eyes met yours.

“Stick that tongue out,” he murmured, his voice low and you felt your pulse quicken. You followed his request, sticking your tongue out and he used his cock to slap on your tongue, the taste of his pre cum making you moan.

“You’re doing great baby,” he murmured. As you met his eyes again, you could see how much he was enjoying this newfound confidence, his smile widening as you took him into your throat.

“I’m gonna treat you like a slut yeah? Gonna hold on to your pretty curls and fuck your throat, remember your safe word if you want me to stop at any time or just tap my thigh twice,” he said, taking himself out of your mouth and rubbing it all over your lips.

His eyes searched yours for any reluctance or fear, only to find pure admiration and lust. Smirking, he held on to your curls, and shoved his cock into the back of your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on not gagging as his hips snapped forward.

“I like the way you pull my hair,” you muttered around his cock.

“Fuck yeah, take it baby, take my fucking dick down that throat,” he moaned, his head falling back.

He pulled out, looking down at you with his face contorted in pleasure as he used his dick to drag across your face and slap your cheeks.

“You like that sweetheart? Is that okay?” he asked and you nodded frantically, wanting him back in your mouth.

Sensing your desperation, he began fucking your throat again, this time his pace never faltered as he began chasing his orgasm. You swirled your tongue over his cock as much as you could, he made your mouth feel so full, just the way you liked it.

“That’s my good girl, my good fucking slut just taking my cock in her mouth, that’s all you’re good for isn’t it?” he chuckled, darkly.

You hummed around him sending jolts of pleasure throughout his body. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum down your throat and all over that beautiful face, get ready slut, stick that tongue out for me again.”

With a deep moan, turning you on even more, his load spurted on your tongue. He began stroking his cock vigorously, making sure every drop was either in your mouth or all over your face.

“That’s my girl,” he moaned, “you look even prettier with my cum all over your face. My fucking slut. Make sure you swallow it all.”

After his high subsided, he pulled you into a close embrace. “That was more than I could’ve hoped for baby, are you okay? Was that okay?” he asked warmth in his tone that left you feeling closer than ever.

“It was more than okay, stop worrying,” you smiled, playfully nudging him, “I like when you take control.”

He smirked and his demeanor immediately shifted again. Nicholas pushed you on the bed, the shy virgin since forgotten.

“Spread those fucking legs,” he demanded. You complied, spreading your legs and revealing your pussy glistening.

“You’re soaked baby, does me being in control turn you on? You like when I take the lead?”

You nodded, dipping your fingers between your thighs trying to subdue the throbbing but he grabbed them before you could. “That’s my fucking job and I’m the only one allowed to touch this pussy unless I instruct otherwise, got it?”

“Yes sir.” You throbbed even more at his firm words and he swore his cock twitched hearing you refer to him as ‘sir’.

“My slut is learning, good girl.”

He knelt down, his mouth immediately engulfing your pussy without warning and you cried out.

“Nicholas,” you moaned, your hands instinctively going to his hair as you squirmed under his touch.

“Mm— stop fucking squirming and take it,” he murmured in between licks.

You struggled to contain your moans as his tongue focused on your clit and giving you no room to adjust, he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them and immediately finding your g spot.

“Fuck, you taste amazing, baby,” he muttered, his licks now becoming more precise as you clenched around his fingers.

“Please don’t stop, please, keep going, just like that,” you moaned, your back arching from the bed as you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Oh I’m not fucking stopping until you squirt for me baby, so go ahead, squirt on my tongue,” he commanded.

As soon as the words left his lips, your legs clamped around his head but he forced them back open, his slurping, sucking and fingering relentless and you squirted all over his fingers and in his mouth, still sucking everything that came out of you.

“What a good little slut, that’s my good girl, keep gushing on my tongue baby, you taste amazing.” He continued fingering you and flicking your clit through your orgasm, getting as much as he could out of you. You tried to squirm away, the pleasure was becoming too euphoric but he continued until there was nothing left in you.

“Give me a kiss, you did so good for me baby,” he said, voice thick with lust. You leaned up and kissed him, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his body between your legs.

“Eager now are we? Calm down sweetheart, you’ll get this dick, I know you want it,” he smirked.

“I absolutely love this side of you,” you beamed, giving him another kiss on his wet lips.

Before you could say anything else, you gasped as his cock filled you, inch by inch.

“Fuck Nick, baby, you feel so good,” you whimpered.

“I know baby, I know, just lay there and take this cock, I’m gonna fuck you hard.”

Your gasps filled the room as Nicholas began pounding mercilessly into you. Somehow, he managed to fit every inch inside you each time he bottomed out and slammed back in. Your nails dug into his back as he kept bruising your cervix. His pelvis snapping against your clit sent shockwaves through you and you could feel the impending orgasm.

“Scream for me baby, I wanna hear you scream like a whore from how good my cock makes you feel.”

His request was granted as he pushed your legs behind your head, pounding into you deeper with his hand around your neck.

“You look so fucking sexy spread open for me like this, I fucking love this pussy,” he moaned, his grip tightening just enough to have your head spinning.

You closed your eyes, clenching tightly around him and getting lost in the pleasure.

“Hey, open those fucking eyes, I want you to look at me when you’re cumming on this cock,” he murmured.

Opening your eyes, your jaw fell open with sweet moans leaving it as you came on his cock. Your body quivered but he kept going, determined to take everything out of you.

“Good girl, good fucking girl, I know it feels good baby, I know.”

He let go of your throat and you wrapped your arms and legs around him, pulling him close.

“Oh it’s not time for cuddles yet sweetheart, I wanna make sure this pussy remembers the fucking shape of my cock,” he said, his voice low but rough.

You were dripping for this man. He was so sexy dominating you.

He swiftly flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your ass up to him. “Arch that back for me, just the way you know I like it, slut.”

You arched your back and he spread your arousal all over your hole with his fingers making you shiver. You loved the way he touched you there, the way he showed you what he had.

He slapped your ass, admiring how sexy you looked with your ass in the air for me. “All for me, all mine.”

He rubbed the bulbous, leaking tip up and down your folds before slowly slipping inside you.

You winced at the intrusion, his cock slowly filling you. “Hey sweetheart, is everything? You remember your safe word right,” he asked, his demeanor changing and his cock pausing inside you.

“I-it’s okay, give it to me, baby,” you begged.

He leaned down and kissed your shoulder before the switch flipped again. He firmly gripped your waist before thrusting the entire length of his cock into your tight pussy. You moaned in unison, feeling each other fully and hearing the sound of your pussy squelching.

“Hear that baby? You get turned this on from being fucked like a slut?” he laughed, slapping your ass as he pounded into you from behind.

You moaned from the sting of the slap, your pussy clamping around him.

“Wow, you’re such a cock slut, my cock slut, take it.”

Muttering incoherent words, you shivered under his touch, all you could think about was how good it felt to have his dick just constantly pounding into you.

“Do you like it?” you managed to croak it, “you like fucking me like this?”

“You know I do,” he grinned, slapping your ass before grabbing your curls and pulling you back to his chest, “now rub that clit for me.”

You did as you were told, your back arching off his body as he held your hair, pulling your head back and sucking on the sweet spot on your neck. “Cum for me baby, be a good fucking cock slut and let go.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed and you squirted on his cock, soaking him and the sheets below you.

“I never get tired of this gushing pussy,” he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m gonna keep fucking you and I want you to cum one more time for me.”

You whimpered in response, your body weak, not sure if you could cum anymore.

“I know a slut like you can cum one more time, take it, make me proud.”

His hand moved to around your neck, squeezing gently as he pounded into you.

“Take it, take it, take it, take this dick,” he moaned, his pelvis slapping against your ass.

“Mm- mhmm,” you moaned, willing this side of him on as you tried your best to take whatever he gave you.

“Your pussy is gonna have my cock forever engrained inside of it,” he chuckled, his pace now faltering.

“C- cum for baby, I know you have it in you, be my good girl, my pretty fucking girl and cum for me,” he said, breath shaky.

A cry left your lips as the fountain erupted from your pussy for the last time.

“M’ so proud of you baby, now take my cum deep inside your slutty fucking pussy.”

You both moaned as he pumped his load inside you, your pussy tightening around his thick cock that stretched your walls as he filled you to the brim.

“Good girl, that’s it sweetheart.” He thrusted slowly, making sure every drop was deep inside you before pulling out.

You both fell on the bed and he quickly pulled you close, turning to face you as he cupped your cheeks in his hands.

“Are you okay my love? Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked, a worried look in his eyes as he saw your tear stained face.

“I’m okay baby and I did, so so much,” you smiled.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, wiping away the cum and tears from your face.

“You didn’t Nick, it was perfect, I love this side of you, thank you for telling me you wanted this.”

After the intense moments you’d shared, Nicholas softened, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you. He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your curls in soothing, slow strokes. You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his touch calming you, grounding you.

He whispered, “You did amazing,” his voice soft and filled with affection, his eyes still holding that glint of admiration. He continued to hold you for a moment longer, his thumb tracing gentle patterns along your shoulder.

After a while, he shifted, carefully slipping out of bed. “Stay right here,” he murmured, giving you a reassuring smile as he found a warm cloth and returned to your side. With tender care, he helped clean you up, his touch gentle, a quiet attentiveness in every movement. When he was done, he wrapped you back up in the covers and climbed back in beside you, pulling you close once more.

Nestled against him, you felt a mix of peace and contentment, the atmosphere in your dorm was now replaced by a calm that only he seemed able to bring. His fingers traced soft lines on your arm as he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

[syluslnd]

hello. may I request for sylus who gets amused or smth when MC gets why when stripping? Whether it be removing clothes, getting naked, wearing a bikini, or stripping down in sports bra and shorts or something? MC is just shy and gets flustered easily. There is something so deep and intriguing about Sylus's gaze that it's hard to explain ><

sylus reaction to you stripping

The room was warm,the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the walls. You stood near the edge of the bed, fingers nervously toying with the hem of your shirt. Sylus was sitting across from you, his legs spread lazily, his arms folded, watching you with an intense, unblinking gaze.

"Come on, sweetie" he said, his voice smooth but edged with amusement. "You don't need to go hide in the bathroom every time. Just change here." His eyes lingered on you, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

Your breath hitched. Normally, you would have quickly darted into the bathroom, closing the door behind you before peeling off your clothes in private. But Sylus had insisted tonight. He'd said it so casually, like it was no big deal at all. Yet, under his piercing gaze, your skin felt hot, and your heart raced, pounding in your chest.

"I-I don't know..." you stammered, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if they could shield you from his gaze.

His smirk grew as he leaned back against the headboard, eyes never leaving yours.

"Oh, come on, kitten. It's just me. What are you so nervous about?"

You swallowed hard, cheeks burning. The way he said it-so casual, yet with that teasing undertone-made your stomach twist. You knew he was doing this on purpose, pushing you just enough to make you squirm and there was no escaping it.

But he always had a way of making you feel so exposed, especially in moments like this.

He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. "What's the matter?" he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

"Shy?"

You let out a soft huff, biting your lip as your fingers tightened their grip on your shirt. "I just... I usually change in the bathroom..."

Sylus raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a broader smile. "Yeah, l've noticed. But we both know there's no need for that, right?" His voice dropped, becoming softer but still carrying that unmistakable edge of teasing.

"You're beautiful, sweetie. No need to hide from me."

The compliment only made you more flustered. You felt the heat creeping up your neck, your entire body tingling with embarrassment. He was being so casual about it, while you felt like you were standing on display.

"Are you going to just stand there all night?" he asked, his tone laced with impatience but it was the kind of impatience that was meant to make you squirm. "Come on, kitten. I'm waiting."

You hesitated for another moment, glancing at him nervously. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering, his lips still curled into that smirk that made your knees weak. Slowly, with trembling hands you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it just a little, feeling the air against your stomach. You paused again, glancing at him and the look in his eyes-sharp, focused, almost predatory-made you even more self-conscious.

"Slow, aren't we?" he teased, his voice dropping an octave. "What's wrong? Can't do it in front of me?"

Your heart was racing now and it felt like every second stretched on forever. You tried to ignore how his words made your stomach flutter, tried to focus on just getting it over with. But the longer he stared, the harder it became to move.

With a shaky breath, you finally pulled the shirt up and over your head, your arms immediately crossing over your chest the moment the fabric was gone. You glanced at him, hoping for some sign of approval but all you found was that same teasing grin.

"There you go" Sylus murmured, his eyes now roaming over your bare skin, taking in every little detail. His gaze was so intense, like he was savoring every inch of you. "But why are you hiding?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with that teasing edge. "It's just me, sweetie. I've seen it all before."

You wanted to melt into the floor. The heat in your cheeks only intensified as his gaze moved back up to your face, catching your nervous eyes with his. "Y-You make it sound so... so easy," you muttered, trying to cover yourself as best you could, feeling entirely too vulnerable under his scrutiny.

He chuckled, low and deep, leaning forward slightly. "It is easy. For me, at least. But for you?" He let the question hang in the air, raising an eyebrow. "You're acting like it's your first time all over again."

Your lips parted but no words came out. His teasing tone sent your mind spinning and you didn't know how to respond. He knew exactly what he was doing-playing with your nerves, watching you squirm under his gaze.

Finally, you reached down for the waistband of your jeans, fingers trembling as you fumbled with the button. You were hyper-aware of his eyes on you, every little movement feeling exaggerated under the weight of his attention.

