#i almost just gave up on it to go find another one

[prettyboykatsuki]

cause we're, y'know | k. bakugou

✮ tags ; gender neutral reader, fluff, post relationship jitters, bakugou being down bad a little bit, friends to lovers. not 18+ but minors do Not follow me.

✮ wc ; 1k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @euthymiya who gave me free reign to do whatever which i used to write corny bkg fluff... thank u for commissioning me most beloved riv <3

✮ synopsis ; bringing his friend turned lover a lunchbox is normal, alright? plenty fucking normal.

Bakugou taps his fingers along the edge of the bench he's been sitting on since evening - beating to an unsteady rhythm.

He can Sero's voice in the back his hand as he squeezes the wrapped bento a little closer to his torso. The shitty, sing-song teasing lilt when you and Bakugou were less then lovers but more then friends.

And now you're lovers proper, as fucking corny as he finds it. But maybe he's not finding it corny enough because he's sitting in the lobby of your office building with a bento he made by hand. There's some chatter from strangers coming in and out of your office building - the occasional ding of elevators, the passing whistle of a janitor.

The awful, loud, no good thump of his heartbeat ricocheting against his rib cage as he goes back and forth on whether or not this shit was a good idea.

He's... fucking nervous. Which is total bullshit because he doesn't have anything to be nervous about. It's not like this is the first time you and Bakugou have ever met up to eat lunch. It was just that before, he was coming to meet you as a friend.

Some part of him is thinking, so what if he's your boyfriend? Who gives a shit, anyway?

Another part of him feels so mixed about the ordeal he sort of wants to puke.

His phone buzzes from the pocket of his pants and he grabs it - your phone and contact flashing across his screen

(sent 11:12am) coming down :]

Bakugou smiles to himself, at the stupid emoticon. He thinks about just liking your reply but before he gets the chance another text follows through.

(sent 11:12am) missed you <3

He blushes almost furiously. Partially over the text but mostly from his internal reaction. Stupid. This whole thing is so stupid. He types fast.

(sent 11:14am) hurry your ass up.

That's all he can manage to say without feeling like his chest is going to collapse in on itself. He waits another minute before he hears the elevator doors ding again - a crowd of people dispersing as the doors open. He looks for you among them.

He finds you after a minute, hand waving overhead of the sea of people. He huffs, amused at how rapidly you wave your hand, and thinks about texting you again but you're close enough that he doesn't bother.

You march towards him with a renewed vigor after you aren't lost to the sea of strangers. Bakugou snorts as you hurry your way over to him, almost seeming out of breath - like you ran to see him.

"Hey,"

"Hi!" You say, chipper as always. "You're here."

"No shit."

You laugh. He's heard it before. A hundred times, a thousand maybe. It still sounds weirdly different to him.

"Did you have anywhere in mind to eat?" You ask.

Horror dawns on him at the realization you still didn't realize what's in his hand. "I'm up for anything I think. Feeling adventurous."

Your eyes are sparkling when you ask. Bakugou freezes, blue screening momentarily before taking a breath.

He holds the boxed bento out to you sheepishly, a hand scratching the back of his neck. This is way more embarrassing then he thought it'd be.

"Fuck. Whatever. Look," He says, shaking the upset off of him with a frown. " He doesn't look up at you, doesn't even want to know what he might see. Something bright enough to fucking blind him, he's sure. "Don't say shit or I'm never making you one again."

You blink owlishly before letting your eyes flicker down again at what it's in front you. There's a beat of silence between you before Bakugou sees a grin slowly creep it's way up to your face in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

You take the wrapped bento from him, assessing the weight of it in your hand as you give it a good look. You hold it up to admire it and Bakugou feels the blush crawl further down his neck.

"Stop acting like I just handed you a diamond or some shit," Bakugou says lamely, even by his own standards. Your lips form into affectionate pout.

"You made me a bento." Your lower lip trembles all too sudden and Bakugou's eyes go wide. "I love you,"

?!

Bakugou looks at you, mouth agape. You're completely serious. Nevermind the inappropriate timing or the fact this is the first time you've expressed yourself with a word so serious. He's more concerned about the almost tears at your eyes. He pulls his sleeves over his hands to wipe them from your eyes.

"Dumbass, what are you crying about? You're still in the office, get it together."

"But I love you," You say, more whine then coherent word. Bakugou feels a headache coming on.

"Yeah I got that. Am I really such a shithead me bringing you lunch is worth sobbing over?"

"You made it for me."