Sylus's eyes darkened as he watched you his smirk growing as he saw your hands shaking. "A little nervous, are we?" he asked, his voice dropping even lower. He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees, now even closer. "You know, you don't have to rush. I'm enjoying this."

You froze, the button of your jeans finally undone but your hands now trembling too much to move any further. His words made your stomach twist, the way he so casually admitted to watching you, relishing in your hesitation. "S-Sylus..." you stammered, unsure of what to say, feeling utterly exposed.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing.

"What's wrong, kitten? Don't tell me you're embarrassed. You know I love watching you get all shy." His voice was almost a purr now, smooth and teasing, designed to make you blush even harder.

Your breath came in shallow bursts as you finally pushed your jeans down over your hips, the fabric sliding down your legs. You quickly stepped out of them, standing there in just your underwear, your entire body buzzing with embarrassment. You crossed your arms over your chest again, looking anywhere but at him.

But Sylus wasn't about to let you escape so easily.

He stood up, closing the distance between you in a few slow, deliberate steps. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he loomed over you, his eyes still locked on yours with that same intense gaze. His hand reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down your arm.

"See?" he murmured, his voice soft and dangerously close. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up at him, your breath shaky. "Y-You were watching me the whole time.."

His lips curled into a slow, teasing grin. "Of course I was." His hand traced lightly along your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

"and you were adorable the whole time, sweetie. So shy, so flustered... You're too cute for your own good."

You tried to look away but his fingers gently tilted your chin back up, forcing you to meet his gaze again. "No hiding” he said softly, his voice carrying that same teasing tone. "I want to see every bit of that embarrassment."

Your knees felt weak under his gaze and the way he stood so close, his hand still brushing over your skin, only made the tension between you even more unbearable.

You could feel his breath against your lips, the heat of his body pressing into yours and it was overwhelming.

"Relax, kitten" he murmured, his voice low and sultry as his fingers traced the curve of your jaw. "You're beautiful. There's no need to be shy." His lips hovered just above yours, close enough to make your heart race but he didn't close the distance-he waited, teasing you, letting the tension between you build.

Your breath hitched, your body tingling with the sensual tension between you. The teasing, the way he watched you with that piercing gaze, made every second feel electric. You were hyper-aware of his presence of every inch of his skin that brushed against yours.

"Look at you, trembling for me” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "You really are too cute."

You couldn't help but let out a soft, breathless whimper, the heat between you now almost unbearable. But Sylus just smirked his lips barely brushing yours as he whispered, "Don't worry, sweetie. I'm not done teasing you yet."

[estellan0vella]

No Papa ❀ includes: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna & Toji (REQUESTED) Masterlist

Satoru approaches you with his trademark grin, eyes twinkling with mischief behind his sunglasses. He leans in for a kiss, but before he can make contact, your baby girl wedges herself between you two. She pouts, tiny arms outstretched as if to shield you from her father.

“Hey, what's this?” Satoru laughs, trying to manoeuvre around her. But she’s determined, pushing at his chest with surprising force for someone so small.

“No, Papa! Mama’s mine!” she declares, glaring at him with all the ferocity her little face can muster.

Satoru's laughter echoes through the room as he steps back, hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I see how it is. Mama’s all yours, princess.”

You chuckle, pulling your daughter into your lap. She snuggles against you, shooting her father a triumphant look. He gives you a playful wink, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“Guess I’ll just have to earn some kisses later,” he says, blowing a kiss to you both. Your daughter giggles, finally satisfied that she’s successfully warded off her father.

Suguru walks into the living room, his smile softening as he sees you playing with your baby boy on the floor. He approaches, intending to greet you with a kiss. But as he bends down, your son crawls over with surprising speed, inserting himself between you two.

“No, Papa! My Mama!” he exclaims, arms spread wide as if to protect you from Suguru's advances.

Suguru chuckles, a deep, warm sound that fills the room. “Is that so? You’re guarding Mama, huh?”

Your son nods vigorously, looking up at him with big, serious eyes. Suguru raises an eyebrow, amused. He crouches down to your son’s level, ruffling his hair gently.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to upset my little guardian,” he says with a grin. “I guess Mama’s off-limits for now.”

You smile, pulling your son close and kissing the top of his head. He beams, satisfied with his victory. Suguru stands back up, shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Looks like I’ll have to wait for my turn,” he says, giving you a loving glance. “But I’m not giving up that easily.”

Nanami returns home after a long day, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. He walks over, intending to greet you with a kiss, but your baby has other ideas.

"Papa, stop!" your little one shouts, rushing to stand between you and Nanami.

Nanami raises an eyebrow, his expression amused but patient. "What's this, little one?"

Your baby puffs out their chest. "Mama is mine!"

Nanami glances at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Is that so?"

You shrug, laughing softly. "Seems like it."

Nanami kneels down to face your baby. "Alright, how about a compromise? If I promise to read your favorite story later, can I have a kiss from Mama?"

Your baby hesitates, considering the offer. After a moment, they nod reluctantly. "Just one, Papa."

Nanami smiles, reaching out to gently ruffle their hair. "Thank you." He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your baby watches closely, then nods in approval once it's over.

"Story time now, Papa!" they demand, grabbing his hand.

Nanami chuckles, standing up and leading them to the living room. "Alright, a promise is a promise."

Choso walks into the living room, his usual stoic expression softening as he sees you sitting with your baby boy. He moves to kiss you, but your son immediately intervenes, crawling over to block his path.

“No, Papa! Mama’s mine!” he declares, his tiny hands pushing against Choso’s legs.

Choso blinks in surprise, then lets out a rare, soft laugh. “Is that so? You’re keeping Mama all to yourself?”

Your son nods vigorously, holding onto you tightly. Choso crouches down, a gentle smile on his face as he regards your son. “I see. I suppose I’ll have to respect that.”

You smile, pulling your son into your lap and kissing the top of his head. He beams up at you, satisfied with his success. Choso watches the two of you, his eyes filled with a tender warmth.

“Well, I’ll let you have Mama for now,” he says, standing back up. “But I get her when you're asleep"

You laugh, and Choso gives you a knowing look, clearly enjoying the playful rivalry. Your son giggles, content to have won this round.

Sukuna strides into the room, his usual smirk in place. He sees you and makes his way over, intending to claim a kiss. However, your baby quickly positions themselves between you two.

"Papa, no!" they declare, their tiny hands raised in defiance.

Sukuna arches an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh? And why not?"

Your baby puffs out their chest. "Mama is mine!"

Sukuna chuckles darkly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Is that so?"

Without warning, he scoops your baby up with one hand, holding them effortlessly in the air as they wiggle and protest. "Papa, no fair!"

"All's fair in love and war," Sukuna replies smoothly, leaning in to kiss you deeply. You smile against his lips, finding the situation both amusing and endearing.

Your baby eventually gives up, realizing they can't win against their father's strength. Sukuna pulls back, setting your baby down gently.

"See? That wasn't so bad," he teases, ruffling their hair.

Your baby huffs, crossing their arms but eventually relenting as Sukuna's charm works its magic.

Toji walks into the room, his eyes immediately seeking you out. He moves to kiss you, but your son, sitting in your lap, lets out a loud wail and reaches up to push him away.

Toji raises an eyebrow. "Already staking your claim, huh?" he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You laugh, gently rubbing your son’s back. "Looks like someone’s not in the mood to share Mama today."

Toji tries again, leaning in slowly, but your son’s protests only get louder. "Alright, kiddo, I get it," he says, stepping back. "Mama’s all yours."

Your son glares at Toji with an intensity that’s both adorable and fierce. You shake your head, amused. "He’s very protective."

Toji sighs, though he’s clearly more amused than annoyed. "I’ll just have to wait my turn, then."

You give him an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

He waves it off, sitting down beside you. "No need to apologize. I like seeing him so attached to you."

You lean over and give Toji a quick kiss on the cheek. "He’ll warm up eventually."

Toji grins. "I’m counting on it."

[leona-hawthorne]

AHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU!!!! OKAY OKAY I WANTED TO BE ONE OF THE FIRST REQUESTS SO....

Can I have book browsing, trope is Friends to Lovers, with Theodore Nott, quotes/scenarios being: “say we’re just friends one more time. i dare you.”

“you’re so cute.” “what?” “i said you look like shit. bye!”

random people thinking you’re a couple when you’re supposed to be just “friends”

I'm so excited girl obviously no rush or obligation to write this but yeah love you

And I might have ideas for at least 2 more for the other two tropes I'm in love with (GrumpyxSunshine and fake dating)

I FEEL LIKE A PROUD MOM!! CONGRATS!!

HIIII I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING BB!!! and you can send in as many requests as you want, i LOVE fake dating 🤭 i haven't written a cute little friends to lovers in a VERY long time so this was so much fun for me, hope you like it :) also i love how i said these were gonna be drabbles and now this is over 2k 🧍🏽‍♀️(ps there was a position that i really struggled to describe so i hope the pic on the left helps you imagine it)

1k celebration navigation

JUST FRIENDS… book browsing

ミ★ THEODORE NOTT

The smell of old parchment and polished wood filled the little record store in Hogsmeade, the familiar scent settling around you like a cozy blanket. It was one of those shops you and Theo always managed to stumble into, especially on days when you both needed a break from the endless demands of exams and essays. 

Theo was flipping through a stack of records, eyebrows knit in concentration, while you stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, sharing amused little glances every time he pulled out a particularly dusty one. When he found an album cover featuring a hilariously dramatic wizard band—complete with glittering robes and exaggerated makeup—he held it up for you to see, lips twitching as he tried to hold back a laugh.

"Could be your new look," you teased, nudging him lightly.

He rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of mischief in them. "Think I could pull it off?"

"Not in a million years," you said, grinning, and he chuckled, the sound sweet and warm, and somehow just for you.

Moments later, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "Stay here," he said, brushing a loose strand behind your ear in an almost absent gesture, one that had become so natural you barely noticed it anymore. "I’m leaving and getting us butterbeers before you can insult my taste any further."

Before you could respond, he was off, slipping out of the shop and leaving you alone with the smell of old records and a contented smile you couldn’t quite shake. 

You let your gaze wander across the store, admiring the walls plastered with concert posters and slightly faded album covers. It was then that the shopkeeper—a kind-eyed woman who looked as if she'd seen more than her fair share of young love—caught your attention. She was watching you with a soft, approving smile, and before you could say anything, she leaned in conspiratorially.

“You two make a beautiful couple, you know,” she said, her voice low but warm, as if she was sharing a delightful little secret.

Your mind stumbled over the words. “Oh! Um,” you stammered, your cheeks warming under her steady, amused gaze. “Actually, we’re not—uh, we’re just friends.”

The woman’s smile widened knowingly, her eyes twinkling. “Sure, sweetheart. Friends. I’ve seen enough ‘friends’ like you two in my day to last me a lifetime.” 

She left you standing there, words caught in your throat, while you tried to brush off the fluttering in your chest, and by the time Theo returned with your butterbeers, you were still blushing furiously, trying to process the shopkeeper's words. Her knowing smile lingered in your mind, making you acutely aware of the way your body seemed to hum in content whenever Theo was near.

“What’s with you?” he asked, handing you your drink.

You hesitated, searching his face for any hint of awareness, but his expression was relaxed, oblivious. “Nothing,” you muttered, taking a sip and forcing yourself to meet his eyes. But the word “couple” echoed in your mind, and for the first time, you weren’t so sure you could ignore it.

You knew she wasn't the only one to have thought you and Theo were dating. You weren't stupid nor oblivious; you'd both known about the rumors floating around Hogwarts. The ones that said you and Theo were boyfriend and girlfriend, the ones that said you were in love with each other, even the ones that said you had to have fucked at least once (which, no, you hadn't!).

Though, you couldn’t blame people for thinking that way. With the way Theo would always brush a strand of hair behind your ear, spoil you with gifts, bury his face in your neck when you hugged, even casually kiss your cheek when he bid you goodbye—it made sense people assumed such things. But still, all of it was just platonic, right?

As you sipped your butterbeer, trying to calm the strange mix of emotions swirling inside you, Theo picked up where he'd left off, flipping through records again. His fingers brushed against yours as he handed you another one to examine, and the brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through you.

"You should get this one," he said, pointing to a cover adorned with a dragon riding a broomstick. "It's got some decent tracks."

You took the record, trying to focus on the music instead of the warmth of his hand against yours. "Yeah, maybe," you replied, pretending to study the cover intently.

"Maybe?" Theo repeated, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Come on, don't leave me hanging. You've gotta have an opinion." He leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he spoke, "Besides, I think the dragon looks adorable on that broom."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the closeness, his warm breath sending tingles across your skin. It took all your willpower not to lean into him, to savor the intimacy of the moment. "Alright, alright," you relented with a chuckle, holding up the record. "I'll take it. For you."

Theo grinned, satisfaction etched on his features. "Excellent choice. Now, let's pay for these and get out of here before you embarrass me further with your doubting of my impeccable taste."

Theo led you to the counter, setting the record upon the counter. The shopkeeper, who had returned to arranging a display of limited edition CDs, looked up and smiled. 

"This looks like a treasure, you two," she said, ringing up the item with practiced efficiency. "The young wizard definitely has good taste."

She nodded towards you, winking, and for a moment, you wondered if she would bring up your earlier exchange. But instead, she wrapped your selection in a brown paper bag and slid it across the counter. "Enjoy!"

Theo reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, dropping a few galleons onto the counter. "Here you go," he said to the shopkeeper, an easy, charismatic smile playing on his lips.

"Wait, Theo," you interjected, reaching for your own purse. "I can pay for myself. You don't need to buy my record."

But Theo waved you off dismissively. "Nah, don't worry about it. Consider it a gift from me to you." He winked playfully, flashing you a crooked grin. "Besides, I'm the one who insisted you get it, remember? It's only fair I foot the bill."

Your heart fluttered traitorously at his words, at the easy affection in his tone. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. "Well...thank you then," you managed, ducking your head shyly. "That's really sweet of you."

Theo shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a pleased gleam in his eye. “It’s what I’m here for.”

As you stepped out of the shop and back onto the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, Theo draped an arm casually around your shoulders. "So, where to now?" he asked, guiding you down the road. "We could head over to Zonko's, see if they have anything new and ridiculous... And potentially dangerous." 

You hesitated, feeling the weight of Theo's arm around your shoulders, the warmth seeping through your robes. Normally, you'd be all for exploring Zonko's, reveling in their eccentric and often hazardous products. But tonight, everything felt different.

"I don't know, Theo," you mumbled, glancing around at the deepening shadows. "It's getting pretty late. Maybe we should just head back to the castle?"

There was a flicker of disappointment in Theo's eyes, but he nodded understandingly. "Yeah, okay." He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before releasing you, then holding out his hand, offering you a way to apparate together. "Ready?" 

You nodded, placing your hand in his. His grip was firm yet gentle, his palm slightly rough against your softer skin. With a twist of his wrist, Theo activated the apparition charm, and suddenly the world blurred around you.

When the colors settled, you found yourself standing in front of the Hogwarts gates, Theo still holding your hand. He let go slowly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Made it in one piece," he said, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

He fell into step beside you as you walked towards the girls' dormitories, his long legs easily keeping pace with your shorter strides. The silence between you was comfortable, the kind that came from years of friendship and shared experiences.

As you approached the door to your dormitory, Theo halted abruptly. 

"Well, until next time, princess," he quipped, giving you a mock salute. "Try not to dream too much about me, hmm?"

A playful smirk danced on his lips, and you couldn't help but return it, your heart skipping a beat at the flirty remark. "I make no promises," you retorted sarcastically, reaching for the doorknob.

Theo chuckled, the sound low and rich. He opened his mouth, seemed to ponder something for a moment, then spoke with exaggerated gravity, “I must bid you adieu, my trusty companion! Until the morrow!" 

He clasped his hands together dramatically, as if holding an invisible cane, complete with an imaginary top hat on his head.

Your laughter bubbled up unexpectedly, a sudden burst of joy at his antics. "You're so cute," you managed to gasp out between giggles, still grinning widely.

Theo froze mid-dramatic pose, his eyes widening. "What?" he sputtered.

Before he could react further, you added hastily, "Uh, I said you look like shit. Bye!" With that, you yanked open the dormitory door and practically dove inside, slamming it shut behind you.

The next day, you somehow found yourself in his room. You'd contemplated avoiding him altogether until you figured out your feelings, but who were you kidding? You could never say no to him when he asked you to hang out.

Theo sat by the windowsill, staring out at the sprawling grounds below. The setting sunlight cast a warm glow across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the slight scruff on his chin.

As he lost himself in thought, he became vaguely aware of movement from the corner of his eye. Glancing over, he stared at you, sprawled out on his bed flat on your back, a book propped up above your head as you read lazily.

Theo pushed the window open wider, allowing the evening breeze to carry in the scent of damp earth and rain. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, taking a slow drag as he gazed out at the sky. He exhaled slowly, watching the wisps dissipate into the evening air.

As you paused your reading for a moment, your gaze drifted over to Theo's silhouette by the window, the glow of his cigarette bright against the dim light. A familiar annoyance stirred within you, and you closed the book with a soft thud.

"Teddy, you know I hate it when you smoke around me," you said, trying to keep your tone light even as you wrinkled your nose in distaste. The acrid smell always lingered, clinging to his clothes and hair. You knew it wasn't fair to nag him, but old habits died hard.

Theo turned to face you fully, blowing out a stream of smoke before flicking the ash onto the windowsill. “I suppose I'm just a terrible friend then, aren't I?” he drawled, though there was no real bite to his words. “But tell me, Y/N, what would you prefer I do instead? Sit here and watch you sprawl across my bed like a lazy house cat all afternoon?”

You remained perfectly still, arms draped by your sides, book forgotten on your stomach. "Sounds like a plan to me," you replied nonchalantly, closing your eyes as if settling in for a nice nap.

The tension in the room seemed to shift, the air growing heavier with unspoken things. You could sense Theo's gaze on you, but you refused to acknowledge it, pretending you hadn't noticed the subtle change in his demeanor. Maybe if you acted like nothing was amiss, he would too.

Theo took another slow drag from his cigarette as he studied your profile, noting the slight furrowing of your brow as you pretended to drift off to sleep. After a moment, he stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and leaned against the windowsill, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I have a better idea," he said, his voice low and thoughtful. "How about you tell me now why you were acting so weird yesterday when I came back to the record store?"

You felt your cheeks flush slightly at Theo's question, memories of the shopkeeper's words flashing through your mind unbidden. "I don't know what you're talking about," you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I wasn't acting weird."

Even as the denial left your lips, you knew Theo could see right through it. He always had, ever since you'd first met him all those years ago. That uncanny ability to read you like an open book was part of what made him such an incredible friend...and lately, maybe something more.

Theo raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Save it, Y/N. I can practically hear the gears turning in that head of yours from here. Why are you dodging the question? Just tell me what happened."

A deep breath escaped you as you finally surrendered to the truth, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Okay, fine. It was just...that lady behind the counter. When you left to go get us butterbeers, she told me you and I make a beautiful couple... and I guess it shook me a little."

Theo fell silent for a long moment, his gaze searching yours intently. When he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. "A beautiful couple, huh?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "And this bothers you because...?"

Still staring up at the ceiling, you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you tried to articulate your feelings. "Because! We're friends! And everyone keeps assuming that... you know. That there's something more between us."

Theo pushed himself away from the window, moving closer to where you lay across his bed. He sat down beside you, his fingers brushing against your arm as he rested his hand on the mattress.

"Well, maybe they're not wrong," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "Maybe there is something more between us."

Your heart began to race as Theo invaded your personal space, the warmth radiating from his body making you suddenly hyperaware of every inch of skin that brushed against yours. You swallowed hard, struggling to maintain a facade of calm.

"Teddy..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don't be ridiculous. It's not... We... We're friends, right?" Even as the words left your mouth, you couldn't help but wonder if they were true anymore.

In a swift motion, Theo leaned down above you, bringing his face mere inches from yours as you lay flat on your back, giving you an upside-down view of his face looming over you. His hands found purchase on the mattress, holding himself aloft without touching you, and in that moment, you could've sworn your heart stopped beating. 

"Say we're just friends one more time," he challenged. "I dare you." 

As Theo's challenge hung heavy in the air, you found yourself unable to speak. Finally, after what felt like ages of silence, you managed to whisper, "I... What are we then, Theo?"

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying your nervousness. But there was something else there too – curiosity, perhaps? Or maybe hope? Whatever it was, it was clear that you weren't going to back down this time.

"More," Theo breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. And then, slowly, tentatively, he closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours in a gentle, exploratory kiss.

It was chaste, almost innocent—but it sent sparks racing through your veins nonetheless. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you returned the kiss, marveling at the way Theo's lips moved against yours with such tender precision. This was new territory for both of you, and yet somehow, it felt so incredibly right.

Theo held the position, hovering above you with his hands gripping the mattress, his nose lightly brushing against your chin. He didn't deepen the kiss or try to pull you closer; instead, he simply lingered, savoring the feeling of your lips meeting his for the very first time.

As Theo pulled away from the kiss, you found yourself staring up at him, wide-eyed and breathless. "Wow, I, um— you—" you stammered, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

But before you could finish your sentence, Theo cut you off with a soft chuckle. "Shut up, Y/N," he murmured, his fingers grazing your cheek as he leaned in once more.

[h5eavenly]

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

Twenty - you're pretty when you're mine. warnings: smut and angst yipeee

Masterlist ✶ prev ✶ next

“What do you think?” you ask, foolish perturbation coloring the cadences of your voice. Your teeth sinking into your bottom lip with vigor the longer Jake’s silence stretches, the slower his teeth chew on the piece of dessert you had given to him with a glimmer in your eyes, a plead for his opinion.

“It’s good.” He answers shortly.

You release your lip into a pout, shoulders slumping down with disillusionment at the lack of buoyancy in his voice, yet the bags that seem almost permeant under his eyes, evidence of his everlasting fatigue that is pasted onto his features renders you mute. Aware that your pining for his approval is merely a desire to feed your hungry heart, woven with longing.

Jake’s eyes flit to your face then, taking note of the adorable disappointment awfully out of place on your face, it has his own heart softening, his fingers brushing across the skin of your arm with susurrates of your attention.

“I mean it. It’s really good bunny.” He reassures, attempting to demolish through your sulking. And you, with a heart as fragile as glass, one that is easy to peek through just as fast it trembles, only shake your head at him.

“You don’t look like you enjoyed it though.” You mumble, your pout enriching with the sway of your feet like a kid complaining how they didn’t get a taste of their favorite candy.

Jake’s smile disperses across his lips with fondness you don’t notice, his expression melting into endearment at the way you can never keep your words lodged into your heart for too long, your thoughts lingering at the tip of your tongue, yet he always manages to prompt them to spill.

“Have I ever lied to you?” he urges with a hum, titling his head at you in strives to catch your eyes and it works right away.

“No.” you shake your head.

“Then believe me this time too.” As if to make a point he takes another bite of the red velvet cupcake and this time it’s you who breaks into a smile tinged with fondness, like glass refracting light into a rainbow.

It’s directed at his kindness, at his attentive comfort towards you despite the heavy burden of simply existing weighing him down. You don’t get enough time for gratitude to unravel through your words because in a moment of your eyes falling into each other, a brush of his fingers in between the slots of yours, Sunghoon is standing between you two, a look of horrified disgust dancing between you two.

“Can you two not in flirt in the middle of work?” he comments with a roll of his eyes, one that has the tips of your ears tinting pink.

“We’re not flirting.” You defend weakly, your own words holding little to no conviction even to your own ears as you bunglingly retract your hand.

“Alright,” Sunghoon raises his eyebrow at you, tone dripping with irony “Can you shoo? I still need to dress Jake for his photoshoot.” He trails off, your eyes fliting to the couple pieces of garment he’s holding in his arms “Some of us need to actually work you know.”

“Hey!” you deliver a light slap to his shoulder “I work really hard! Tell him Jake” you turn your head to Jake with a pout of offense clambering over your face.

“I don’t know to me it looks like you’re slacking off right now.” Jake says, a sly grin is thrown at you and your mouth falls open with an overemphasized shock.

“Wow you’re really gonna betray me like that?”

“mhm. Are you gonna cry about it, little bunny?”

“As if! Give me back my cupcake” you attempt to snatch the half-eaten cupcake out of his grasp, leaning your body over the chair he’s sitting down in and yet it’s all deemed a failure when Jake stretches his arm out and away from you, a teasing smirk dispersing across his lips, eyes gleaming with mischief as your chest brushes against his shoulders.

“Jake!” you whine with facetious annoyance “Give it back! You’re not worth my treats”

“I don’t think so.” He mocks, watching with satisfaction etched onto his face at your futile tries.

You don’t get to register his other arm sneaking around your waist with a firm grip, ensuring you don’t end up stumbling onto your feet and falling over with the way you’re leaning over him. It’s such a saccharine gesture, one that comes as silently as a fluttering breeze sighing through petals of cherry blossom. A tincture of warmth spreads across your chest and you only feel it when Sunghoon has separated you two with an annoyed groan, reiterating his need to dress Jake.

“Shoo! Now!” He chastised and you had walked away with an overly dramatic pout drawn on your lips, throwing puppy like looks over your shoulder at them.

It only earned you a middle finger from Sunghoon and a snort from Jake.

You only think about his touch protracted moments later, when you still feel the heat of his body radiating off your waist, as if his touch has seared itself upon your skin. A coat of infatuation you can’t seem to take off. It’s the sole reason your heartbeat is abidingly fast even when his touch is long gone, even when his eyes are no longer on you but instead focused on Sunghoon’s face as they discuss his look. You remain a constant in a field of overgrown affection, your fingers itch – tinged with compulsion to pluck them out, you don’t have the energy nor the time to water them and yet, you don’t. your gaze glistening with heedless wishes.

Just a little longer.

You had yearned.

Even as the day unfolds like it always does, congested with Jake’s busy photoshoots and you running around in hope of making anything flow a little smoother for him. It’s only at the very ending hours of your schedule, the night sky had settled with a frigid air circling through the streets. As you sit in the backseat of the van with Jake’s head on your shoulder, exhaling tired puffs of air, and eyes closed.

Somewhere along the ride and in between seemingly unmoving traffic, he had rested his head on your shoulder, with mumbles about how tired he is. Albeit the days that have passed by with you snuggled between his covers or him falling asleep in your bed as if it’s his own, your body still can’t grow accustomed to having him so close.

Yet you still linger in your silence, putting on a show of having it all together as you scroll through your emails, mindlessly while Jay sits opposite from you, scrolling through his own end of work.

“Do you wanna go back to my place?” He whispers right into the skin of your neck, it has your fingers pausing across the screen of your iPad with bated breath, a shiver of something akin to excitement trialing down the length of your spine with fervor.

It isn’t an aberrant question, it’s one that you have heard for more days than not, one that you memorized the action that follows right after, the taste of his lips upon yours and the cruelty of his hands across your body. Yet how come they feel so welcoming? When did his light no longer blinded you but rather pulled you in?

“Sure.” You reply after a few silent beats, clearing your throat and adjusting yourself on your seat.

Jake only hums, and you smile to yourself as the amiability of his proximity filtrates through your essence. You smile, unaware of the heedless wishes driving you into the deepest end of the ground with promise of suffocation, unaware of the way Jay eyes you two.

Your night unfurls like it always does whenever you’re close to him, although with a few different elements it all ends in the same way. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself as you’re standing in the middle of his kitchen and amidst attempts to make a warm cup of tea that Jake didn’t even ask for. You grew a proclivity to try adding any weights of comfort to him, whether that was between the walls of his own home or dreadful hours of photoshoots and interviews.

And you enjoy it really, within your days you have accepted the fact that caring for Jake comes to you with no duress, in fact it is him that had always pushed you away from doing unnecessary things for him you’re not sure if he wasn’t used to the way you looked at him with genial amiability rather than reproach.

You enjoy it until you’re forced to be faced with the reality that none of this means anything cavernous than two lonely souls stumbling upon tender succour in blurry lines and scraps of affection.

You enjoy it until nights like these have your insecurity bubbling to the surface, protruding every sense of certitude he had whispered in your ears even when he didn’t have to. It all crumbles with vast impetus only because you saw a framed picture of Soojin on one of the tables in the living room.

You’re not sure how you never noticed it before, maybe because you and Jake never really spend much time outside his bedroom walls.

but you wish you didn’t. you wish you had gone blind for a moment or rather you wish you didn’t care as much as you did, there’s so much you wish for and yet none of them can be breathed into life in the same semblance you have to tie yourself back from tripping on questions you want to ask.

Is what between you and I merely a comfortable lie?

But none of it mattered, not when your chest had tightened with prodding thoughts, like knives stabbing at your heart with reminders that you will never be good enough.

Because you were feeling so good until moments ago, floating atop the clouds as Jake had muttered to you about how he needs to shower first, you took it upon yourself to ruminate through his displayed pieces, fingers grazing the soft petals of forget me not and eyes lingering on the singular painting he had hung up on one of the walls. You had paused with a dilated gaze, stupefied by the way fate seemed to work because you didn’t need to look at the signature to know who it belonged to you.

The art style was one that you couldn’t mistake for anything else, yet your smile had fallen from your face with enormous force as you took notice of the pictures of Soojin. You had to reason with your brain that they are close, even if you hate it but perhaps it was the fact that she holds space you never will, perhaps it was that you’re not even anything remotely close to what she is to him. You will never leave evidence of your existence behind.

Perhaps it was the fact that you and Jake do not mean anything outside the walls of his bedroom.

“Bunny?” you swivel your head around with surprise on your face as if forgotten where you were “What are you doing?” Jake asks– now freshly showered- leaning on the doorframe of his kitchen, his eyes darting over your figure rapidly.

“Making you tea.” You blink yourself out of your thoughts.

“Why? You don’t have to.”

“I know,” your smile tilts up your lips with ease, warmth that’s only ever entailed with whispers of his name “I wanted to.”

It’s only moments later when the both of you are on the couch of his living room, the entire space enveloped with darkness if not the moonlight seeping in through his open window.

“You’re awfully clingy today.” You comment as his arms tighten around your waist with dripping affection, pulling you against his chest impossibly closer and rests his chin on your shoulder. You don’t give room for yourself to waver even when he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Vanilla and cinnamon engulf his being with you.

“’m not clingy.” He mumbles, halfheartedly and with no intent for them to hold any meaning over your ears, so you don’t let them, only humming as your fingers graze the length of his arm, tracing over his veins, your fingertips leaving a trail of blossoming life behind “I’m just tired.” He adds after a while, as if his exhaustion is not a see-through flimsy excuse to have you closer, his chest pressing into your back.

“Do you wanna go to bed maybe?” you ask, concern inscribed into every stroke of your voice, as warm as the tea you had just made him and it has him smiling against your neck, evoking your smile to raise melting into a giggle “What?” you ask and when he huffs out a chuckle, yours sync with his colored pink like the flush upon your cheeks.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, hugging you tighter “I just wanna stay like this for a bit.” Your heart trashes around your chest, and you fail not to waver akin to spring air wisping through your hair in the daytime.

“We can stay like this for as long as you want.” You whisper and he hums in agreement.

As a tranquil silence settles upon the two of you, his humming continues, turning into a sweet melody that you don’t recognize evoking your curiosity from Paris to rise to the surface once again. Although it isn’t coherent singing it’s enough for your soul to perchinto a similar placid feeling akin to floating atop waters warmed by the unforgiving sun or maybe it’s simply the warmth that comes from falling in love.

“What’s that song?” you whisper, afraid to break through his tonality of serene.

“It doesn’t have a name.” he answers after a few beats of silence.

You contemplate on the urges arising to ask for more information. Your fingers itching with heedless wishes yet again, so foolishly selfish like unraveling parts of him, a heedless wish like diving into him, looking through every nook and cranny of his being, even the darkest place he wishes light never touches. You don’t really linger on why, on where this urge exactly comes from and instead your nerves take over, worried you might catch yourself too far in, so you hold your tongue instead.

Your eyes dart across the living room in rapid search for something else to talk about, as they land on the piece of art hung upon his sage colored walls and your eyes light up, reminder of the piece you share.

“That painting.” you start, and he peeks at it, looking where your eyes are glued.

“What about it?”

“It’s really pretty.” You reply, feigning ignorance as your eyes trail over the name signed on the corner.

“I bought it at one of those college expos. I don’t really care about art, but I liked this one I guess.” He explains and your lips curl up into a grin as your fingers smooth over the length of his arm.

“Why this one?”

“I guess I could see what the artist was feeling.” His voice is soft, almost getting lost in the folds of silence if not caught by your heart “and I felt the same at the time.” He continues, tone sliding even softer, abrading across the surface of your chest with warmth the same way your nails to his skin.

“What do you think the artist was feeling?” Your smile slowly melts off your face, your essence overtaken by curiosity.

The painting was darkened by colors of gray and black, leaning towards petrifying it was a figure with their head in their hands as if in the middle of an agonizing scream, a couple of hundred nails stabbed into the skin.

“Guilt.” He replies “I felt like the artist was really struggling to overcome his guilt. As if it’s a part of you that you can’t seem to shake off. A shadow that constantly follows.” He continues, tone vulnerable as if the same liability still bears his soul, as if that shadow still loiters behind him.

His answer has your chest tightening compulsorily, as your eyes flit across the splashes of paint once again the meaning comes to you the same. Unfurling from the depths of darkness you can’t help the pain of realization that settles, it floods your being with a similar laminate of guilt.

“Niki painted this.” You say, letting out a breath and Jake stills, leaning his head back to steal a look at your expression.

“Your brother did?”

“Yeah,” you answer keeping your eyes fixated on the painting, darting over every swivel of color “I never really looked at his paintings this deeply before to understand.” you let out a chuckle that lacks humor and Jake doesn’t answer but you feel his gaze on you, fits his fingers in the empty spaces between yours with a squeeze.

“He’s really talented.” He says after a few minutes with sincerity.

“He is. He’s always been amazing at everything he does.” Your gaze falls to your interlocked hands, the sight of his fingers in between yours stirs something cloyingly tender within you “I wish he didn’t have to feel that way.” You continue with a soft voice, as if unwittingly revealing the concerns haunting your mind.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not something you can take away.” Jake whispers back, his thumb brushing over your hand.

“I know.” You smile, turning your head to catch his eyes with yours and the benignity woven in them almost has you melting, the skin of your fingers craves to mesh with his.

I wish you didn’t have to feel this way.

You almost want to whisper to him, right in whatever blurry space has been built between you two.

“You’re doing everything that you could, and it's amazing.” His eyes are penetrating, filled with seas of truth that you plunge yourself into with no second’s thoughts, your heart trembles with each word, your eyes softening so marginally.

Will you

“Thank you.” your chuckle escapes you gravelly, tinting your cheeks with a blush along the way “in the past none of my partners liked how much I cared about Niki- i-it feels like no one understood” Jake listens intently, a smile twinged with incitement for your emotions to unwind, spilling with a hue of rare amenability “So thank you for saying that.”

Allow me

“I think you dated a bunch of idiots if they weren’t able to envelope your heart with the same kindness it radiates.”

A silly urge to cry takes over your being albeit no tears fill your eyes, and your lips slightly twitch upwards in a grin twined with nothing but warmth that comes from the glimmer present in his tired eyes or perhaps it’s the heat emitting from his body pressing against yours, maybe it’s in the sincerity that laces his voice so effortlessly as if peering through your veils comes as easy as breathing to him.  Whatever it is, it is in this fleeting moment that you feel no need to hide but rather strangely feeling safe enough to spill whatever substance have plagued your soul for years.

To stay

“Do you mean that?”

“That you dated a bunch of idiots? I thought that was common sense?” you roll your eyes with a chuckle, his own smile rising as you deliver a slight jab to his stomach with your elbow.

“Jerk.” His own laughter erupts with ease, stealing your heartbeat as you attempt to free yourself from his embrace, his arms tighten around you. denying you.

“Have I ever lied to you?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you squirm with a shake of your head “Then believe my truth this time as well.”  He continues plaiting his words with a hum, a squeeze of his arms around your middle as if he’s not the reason breathing grows harder and harder to catch. An endless chase.

By your side?

“Sometimes I feel like I barely have anything to offer maybe that’s why I end up with a bunch of idiots.” You admit after a while, hushed as if shameful of the insecurity coating your flesh “Yeonjun – my ex that cheated on me at work remember? Yeah-“you chuckle nervously, a bitter edge to your laughter as if the memory is still fresh in your mind “used to say that all the time- that there’s nothing particularly special about me.”

You’re silent for a few tantalizing minutes, your gaze turning hazy as if recollections of every painful word Yeonjun has ever muttered still surrounded you, they twirl around your mind with the same affliction.

“I wonder why do I crave to be something-“you pause with darting glances as if trying to find meaning in the gaping holes of your being until they catch his “special so bad?”

Jake’s have always known his incarnation to turn coarse, his propensity for honesty remains abiding and he never knew to sugarcoat his words, they come out harsh, sharpened like an edge of a blade. You are a paradox to his own existence, the complete opposite of him, a gentle soul with words coated in candied affection.

It’s baffling to him, how someone as extraordinary as you could feel this way.

So, he shouldn’t be surprised at the words of raising at the tip of his tongue, almost choking him with its sweetness merely because it is directed at you.

“Isn’t giving your heart away the most precious thing you could ever offer?”

“What if my heart isn’t good enough either?”

“How could it ever not be good enough when it’s yours?”

As your eyes dance around each other, his reveal nothing but pure, crude veracity. It dawns on your being so intensely you’re not sure you have even a mere moment to question the fastening beats of your heart. You’re not sure when was it exactly that your world has shrank to nothing but him. When was it exactly that chasing fleeing gazes and waiting for touches of lust upon your skin have turned into this?

“How could it not be special when every particle of your essence is you?”

You never knew comfort that comes so simple yet so vigorous with its weight, how could such a minuscule word have such a big impact on your glass heart, on your staggered breath and how could it water your hope so effortlessly?

Another seed of heedless wishes grows, venturous with desire like asking him if I gave it to you would you still think the same?

“I don’t know how you make words sound like that.”

“Like what?” he asks, even in the middle of his living room his eyes sparkle as if they hold specks of stardust, his lips twitch upwards in a smile like the glimmering moon.

You feel foolish with the transparent reverence flowing through every part of you, in the tips of your fingers and in the delicate sentiment of you. You grow sorry for the rest of the world for stealing the scintillates of the night sky, you’re in his arms and you’re awfully sorry because there’s no way for you to share.

“I don’t know how you make everything sound so magical.”

“I think you’re just soft for me bunny.”

“You wish.” You snort, your words lack meaning and more than anything power.

“Do you ever miss Yeonjun?” he murmurs after a few moments of quietness, and your surprise takes you like a storm passing by with vehemence, it has your eyebrow twitching with semblance of annoyance that you’re not sure why it filtrates through your thoughts.

You don’t expect it, maybe not when you’re on his lap and in between touches of tender affection.

“Do you miss yours?” you retort back, harsher than intended and bittered by his nonchalance.

“Sometimes.” He answers and your nails dig into his flesh lightly, not sharp enough to evoke his notice “But we ended on good terms and we’re still friendly.”

You poke your tongue in your cheek as your eyes trail over that picture of Soojin once again, you’re somewhat thankful he can’t feel the heat of your furious gaze as you glare at the unmoving picture, and yet you’re somewhat annoyed he seems unaware of your frustration the way it imbues your senses has you faltering with hesitation at an answer to give back, so you don’t. Instead, you dwindle into silence intoxicated by your rapid heartbeat and the feeling of his breath on your cheek.

It's only when your own chest starts heaving as his lips ever so slowly, softly pressing into your neck with a phantom of a kiss, almost imperceptibly. His fingers trailing under your blouse with purpose, his touch scalding hot as his fingers graze over your hipbone and your lips separate with an audible gasp.

“What?” he breathes out an amused chuckle at your response.

“I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?” He whispers, his voice tinted with allure the same way his other hand travels up your jaw, denting them with his fingers as he turns your face to him, you grow breathless, stolen by how enchanting his existence remains to be.

“I-I don’t know.” You breathe out, your eyes unfocused on anything other than the soft looking skin of his lips, even when it tilts upwards in an all-familiar teasing smirk that manages to irk you each time.

The space between you grows smaller and smaller as he invariably inches forward, his exhales mingling with yours and your mouth falls open with a silent moan, his fingers – with desire emanating from them slip past the confine of your pants. Your body burns with the heat of his touch, longing colors your gaze the longer he doesn’t kiss you and his glisten with mirth as he keeps his lips atop yours, almost touching yet not close enough.

never close enough.

“For someone who pretends to be unexpectant you sure are wet.” Your face burns with a blush so deep you could only hope the dark aids in concealing it, even when Jake’s thumb is pressing onto your clothed clit and your throat bubbles with the threat of a whine.

His scorching gaze scouring over passing expression lingering on your face for not long enough, yet amply enough for his own breathing to rattle, for his own sanity to abscond, overtaken by an utter ache to have you, ache to have you falling apart it has his fingers moving on their own, with a losing battle trailing behind as he buries them in your underwear, your arousal coats his hand as it slips inside of you.

“Jake.” you fall apart as easy as the whine escaping your mouth, as easy as the groan he lets out when he slots his mouth against yours with a bruising kiss, his other hand trails down from your jaw to your throat and your heart reels.

“mhm? What is it baby?”

“I-I thought you were tired.” You mutter weakly throwing your head back on his shoulder as he works his fingers deeper into you.

“Never too tired to fuck you.”  he replies, eyes glued to the way your mouth falls open, your eyebrows scrunching up in pleasure.

Jake’s cravings seem to turn decadent whenever you’re in the picture.

It’s the same way he learns to press his cravings into your back that night, with touches and kisses that abide closer to tender love than the way he looks at you, the way you moan his name, his thumb trails over your spine with fervor, his lips press into your neck with purpose to imprint himself onto your skin, a desire for you to give him something diverting to wear beneath his blood.

“Fuck! Right there!” you moan loudly, your fingers gripping the sheets below you tightly.

“Yeah? feels good baby?” he still asks with a whisper drilling into the same spot as if you’re not falling apart with drool staining his sheets, you still nod with a whine.

“So- so good oh my god- I’m close, don’t stop!” your words are barely coherent, getting cut off by your whimpers.

“Me too baby- fuck you’re so good-“ you keen at the fallen praises from between his lips, the knot in your stomach growing impossibly tighter with the same way his grip tightens around your hips, his thrusts growing harsher, the slap of the skin sounds sinful, reverberating through the walls. A pleasurable groan escapes him at way the you squeeze around him after a particularly hard thrust.

“fuck-!" he growls fucking into you deeper, harder, faster anything to have you crying out "You’re so pretty when you’re mine.”

You’re not sure if you hear him correctly, if your mind had conjured up a couple of words to feed your delusions, convocation that they’re closer to reality than none yet your orgasm feels like it dissolves you into liquid with how hard it hits you, the sounds emitting from you are foreign to your own ears only increasing in volume when he follows with the same path, his come spilling into you.

You’re feeling hazy as he pulls out of you, the air heavy even when he kisses behind your ears with murmurs of needing to clean you up.

You have fallen silent the entire process and it’s not until the both of you had changed that he’s pulling you into bed atop his chest with a question lingering in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice soft with careful tenderness and you only nod your head with a smile.

“i’m just sleepy and tired.”

“My dick is that good?” You don’t need to look at him to know he’s wearing that same annoying expression he has whenever he teases you, a smirk and a glint in his eyes.

“Fuck off bro.” your hands react before your mind, grabbing one of the pillows and hitting him square in the face, the chuckle that erupts from his lips is otherworldly heavenly and your eyes soften, mind plagued with the words he had said earlier.

“Bro? What is wrong with you? I just fucked you.”

“No what is wrong with you?”

“A lot.” He answers and you arch a brow at him, biting back a smile when he rolls his eyes at you with endearment tinting his hands as he pulls you closer to him once again, your head rests atop his chest and you fall into tune with his heartbeat.

As he runs his hands through your strands, the both of you are quiet, something akin to a tranquil silence fills the room yet your mind races with everything that has happened the few couple of weeks, Jake remains unstable, days pass by with him saying a few words to you then fucking you only to fall asleep with the same silence between you, then other nights unfold similar like today, with you pulling effortless laughs from his lips, gentle kisses scattered on your skin.

you're so pretty when you're mine

Did he mean it? or did you imagine it? Have you finally gone mad?

Perhaps it’s that sole reason your hope climbs over every other feeling, perhaps is the heat seared onto your back with whispers of the words he muttered that have you slipping with a new devotion, one like foolishly wishing for your souls to intertwine.

Maybe that’s why you thought it would be okay for you to speak after a while.

A fatal fantasy -

“When we were in Paris.” You start with overflowing prudent, circling the air as you slightly tilt your head upwards with intent to steal a glance at him, his hum comes as encouragement for you to continue “you told me you want to love music the way you used to do but you never answered me when I asked you why.” Your voice is much quieter than before, and his body grows rigid in counted seconds, shorter than you could blink away your orgasm.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” He replies with a deepened sigh, tone monotone and you chew on your lower lip with evident nerves at the lack of emotions radiating from him.

“I’m not gonna force you.” you say, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again “I know things have been tough.” You’re met with quietude from him, one that has the tips of his fingers ceasing atop the skin of your back as if warning you to tie your tongue into a knot, do not break through your vows that took you countless enticing stares to keep.

Your heart abides a trivial piece of glass, yearning for him cuts through like the light of dawn coming to life with increasing heartbeat and woven with feelings you refuse to plaster labels on. Perhaps deep down your soul seeks for everything to fall apart.

“I know you must feel very lonely with how things are. with your mom gone and then your undiagnosed ocd-“you don’t get to finish your sentence before Jake is flinching away from you.

“What?” He sits up on the bed with a furrowed brow and a fire lacing his gaze as it lands on you, the heat of his body abandoning you has you itching “Are you trying be my fucking psych?” his tone - albeit does not change in volume, it still has apparent venom tinting every syllable. It has your heart trembling in your chest with the fear of stepping in too far, tripping on a ticking time bomb that explodes with a bat of your eyelashes.

“No I just thought-“  with nerves aptitude in your tone, limbs. You sit up as well, your fingers trailing over his arm in searched comfort, a reminder that mere minutes ago he was still entangled with you “I’m just trying to help and I thought-“you stumble, on your words and on your quivering heart as you try to find the right words to say yet your cognitive facilities shut down at the disillusionment sneaking into his irises.

“You thought what?” He lets out a short solemn laugh yet long enough to have your temerity crumbling as if daring you to speak.

“I opened up to you earlier and I thought maybe you’d be able to do the same.” You clarify with a whisper, eyes widened with pure longing.

A heedless wish.

“So, you thought you could talk like you fucking know a thing about me.” he grumbles, annoyance evident in the way he pushes his hand through his disheveled hair, and you watch with a shaking heart as he trudges out the bed with slumped shoulders.

“What? No, I’m trying to get to know you, Jake.” You defend, albeit debilitated by the obstacles of ice materializing in his eyes, you follow with the sun in yours.

“By treating me like a fucking project?” He’s growing angrier, it’s so visible in the cruelty that drips from his voice, in the way his eyes widen with a scalding fire threating to take you both down.

“I don’t treat you like a project.”

“Oh, cut the bullshit yn!” he swivels around to face you and you still in your trail with a bated breath “You think I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing? We talk for one night and suddenly you’re talking as if you have the cure to all my problems! Like you can fix me.”

“I’m sorry if it came out that way.” You mutter, your irises shaking with sincerity he doesn’t get to witness, not when he’s overtaken by anger, not when fear trickles in just as intense “When I saw that you had Niki’s painting I just thought-I thought we would be able to relate to each other. That there are sides of us we could understand.” He scoffs at your words, shaking his head in disbelief and your chest tightens, as if callous hands have made their way inside you with abhorrence, squeezing your fragile organ.

“Relate to each other?” He speaks, low and more to himself with displeasure written all over his face “You didn’t even understand what that painting meant until I explained it to you yn how the fuck are you gonna understand anything about me?”

“I know but-“

“God yn do you ever just stop and think about the way you act? The things you say?” As if a monster that has been unleashed, the shackles covered in rust, and they crack with the lump forming in the middle of your throat with a threat for tears to burn your cheeks with scalding trails “Do you ever stop and think about how overbearing you act sometimes?” Jake cannot stop, he feels it in the way his blood burns as it runs through his veins “why can’t you fucking listen to me when I tell you to stop? Why do you need to push me past my limits?”

“I’m sorry maybe I worded it wrong but my goal this time wasn’t to push you.” your words are not getting through to him, instead something akin to hideousness he’s all too familiar crumbles inside of him.

“I feel fucking sorry for your brother he has to deal with this kind of shit from you on top of whatever lead him to make that fucking painting.” His tone is cold and low when he speaks you but they break through your bones harsher than anything he had ever said to you and they crack, extending all the way to your heart, forming scars on the surface he had so delicately soothed not long ago.

You almost want to scoff at yourself more than anyone, how could you be so stupid to think of yourself as anything more than trivial glass that stays unaware of its imminent fate?

Jake regrets his words the moment they leave his mouth, not because of the bitter taste they leave behind but rather over the broken look that seeps into your face as quick as he inhales. His anger for you flees, tumbles to the ground right next to your puddle of blood, woven with your heartbreak and caused by the bullets he aimed at you while he wavers, colored with remorse.

It only penetrates him deeper when you grow quiet, your eyes fliting everywhere as if trying to find meaning in his words somewhere other than his face, as if you didn’t look at him you’ll be able to find different facets of them, ones that aren’t directed at you with only for hurt to unfurls throughout every nook and cranny of you. but then your eyes dart up to him, this time your eye contact doesn’t transpires with desire nor hidden giggles from you. This time your expression completely crumbles with excruciating agony.

“That’s too cruel to say even to someone like me Jake.”

Your words come out choked despite the tears glimmering in your eyes none fall, and it feels like punishment that dawns on him right away, he blinks rapidly at you, too aware of the harsh words that he let slip. There’s real pain in your voice, albeit your pure ability to display your emotions carelessly, he had never seen you this hurt, not in this unadulterated form and he falls speechless.

“bunny,,” he’s not sure what to say, his mind empty but it doesn’t matter because then you’re harshly wiping at your eyes with your arm and in mere moments you’re turning away from him.

He doesn’t know how long he stands in the dimly lit corridor, but it’s long enough to feel the weight of his own words pressing him down until he feels close to suffocating, he stares at his palms and fragments of your broken heart stares back at him.

You should have known heedless wishes were meant to break rather than mend.

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[naomiarai]

シ ───── 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 !

┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

in which you get high with your boyfriend.

└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

⪩⪨ PAIRING : boyfriend!sunghoon × fem!reader

⪩⪨ GENRE : smut, pwop, established relationship.

⪩⪨ WC : 1.8k (1793)

⪩⪨ WARNINGS : unprotected sex, dom!hoon, sub! reader, marking, teasing, riding, spitting, super messy, pet names (baby, doll, pretty), creampie, use of weed/marijuana, getting high, high sex. lmk if i missed anything !!

⪩⪨ AUTHOR’S NOTE : not proofread !! a lil request from my beloved josie, @pprodsuga don’t kill me if it didn’t reach your standard... not too proud of it myself but i tried my best 4 u. reblogs and feedback appreciated!

The clock strikes two am as you swing open the door for your boyfriend. You had asked him to come over, unable to sleep and preferring his company to a string of text messages.

“Hi, baby” Sunghoon mutters as he steps inside, his hands naturally finding their way to your waist. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt, carrying a bag that promises relaxation for the both of you. Despite the late hour and the knowledge that you really shouldn’t be doing this, you shamelessly let your eyes wander over him.

Sunghoon smirks as he follows your gaze, clearly noticing your appraisal. “Didn't know you were this confident, pretty” he teases, his voice a low murmur as you close the door and bolt it shut.

You throw him a playful glare, retorting, “Learned from the best” You can’t help but think of all the times Sunghoon has blatantly checked you out, often accompanied by the click of his tongue in approval.

As you walk into the living room, his hand rests comfortably on the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a table lamp casting a warm, intimate light. You both sink into the plush sofa, the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with the faint aroma of your home.

Sunghoon sets his bag on the coffee table, revealing a small stash of marijuana and a couple of pre-rolled joints. He raises an eyebrow at you, silently asking for your permission. With a sigh, you nod, knowing that despite the hour, this is exactly what you both need to unwind.

He lights a joint, taking a slow drag before passing it to you. The smoke curls lazily in the air, and you take a tentative puff, the familiar sensation instantly soothing your nerves. Sunghoon watches you with a lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded with contentment as you hand it back to him.

“C’mere, doll” he says, the palm of his hand patting his thigh in an inviting gesture. His eyes twinkle with a mix of mischief and warmth. You give him a suspicious look, eyebrows raised, but the hint of a smile plays on your lips. After a moment’s hesitation, you comply, moving over to seat yourself straddling him. The motion is slow, almost teasing, as you settle onto his lap.

He laughs at the face you made, a deep, rumbling sound that resonates through his chest. His hand comes up, tapping your ass lightly as you get comfortable. There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes, matched by the playful curve of his lips.

“Not going to stick a knife down your throat” he tells you, his voice laced with playful accusation. The way he looks at you, though, is anything but threatening; it’s tender and teasing all at once.

You roll your eyes at him, reaching over to take the joint from his fingers. Before he can say anything more, you push it back between his lips, urging him to take a drag. He complies, taking a deep puff and then exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. His eyes never leave yours, locked in a steady, almost hypnotic gaze.

“Fuck the knife, Hoon” you murmur, your voice slightly fuzzy from the effects of the smoke. “You’re rock hard” The words slip out, bold and unfiltered, as you feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you.

He puffs out another cloud of smoke, his eyes darkening with desire. “Can’t help it when you’re around” he replies, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone. His hands slide up your sides, fingers trailing over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You lean in closer, your breath mingling with his, the scent of the joint and something distinctly him filling your senses. “What are you going to do about it?” you challenge, your lips brushing against his as you speak.

A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. “Oh, you have no idea” he murmurs before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you’re both lost in the intensity of the moment. You feel the taste of the joint through the kiss as he pushes his tongue into your mouth; getting messy really quick.

As you both pull away from the kiss, Sunghoon picks up the joint again, taking a slow drag. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of desire and amusement. He tilts his head back, letting out a plume of smoke that swirls lazily in the dim light. You lean in, pressing your lips to his neck, starting to suck gently at first, then more insistently. Your hips begin to move, grinding against his clothed erection, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You can feel the slickness of your arousal soaking through your panties, the sensation making you bolder.

Sunghoon groans at the feeling, a deep, guttural sound that sends a shiver down your spine. Encouraged, you grind faster, your movements becoming more urgent. One of his hands rests on your hip, guiding your movements, while the other trails up your back, fingers splayed wide as if he wants to feel every inch of you. He pulls you away from his now marked neck, his eyes dark and intense as they meet yours. You look slightly fucked out, eyes droopy and hazy, lips parted as you pant softly.

He brings the joint to your lips, and you take a drag, the smoke filling your lungs and adding to the heady mix of sensations. As you release the smoke, your hands come up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. “Eager, aren’t you, baby?” he asks, his voice saccharine sweet, dripping with condescension and desire.

You release the smoke from your mouth, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. “All your fault!” you retort, your voice a sultry purr as you grind harder against him. The pleasurable pressure building inside you is almost unbearable, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you.

Sunghoon’s grip on your hip tightens, and he lets out a low growl. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his free hand sliding down to cup your ass, squeezing firmly. He pulls you against him, his own hips beginning to move in rhythm with yours. The friction between your bodies is electric, each grind bringing you closer to the edge.

You lean in, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, your tongues tangling as your hips continue their dance. His hands are everywhere, roaming over your body, stoking the fire inside you. You break the kiss, gasping for air, and he takes the opportunity to trail his lips down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging lightly as he nips at your collarbone, the sharp sensation sending jolts of pleasure through you. “Please” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing.

He looks up at you, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Please what?” he teases, his hand slipping under your shirt to trace patterns on your skin.

“Please, I need more, can’t just fucking cum in my shorts” you breathe out, your desperation evident in your voice.

Sunghoon’s eyes darken, and he lets out a low chuckle. “Yeah? Then why don’t we remove them? Wan’ my dick don’t you? Dirty girl” he rasps, hands roaming around your body, exploring and teasing until he finds the hem of your t-shirt, swiftly taking it off you. You shiver as the cold air hits your skin, top half only left in a baby blue bra.

Sunghoon lets you get up for a second, as you immediately pull down your shorts and drenched panties, the wetness trickling down your thighs. Sunghoon watches you while pulling down his sweatpants, boxers leaving him completely bare.

You stare at his hard dick without a second thought, mind high and mouth watering at the sight.

“God you’re so wet” he whispers, eyes closed shut as he pulls you down onto to his cock, red tip entering your wet folds. You let out a loud, choked moan as he enters you inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. The feeling of the weed you just smoked mixing in with the sudden burst of pleasure only drove you insane.

“Open,” Sunghoon commands, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. He grips your chin firmly, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he forces your mouth open. You comply immediately, eyes widening as he spits inside, the warm liquid landing on your tongue. At the same moment, he thrusts upward, his cock driving deep into you, hitting spots that make your body shudder.

“Swallow” he orders, his eyes locked onto yours, a predatory gleam in his gaze. You obey, the taste mingling with the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, seeking stability as he pounds into you from below, each thrust a powerful jolt that seems to rearrange your insides.

Sunghoon's grip tightens as his hands slide down to your ass, fingers digging into your flesh. He spreads you open, giving himself better access as he pulls you down onto his cock, meeting each upward thrust with a force that has you seeing stars. The combination of his rough handling and the relentless pace he sets leaves you breathless, lost in the intoxicating blend of pleasure and submission.

His rhythm is relentless, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Your moans and gasps mix with his grunts, creating arousing noises. Sunghoon’s control over you is absolute, his dominance only breaking you apart further.

As he continues to thrust into you, his movements grow more urgent, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through you. He lets go to your hips as he lets you set the pace now, bouncing on his cock endlessly.

“Don’t stop” he growls, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. You nod, too consumed by the pleasure to form coherent words.

“So good!—fuck! hoon, gonna c-cum” you moan out with a loud shriek as you squirt all over over, covering his dick thighs in complete white. You halt your hips but Sunghoon still fucks up into you, his hands spreading your cum all over your ass cheeks.

You’re completely out of it, dazed until he shoots his orgasm up your cunt again, which only resulted in it leaking out. “Shit—!, god pretty, you okay?” he checks up on you, even though he’s panting and breathing heavily, your bodies pressed close together.

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you nod with a smile, kissing his neck. He smiles back at you, holding you even tighter as you both lay still. Until you have to clean up that is.

[pandapetals]

Pet Names

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

You try to find a cute nickname for Logan much to his dismay.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

"You call me 'sweetheart' and 'darlin’' all the time," you pointed out, glancing up at Logan with a teasing smile as you leaned against the kitchen counter. "Why can’t I call you something cute, like 'honey' or 'baby'?"

Logan, who was in the middle of pouring himself a cup of coffee, shook his head with a small, huff. "Because I’m not a baby," he replied, his tone making it clear he wasn’t having any of it. "And I sure as hell ain’t 'honey.' I’m not some kinda—" He paused, waving a hand vaguely. "—sweet thing."

You bit back a laugh, leaning closer to him with a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Alright, fine. How about 'pumpkin'?" you suggested, your voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness. "Or maybe 'snuggle bear'? You know, ‘cause you’re all cuddly on the inside."

Logan shot you a deadpan look over the rim of his coffee mug. "Try that in front of anyone else and I’ll pretend I don’t know you," he grumbled, though there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, come on," you protested, giving him a playful nudge with your hip. "You’re making this really difficult. What if I just call you 'Logie'?"

His brows furrowed, and he set his mug down with a dramatic groan. "Absolutely not," he said, the firmness in his voice almost convincing. "The day you call me 'Logie' is the day I start callin’ you 'Mrs. Grumpy' in front of the whole team."

You gasped in mock horror, placing a hand over your heart. "You wouldn’t dare," you said, your voice a mixture of amusement and challenge.

Logan leaned in, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of mischief. "Try me," he murmured, the roughness in his voice doing nothing to hide the affection there.

You crossed your arms and tilted your head, refusing to back down. "Fine," you said with a playful pout. "Then what do you want me to call you? Something rugged and manly, I’m guessing? Like…" You tapped a finger to your chin, pretending to think. "How about 'Wolverine, Slayer of Ruggedness'?"

He snorted, shaking his head as he tried—and failed—to hide the grin spreading across his face. "Now you’re just makin’ stuff up."

"Well, you’re not giving me much to work with, darlin’," you quipped, mimicking the way he always said it to you. "I’m just trying to be affectionate, you know. It wouldn’t kill you to let me."

Logan’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand coming up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. "You don’t need some silly name to show me that," he said quietly, his voice losing some of its usual gruffness. "I already know."

For a moment, the playful banter faded into a softer silence, and you felt your heart do a little flip at the look in his eyes. But the moment didn’t last long—Logan leaned back with a small, teasing smirk.

"Still not lettin’ you call me 'snuggle bear,' though," he added, his tone gruff but fond.

You laughed, reaching up to tug lightly on his shirt. "Fine, how about just 'Logan,' then?" you said with a grin. "Or does that need your approval too, Mr. Tough Guy?"

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him as his smirk deepened. "I suppose I can live with 'Logan,'" he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead. "As long as you don’t start gettin’ any ideas about 'snuggle bear' on the sly."

"Deal," you whispered, smiling up at him as you rested your hands on his chest. "But you’ll always be my tough guy… even if you secretly are a little cuddly on the inside."

Logan let out a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "You keep tellin’ yourself that, darlin’," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "But if I catch you slippin' up and callin' me 'honey' in public, we’re gonna have words."

You just grinned, letting yourself enjoy the warmth of being wrapped up in his arms. "We’ll see," you teased. "You might just grow to like it."

Logan gave you a skeptical look but didn’t pull away, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you’d find a pet name he didn’t hate—even if it took a while to wear him down. 

[imonanotherlebel]

Gentle Love - Jacaerys Velaryon

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Reader

Any Fire and Blood / HOTD fans?

------------------------------

Genre : Romance, Smut

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, kissing, penetrative sex, oral fem receiving, virginity

------------------------------

The grand hall of the Red Keep was alive with celebration, the echoes of laughter and music filling the air as the wedding festivities for the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms continued late into the night. The union between Jacaerys Velaryon, the future heir to the Iron Throne, and the reader, a noblewoman of high standing, was a momentous occasion. It was a match that had been anticipated for years, ever since their betrothal was announced when they were both very young.

Though their marriage had been arranged, there was genuine affection between you and Jacaerys. Over the years, you had grown close, sharing stolen moments in the gardens of Dragonstone and long conversations by the fire during the cold winters. Jacaerys was a man of duty, but he had always treated you with kindness and respect, valuing your opinions and cherishing your presence. As the years passed, your bond deepened, evolving from a tentative friendship into something much stronger, a love that neither of you had expected but were grateful to have found.

Tonight, that bond was to be consummated, sealing your union not just in the eyes of the realm, but in the eyes of the gods as well. The thought made your heart race with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you stood at the center of the hall, surrounded by the revelry.

Jacaerys was by your side, his hand resting lightly on your back as he engaged in conversation with the lords and ladies who had come to celebrate your wedding. He looked every bit the prince he was, tall and regal in his dark attire, his dark hair falling in soft waves that framed his handsome face. There was a warmth in his dark eyes as he glanced over at you, a reassuring smile playing on his lips that made your heart flutter.

As the evening wore on, the mood in the hall grew more raucous, the guests well into their cups and eager for the next part of the night's events-the bedding ceremony. The air was thick with anticipation, the guests exchanging knowing glances and ribald jokes as they waited for the signal to begin.

Finally, Lord Corlys Velaryon raised his goblet, his booming voice cutting through the din. "To the bedding!" he declared, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

A cheer went up from the crowd, and before you could react, you felt hands tugging at the laces of your gown. Laughter echoed around you as the guests moved in, eager to carry you off to the marriage bed. But before they could pull you away, Jacaerys stepped forward, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as he gently but firmly held the crowd at bay.

"Easy, my friends," he said with a laugh, his voice carrying a note of authority that made the guests pause. "There is no need to rush. We will see to this ourselves."

There was a murmur of surprise, but the guests quickly acquiesced, stepping back with playful grins and nods of approval. They respected Jacaerys too much to challenge him, and besides, there was something endearing about the way he was so protective of his new wife.

With the crowd giving you some space, Jacaerys turned to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he looked into your eyes, his expression softening. "Are you alright?" he asked, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

You nodded, grateful for his intervention. "Thank you, Jace," you murmured, leaning into his touch.

He smiled, a tender expression that made your heart swell with affection. "There is no need to thank me, my love. I would never let them take you from me."

With that, he took your hand, leading you through the throng of well-wishers and up the winding staircase to your chambers. The journey was a blur, your heart pounding in your chest as the reality of what was about to happen began to sink in. You had been waiting for this night for so long, and now that it was here, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

As you reached the door to your chambers, Jacaerys paused, turning to face you. His eyes were filled with a tender warmth as he took both of your hands in his. "I know this is a momentous night," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "But I want you to know that we don't have to rush anything. We will go at your pace."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man you had married. "I trust you, Jace," you whispered, squeezing his hands in reassurance.

He nodded, his expression softening even further. "As do I, with all my heart," he replied, before opening the door and leading you into the room.

The chamber was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the warm, flickering flames casting a golden hue over the rich tapestries and the large bed that dominated the center of the room. The bed was draped in silks and furs, a testament to the luxury and status that came with being the future king and queen.

Jacaerys closed the door behind you, the sound of the revelry outside fading into the background, leaving the two of you in a cocoon of intimacy. For a moment, you both stood there, taking in the enormity of the moment, the weight of your new titles, and the future that lay ahead of you.

Sensing your nervousness, Jacaerys walked over to the table where a decanter of wine sat waiting. He poured two goblets, handing one to you before downing his own in a single, practiced motion. The sight made you giggle, the sound breaking the tension in the air.

He smiled sheepishly, setting his empty goblet aside. "A little liquid courage never hurts," he said with a wink, his playful demeanor putting you at ease.

You took a sip of your own wine, the rich, sweet flavor calming your nerves as you watched him. There was something reassuring about the way he moved, the way he smiled at you, as if he was determined to make this night as comfortable and special as possible.

Setting your goblet down, you took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, your fingers brushing against the fastenings of his doublet. "Shall we begin?" you asked softly, your eyes meeting his.

Jacaerys's expression softened, his hands coming up to gently cradle your face as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was slow and tender, a promise of what was to come, as his lips moved against yours with a gentle insistence that made your heart race.

As the kiss deepened, you felt his hands begin to move, his fingers deftly working to undo the laces of your gown. The fabric loosened and fell away, sliding down your shoulders to pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your thin chemise. The cool air of the room brushed against your skin, but the heat of Jacaerys's gaze was all you felt as he stepped back to take you in, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You are breathtaking," he murmured, his voice husky as he reached out to run his hands over your bare shoulders, down your arms, and around your waist, pulling you close.

Your breath hitched as you felt the hard planes of his body press against yours, the evidence of his desire clear as he held you close. His lips found yours again, this time more insistent, as he backed you towards the bed, his hands never ceasing their exploration of your body.

The bed hit the back of your knees, and you tumbled onto the soft mattress, Jacaerys following you down. He hovered over you, his dark hair falling around his face as he looked down at you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached for the hem of your chemise, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you completely bare beneath him. His eyes roved over your body, his hands following the path of his gaze as he explored every inch of you, his touch both reverent and possessive.

"You are mine," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet determination as he leaned down to press a kiss to your collarbone, then lower, his lips tracing a path down your body.

You shivered under his touch, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair as he worshipped your body with his lips and hands. He took his time, savouring the feel of your skin beneath his fingers, the taste of you on his tongue, until you were trembling with need, your body aching for more.

Finally, unable to wait any longer, Jacaerys pulled back, his hands moving to undo the laces of his own breeches. You watched, your breath catching in your throat as he stripped off the last of his clothing, revealing the hard lines of his body, the muscles rippling under his skin as he moved to join you on the bed.

He settled between your legs, his hand sliding up your thigh to part your folds, his fingers brushing against your core with a touch that made you gasp. He teased you, his fingers circling your sensitive nub, before sliding into you with a slow, steady motion that had you arching into him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he worked you with a skill that only a husband who knew your body intimately could possess.

The pleasure built slowly, a steady crescendo that had you writhing beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy, only to pull back at the last moment, leaving you trembling with need.

"Jace, please," you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper as the tension within you became unbearable.

Jacaerys smiled down at you, his expression one of tender affection mixed with desire. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "Patience, my love," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I want to savour every moment of this."

His words were filled with a promise, and though your body screamed for release, you nodded, trusting him completely. Jacaerys's hand slid back down to your core, his fingers slipping inside you once more, this time with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you gasping for breath. Each stroke was measured, the pads of his fingers pressing against that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more, and he obliged, quickening his pace just enough to drive you closer to the edge. His thumb brushed over your sensitive nub, the added stimulation sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body that had you clenching around his fingers, your release just out of reach.

Sensing your need, Jacaerys leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his fingers worked you with expert precision. The kiss was a heady mix of passion and desperation, your mouths moving against each other with a hunger that matched the intensity building inside you. You could taste the wine on his lips, mingling with the salt of your shared sweat, a potent combination that only heightened the urgency of the moment.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were red and swollen from the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at you with a fierce determination. "You're mine," he growled once more, his voice thick with emotion as he removed his fingers from your heat, leaving you feeling empty and bereft for the briefest moment.

Before you could protest, he positioned himself at your entrance, his hard length pressing against your core, the tip just barely breaching you. He paused, his eyes locking with yours as he waited for your nod of approval. When you gave it, his lips quirked up in a soft smile, and with one fluid motion, he thrust into you, filling you completely.

The sensation was overwhelming, the stretch of him inside you both painful and pleasurable as your body adjusted to his size. He stilled for a moment, giving you time to acclimate, his hands bracing on either side of your head as he gazed down at you with an intensity that took your breath away.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he searched your face for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him down for another kiss, your lips moving against his with a fervour that left no doubt of your desire. "I'm more than alright," you whispered against his lips, your words punctuated by a roll of your hips that had him groaning in response.

Taking that as his cue, Jacaerys began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. He set a steady rhythm, the friction between your bodies building with each movement, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

As the pleasure mounted, his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder, more desperate, as he chased his own release. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, the connection between you deeper than just the physical act, as if your very souls were entwined in this moment of pure ecstasy.

You could feel the coil of pleasure tightening in your core, the pressure building to a crescendo that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion. Sensing your impending release, Jacaerys shifted his angle, his hips snapping forward with a precision that had him hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, sending you hurtling over the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cried out his name, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

The feeling of you tightening around him was Jacaerys's undoing, and with a few more frantic thrusts, he found his own release, spilling into you with a guttural groan. He collapsed onto you, his weight a comforting presence as you both struggled to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your shared pleasure still rippling through your bodies.

For a long moment, you lay there together, the world outside forgotten as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. Jacaerys's hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet reverence that made your heart swell with emotion.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice equally soft as you turned your head to look up at him, your eyes meeting his in a gaze that spoke volumes of the love and devotion you felt for him.

With a contented sigh, Jacaerys rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so that you were nestled against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a state of blissful contentment, the worries of the world outside your chamber forgotten in the safety of his embrace.

As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but smile, your heart full of love and hope for the future. You had married the man you loved, and though the road ahead would no doubt be filled with challenges, you knew that as long as you had Jacaerys by your side, there was nothing you couldn't face together.

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

[muddyorbsblr]

bad feeling

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki's entrance into the Avengers Compound depends on your approval

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warning/s: minor character that's teeming with douchebag energy and doesn't age check before sliding into the DMs; language (nope still not sorry, Rogers); my rusty af writing (it's been months and honestly this might be cringe but if it is don't tell me i'm sensitive--) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: metahuman Reader in denial; instalove trope alert (i didn't think i'd ever be writing that but here we are)

"Brother, this is truly unnecessary," Loki groaned, fighting every urge to drag his feet as his brother led him down the halls of the Avengers Compound, avoiding the mix of curious and alarmed stares from the Midgardians donning near-identical jumpsuits. "Rogers' begrudging approval of your truly asinine idea was enough, you need not lead introductions. I am quite sure that Stark and the rest of your comrades have not forgotten who I am."

Thor simply rolled his eyes in response. "Of course they have not forgotten, Brother, but we have had quite the number of newcomers, and I will run not the risk of them reacting with hostility if they cross paths with you. So I shall conduct a simple extemporized introductory session with them so they may…acclimate to your presence in the Compound. And not think it a clandestine invasion and trigger a security lockdown."

As if right on cue, two faces, one familiar and the other quite new to the god of mischief approached, the sounds of their jovial exchange coming to a deadening halt. The smiles on their faces quickly morphed into furrowed brows and battle stances. "Thor, why have you brought him here?" the woman with auburn hair questioned, a red energy that he recognized as Chaos Magic forming in her hands while her companion, Romanoff, looked ready to strike.

"Please, stand down, my friends." The blond god held his hands up in front of them. "He means no harm, I promise you. I've brought him here so that perhaps he could join--"

"Not a fucking chance, Barbie," Romanoff seethed. "I still remember the mind job he did--Wanda what are you doing? Why are you actually listening--"

"Because some time ago I did what you call a 'mind job' on the rest of you," she answered the former Russian spy simply, standing down and waving her magic away. "And now here I get to stand, calling you all my friends. Because you forgave me for my misdeeds. Gave me a second chance. I think we should all extend the same kindness now."

"I commend the way you think, Maximoff," Rogers' voice echoed across the common area, bystanders not so subtly beginning to crowd the area surrounding them, only parting to let the super soldier through and take his stance in the middle of the group. "Much as I'm not the biggest fan of Mister Leather and Metal 'you will all kneel before me', Wanda's right." He took a step back and addressed the room. "Everyone, Loki will be joining us for the foreseeable future. I expect you all to make an effort to help him adjust to his new life here on Earth. Or at least not get in his way. Now, back to work. All of you."

The curious agents all scattered about, returning to their tasks prior to the Asgardian brothers arriving.

"Thank you, Steven," Thor spoke up once the bystanders made themselves scarce. "You will not regret--"

"Not so fast, Odinson." Rogers threw his hand up, stopping his brother's words short. "I want him to meet Y/L/N first. If she says he won't give us any grief, then he can stay. She says no? You'll have to find another place to park your brother."

"Hey--!" Loki fought back the urge to throw a dagger in the soldier's direction. "I am not some meager property that needs to be set down--"

"If you would rather Strange lock you back in an eternal fall, that can be arranged," he shot back, the muscles in his jaw twitching in a telltale sign that he was fighting back a smug grin. He motioned toward the interrogation area, showing the way. "Meet Y/L/N, and we'll go from there."

Thor led the way further into the Compound and past the common area, the temperature dropping significantly and impelling the god to cast an enchantment that would raise his core temperature so as to not trigger his Jotun form to emerge. "Apologies, Brother," he spoke as they made their way down the hall. "There have been suspicions that an intern for one of SHIELD's departments has been a HYDRA operative attempting to pilfer data to fuel some form of invasion. This individual is in one of the interrogation rooms now awaiting Y/N's arrival, and the temperature was her idea. Put the young man in a sense of high discomfort to lower his guards."

"Have him focus on making his body cope with the temperature rather than his mind on deflecting her queries," he surmised, nodding his head as they stepped into the viewing area, laying eyes on the clearly novice employee in that same jumpsuit the others wore outside. His breathing was jittery and labored, rubbing his hands furiously to generate even some form of heat. It wouldn't be difficult to break through his defenses. "She's a clever one, that mortal. Though I could save you all the interrogation and read the lad's mind--"

"No no," Thor waved him off, motioning for him to look into the room once more. "I want you to see her at work. It's rather fascinating watching her work, and the machination of her mind is rather…perplexing."

"Should we be contacting one Doctor Foster to inform her of his…fascination of yours, Brother?" he gibed, raising an eyebrow in suspicion and finding himself a touch more curious when Thor simply laughed off the question.

"My heart is Jane's and Jane's alone, Brother. You know this," he answered, giving his brother a pointed look. Guilt sat heavily on his heart, knowing full well the words that the god of thunder chose to omit. Considering that I destroyed the Bifrost just to protect her from you.

It would take time before amends were made for making that particular threat, no matter how empty it truly was.

Before Loki could say anything, the door on the other side of the two-way mirror opened, a hard-faced Agent Romanoff entering the room and taking the seat opposite the suspected traitor. She made a point to shrug off her jacket and bare her arms, the action making the young man's face twist in derision, undoubtedly because it challenged his quite fragile ego even more.

"I have nothing to say to you," he said, the shaking tone of his voice betraying him. "Why aren't you cold? You all did something to me, didn't you? Made your freaky witch friend cast some curse on me?"

Romanoff leaned back against her chair, her smirk growing as his scowl deepened. "Where I was from, this is what summer felt like," she shot back casually, keeping her tone even despite the bold-faced lie. "And I don't need you to say anything." She jutted her chin in the direction of the door, a proud look on her face as you walked in to the room. "I just need her to look at you."

"Mister Park…" you droned, taking your time to cross the distance from the door to the cold metal desk. "I'm Agent Y/L/N, I'll be your interrogator."

You leaned in to the edge of the table, gripping the corners. Your body stiffened for a few seconds as you took a sharp breath, adjusting to the frigid cold. There was a distant, calculating, enigmatic smile on your face as your eyes roamed his features. Almost as if you were picking away at the fragments of his protective shell, exposing the answers he refused to give with just that one look.

It was a sight that was all too familiar to him. Something his mother would use on suspected traitors to the Realm back in Asgard. Perhaps that was what you were doing, after all. Or perhaps it was a well-crafted facade. Something that Romanoff or another former spy within SHIELD's ranks had taught you to unnerve its recipient.

"Like I told Agent Hot Stuff over there, I have nothing to say to any of you," he sneered.

"And like Agent Romanoff told you, we don't need you to say anything. All you have to do…is sit there." You squinted your eyes at him, sighing deeply as you said the words that apparently cemented the suspected traitor's fate. "I've got a bad feeling about you." You leaned in close, invading his personal space and making him even more visibly uneasy, not even bothering to mask how his body was shaking. "Nice contacts."

In a heartbeat, Agent Romanoff leaned across the desk and grasped the bottom of the apparently confirmed traitor's face, the man they called Park now wincing and groaning in even more discomfort as she inspected his eyes. "Implants?" she asked you.

"Seems buddy boy here's really committed to the cause," you remarked, mocking their organization's salute. "Helium Hydrogen or some shit."

Park slammed his fists down on the table, neither woman even flinching at the outburst. As if you both saw it coming. "It's Heil Hydra, you stupid bitch!" he screamed, fighting against Romanoff's hold and trying to stand up from his seat to charge at you.

You, however, simply responded with a self-satisfied grin as you called out toward the other side of the door, "And there's our verbal confirmation! Lock 'im up." And just to goad the traitorous intern on further, you ruffled his hair and looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Thank you for your cooperation."

Right as you said the words, Rogers burst into the room along with two other agents, flanking him and restricting his movement so he couldn't charge at anyone in the room. "Put him in the holding cells until transport gets here," he instructed the agents, who simply nodded and walked the traitor out of the room.

You and Romanoff turned off the lights and walked out arm in arm. Loki caught a smidgen of your conversation about meeting the significant other of another new Avenger. Something about "earning your stamp of approval".

"What did I tell you, Brother?" Thor prompted, nudging his arm.

"Fascinating," he mumbled, unable to wipe the image of that enigmatic smile of yours from his mind. Wondering what you looked like when you were genuinely beaming at something. Or someone. "It seems she's somewhat telepathically inclined."

"That is what many of us have been trying to tell her, but she refuses to listen. Insists that she is simply better inclined at reading others from her years of dreadfully flawed relationships of 'every kind'," he explained, leading him down the same hallway that you and Romanoff had disappeared to moments ago. "Repeatedly tells us that her most effective and only teacher has been, in her words, her life's revolving door of shitty people."

"And Rogers wishes for me to meet this Y/N so that she may what? Approve of my being here? He defers to her when it comes to newcomers in your merry band of his realm's mightiest heroes?" He tried to mask his curiosity with his signature smarm, trying to seem disinterested in what seemed like an initiation rite.

But in truth he was all the more looking forward to being face to face with you.

"She has not yet been incorrect in the years that I have known her. And you have nothing to fret about, Brother. You will make a fine addition to this team," the blond said proudly, both of them finally arriving to the considerably warmer common area. Loki finally lifted his enchantment, no longer concerned of his Jotun form emerging as his brother raised his hand and called out in your direction, "Y/N! I have returned from Asgard and there is someone I wish for you to meet--"

"In a minute, Barbie. Carter's bringing in her latest beau. Something about her wanting me to have a read on him before she gets too invested," you answered him, throwing your hand up in their direction. You threw a cursory glance their way, barely registering the raven-haired god, before returning your gaze to the door where another unfamiliar face walked in, arm in arm with a man whose entire aura screamed 'philanderer'.

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet Nathan. Nathan, sweetie, this is my friend--"

"Wow you're stunning," the man said, raising his hand in front of him, seemingly to shake yours. But the positioning seemed…off. As if he were to turn your hand and kiss the back of it the second you even brought yours a fraction of an inch upward.

One look into this Nathan's thoughts all but confirmed it. Along with all the other deplorable indiscretions he had stacked against him.

If the god's suspicions were right and you truly were telepathically inclined, you would see those indiscretions, too. With the right guidance, you could explore the true scope of your abilities. Perhaps even advance them.

Your unmoving stance brought along a disquiet to your friend's features, her smile fading into a grim line as her eyes drooped and her posture slumped. She'd seen this reaction from you before, and she seemed to already brace herself for your next words.

"I've got a bad feeling about you," you said in an ominous tone, standing at your full height before tilting your head slightly. From where he stood, Loki could see the man grow visibly anxious, his pulse quickening and beating furiously against his neck.

"What--Why what'd you see?" your friend croaked out, fighting back sobs.

You chose to instead address the deplorable excuse of a man. "You checked out no less than three women since you walked through the front door, and at least twice you wondered if any of them would be down for a threesome. You have a secret social media account that you use to sext other women and send them your dick pics, ohh and by the way…that pump that you're using? Doesn't do shit."

The god had never seen someone's complexion visibly pale until now, Nathan losing all color in his face as if he'd been drained of blood. "You--You d-don't know what you're talking about, you fucking freak!" He looked to Carter, his eyes rife with panic. "Babe, your weird friend here's just pulling this all out of her ass, she's lying--"

His paltry laughable excuses were cut off with a chorus of hissing sounds and "ooh"s and "yikes" from your team, as if his words were so offensive they physically stung. Stark spoke up, clapping his hand down on the man's shoulder. "Now see here, Rudolph the horny reindeer, you've made at least five mistakes since you stepped through that door. But calling Y/N here a liar? Yeah, that dug your grave, dick for brains."

"Well then she's wrong!" he whined, grabbing for his lover's hands and holding on with a death grip. "Baby, you know me, I'm your pookie bear. I would never hurt you--"

"Oof goddamn now I wish I was lying," you quipped, a mixture of surprise and disgust coloring your features. "You couldn't waterboard that nickname out of me. Maybe try going for something that doesn't sound like a name a toddler would give a stuffed animal for the next one? You probably have her all lined up, right? Somewhere in all those DMs and FaceApp'd shrimpy photoshoots?" You took a step closer, not seeming to care about how his free hand was clenched so tightly into a fist that it began to shake. "By the way, I hope you age checked those girls. I'll give you two pieces of free advice. First? Age of consent in New York is seventeen. Second? Don't treat it like a damn target."

Your friend Carter finally jerked her hand out of his and struck him across the face, the sound reverberating through the common area. Stark raised his brows and nodded at her in approval, making a remark about how he wished he had some popcorn.

"It's over," she told him. "I don't ever want to hear from you again." Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she said the words and motioned toward the same door they walked through just minutes before.

"I'm not going anywhere," he insisted, acting like a misbehaving toddler and stomping his foot. "Why would you even believe this freaky little bitch over your own boyfriend, I thought we had some--"

"Because we trust her, cradle robber. And to this day she's never been wrong about a damn thing," Stark sniped, walking over and putting himself between you and the increasingly belligerent Nathan. He placed a tablet in Carter's hands. "I took the liberty of getting into his second account and sending screenshots of his messages to…well, just about everyone in his contacts list. But I figured you ought to see it and scroll through the messages first hand, Sharon."

At this moment, Loki caught another glimpse into the philandering man's mind, seeing a vision of him intending to attack you and strangle you with his bare hands. And just as the god suspected, you had glimpsed the same thought running through his mind, side stepping out of the way just before Nathan could get a hold of you. He watched with more than mild amusement as Thor stepped forward next and grabbed the whining man by the back of his shirt and lifting him into the air.

"Any mortal capable of even the tiniest amount of coherent thought would know better than to attack my friends," the blond said in a low, authoritative tone that eerily reminded Loki of their father. He promptly walked Nathan to the same door that he and Carter had walked through; Loki could see that his brother was physically fighting the urge to give the impudent puny mortal a swift kick to his rear as he gave him a nudge out of the premises.

"Thank you, Barbie," you spoke, an equally amused look on your face after witnessing the whole ordeal. "Always knew it was a good idea to have an Asgardian bouncer guard dog around."

Once Thor had made his way back to you and the rest of the team, you and he grasped each other's forearms. A show of respect that the blond oaf usually only had reserved for his closest comrades, the Warriors Four. Only recently had he even done that with Loki, and while the god of mischief would never admit it aloud, the gesture had him fighting back that traitorous prickling in the backs of his eyes.

"Speaking of having Asgardians in the Compound, there is someone I wish for you to meet, Lady Y/N," he spoke, motioning toward his brother. You tilted your head, a smile so starkly different from the one you had in the interrogation room brightening your features the moment your eyes met Loki's. "This is my brother, and he could be quite an invaluable asset to the team."

"With your go ahead, Agent Y/L/N," Rogers spoke from his seat, intently watching the scene play out before him. Once again agents had begun to crowd around them, completely halting their movements to bear witness. "Like Stark said, we trust you."

You barely gave a response, the only indicator that you'd even heard Rogers' words being a slight jut of your chin in his direction. Loki took your considerably smaller outstretched hand in his, taking every bit of his strength to stay upright as the visions bombarded his mind. The smallest gasp slipped from your lips. You took a moment to compose yourself before you spoke, addressing the team.

"All clear, he can stay," you announced, a boisterous whoop coming from Thor the second you gave your judgment. Neither of you made a move to let go of the other's hand.

"Okay not to take a page out of your book here, jellybean, but…" Stark spoke, breaking you two out of your own little bubble. He pointed his finger back and forth between you and the raven-haired god. "I've got a bad feeling about the two of you."

Stop smiling, you literal idiot, you chided yourself as you paced the floor of your apartment. There was no logical reason to even be thinking of the new member of the team now that you weren't around him, and yet you couldn't get the jet black-haired Asgardian dressed in dark emerald leather out of your mind.

The bar must have been in hell if all it took to get you to actually smile was the fact that the second you two met eyes, no alarm bells went off the way that they did for that newbie traitor…or Sharon's now ex boyfriend. The only hunch that you got looking at him was that he was definitely there to watch the interrogation and trying to figure out how you clocked the iris implants on Park.

"Maybe if he figures it out, he could clue me in on it, too, because I don't have the foggiest fucking idea where that came from," you muttered into the emptiness. And then like clockwork, you found yourself thinking about his blinding brilliant smile again.

And the way his hand completely dwarfed yours.

And how even in those few moments in the common room, being around him for some reason blanketed you in this feeling as if, for the first time in a long time, you didn't have to be as careful anymore. Like you no longer had to constantly be looking over your shoulder because someone might actually have your back and--

"Now you're just being ridiculous, Y/N," you grumbled at yourself, staring down your reflection. "How many times have you had your heart shattered from trusting too easily? Feeling safe around him is exactly why you shouldn't feel safe, why is it that for all the people that trust your instincts, you can't seem to listen to them yourself? And have I lost my freaking mind I am talking to my own--"

Knock knock knock

The sound came from your front door, snapping you out of your rant. "Who in the fuck?"

A lump formed in your throat when you opened the door, looking up at the exact stormy blue eyes that refused to leave your mind since you met him a little over an hour ago. The ones that made a question form in your mind that you couldn't bring yourself to voice out.

Why do I have a good feeling about you?

"Loki…" you said his name slowly, trying your best to ignore how bizarrely right it felt to say it. As if you were meant to. As if you were going to say it -- scream it, even -- for years to come.

"Good evening, Y/N." What you couldn't ignore was how the sound of your name from his lips made your knees want to buckle. "I wish to speak to you about something that I saw when I touched your hand earlier. A vision. Of the future."

The lump in your throat suddenly got bigger. "Ohh God am I gonna die? Soon? Because if I am I don't want spoilers, not even hints, what's gonna happen is gonna--"

"I saw us," he cut you off, reaching for your hands and rubbing circles on the inside of your wrists. "Years of stolen glances and missed opportunities and unsaid words. And it was only at the brink of losing you forever that I finally would find the courage to tell you of my affections."

There were no words, all you could do was blink at him as you tried to process his words. Looking desperately for the telltale signs that there was a disconnect between what he was saying and what his actual intentions were for coming to you like this. The disconnect that was present with most men that you were face to face with.

And yet your intuition, that hadn't failed you for as long as you could remember, was practically squealing with glee that you could feel safe around the god.

"Why are you telling me this?" you asked him. You were surprised you could even form words. Or that you somehow managed to bite your tongue from letting slip a more abrasive question.

He stepped closer to you, a soft smile on his face as he gently framed your face with his hands. "I don't wish to spend the next years pining away and foolishly waiting for the timing to be just right. I had glimpsed our future, and it was…" His smile widened into a brilliant grin, his thumbs tracing along your cheekbones. "It was resplendent. Having even the most fleeting glimpse that what we would have, it had me awash with…peace. The kind that I had longed for for centuries."

Your breath hitched when he pressed his lips to your forehead, your heart pounding away furiously in your chest. You knew a little too well the feeling that he was describing. That feeling of peace. Of a calm quietude that put you at ease even if the world would have been crashing down around you.

That feeling like you were home.

"Now as for your unspoken question," he whispered, breath warming your skin. "Of what am I doing here…I wish to change that future. Or rather, hasten it along. If that is what you want as well, of course."

He pressed his forehead to yours, loosely wrapping his arms around you. All you could do was nod, secretly grateful that he was holding you upright because the violent fluttering in your stomach was making it hard to stand.

That feeling spread throughout your entire body like wildfire when he briefly brushed his lips against yours; you could feel how much restraint he was exerting to pull away. To test the waters. To wait for you to tell him it was alright.

And you let out the words that were fighting to break free since you first saw him earlier today. "I have a good feeling about you."

A/N: *peeks out from behind the laptop* ohai there…long time no see 🙈 Imma say it again because it bears repeating: I'm rusty as all fuck and I might be for a while, but I'm trying to get back into writing since I haven't really done much ever since starting the new job. But things are finally beginning to settle down and normalize, so I'm trying to somehow find a groove again.

I'm gonna be so real w/ y'all, the next stuff on my queue is RTC and 'the final Lady Sharpe' and with how rusty my prose feels, I'm so scared to touch them 😂

Also this is another story that was inspired by a TikTok pov trend. The one where people lip sync and act along to the song that goes "Oompa Loompa doopadeedoo I've got a bad feeling about you", as if it wasn't cringe enough 🥴🫡

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