"Cause I ain't no punk. Anyone can pay for you you but we're," He stops himself mid way, too embarrassed to get the rest out. "Anyways whatever. It's just lunch. I just... fuckin' realized I never made it for you. Dinner and shit is one thing but we're,"

"Dating," You finish before he can. He falls victim to more blushing.

"Yeah. Whatever. This much is pretty standard, at least." He wipes another tear off your face. It's funny. Anyone else pulled some shit like this and he'd rolls his eyes. "Stop cryin' already."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't gotta say sorry either."

"But,"

"No buts. Hurry and wipe your tears before your breaks over so you don't go all puffy eyed back in the office."

You laugh through a sniffle. "They'll think my boyfriend was being mean to me, huh?"

He snorts, voice full of playful sarcasm. "Yeah exactly. I've got a great reputation to uphold and all."

"Katsuki," You say gently. He gives you a look.

"Hm?"

You lean forward, craning up just slightly to press your lips to his. Your third kiss, now. Not that he's been counting.

"Thank you and," You pull back mischievously, brows furrowing. "Revenge."

He's in so deep. Fuck.

"You're such an idiot." He says, fighting off his own feelings.

"You love me,"

Maybe he's an idiot too.

"Yeah." He says, flicking your forehead and watching you beam. "Unfortunately."

[kkayyerr]

Little girls don’t smoke.

Summary: Rafe catching little!reader smoking with Pogues. He isn’t very pleased about that, but he know how to deal with her.

Warnings: Age regression, dark!Rafe, manipulations, slightly forced regression, smoking.

„C’mon, he won’t find out!”

 

Kiara said, giving you a cigarette. You have never smoked before, and you were pretty unsure if you wanted to try. But Pogues were almost insisting; they wanted to see your reaction to the first cigarette, and they also wanted you to finally break free from your overprotective boyfriend. They were happy that you had sneaked out to hang out with them, and they wanted to remind you about your past lifestyle at least a little bit. 

You took a cigarette from the Kiara’s hands and put it in your mouth, frowning at the bitter taste. You coughed when the smoke filled up your lungs, but you had to admit that there was something addicting in that process. Though you were resisting to take another puff. 

 

„You know he’s always smoking, right?”

 

Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow. They didn’t know about your regression, and from their perspective, it was looking like an abusive relationship. They didn’t know that you needed his care, and sometimes you also you needed his control, even if you won’t ever admit it. You nodded, quickly folding under all the pressure and taking another puff, when you heard a loud cough behind you. You knew it was him. 

Rafe didn’t say anything. He just silently approached you, taking a cigarette from your trembling hands. He took a long puff before giving it back to Kiara. He was trying not to show any emotions, but his clenching jaw was betraying him.

Rafe was not happy about that. At all.

 

„It was nice to see you, folks, but we’re going home.”

 

Rafe wasn’t feeling like fighting with them right now. He needed to deal with you going against his rules first. He grabbed your arm roughly, almost enough to make it hurt, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that anything you’d say would trigger him even more. When he had finally dragged inside the house, he silently commanded you to go upstairs and wait for him, and you did as you were told. You knew that he needed a couple of minutes to calm down, so he won’t freak out. Every minute felt like eternity, and when he finally entered the room, you sighed with a small relief. You saw that his expression softened a little bit, as he was trying his best to remain calm. 

 

„Who gave it to you?”

 

Rafe broke the silence immediately, making you even more anxious. His voice didn’t sound angry or upset; it seemed like he was curious about the whole situation. You didn’t want to betray Pogues by blaming your actions on them, but you also knew that they were partly responsible for that. 

 

„Kiara. But it’s my fault for taking it.” 

 

Rafe nodded, knowing that he would have a friendly chat with her later. But for now, his main priority was to make sure that you wouldn’t ever do stupid things like that again. He didn’t plan on punishing you. Why would he do that? The punishment would only have a temporary effect on you. He needed something that would last much longer than that.

He gently cupped your face with his hands; his thumb was caressing your cheek. Your gaze was already filled with naivety and with sincere devotion. It seemed like you were almost on your breaking point and he just had to push some buttons.

 

„Daddy isn’t mad at you, little one.”

 

He said, watching how quickly the anxiety look on your face turned into something else, something that only he could’ve caused, using the specific words that he knew for sure would trigger you enough to fall even deeper in the littlespace. He wanted you to regress even harder, so you won’t be able to take care of yourself and also won’t be able to sneak out or runaway from him like you did today. He needed you to need him. 

 

„I just care about you a lot, and they clearly don’t. I want you to understand that, baby.”

 

You nodded, even though you weren’t paying attention to his words. There were other things that made you feel so little. His gentle touches, soft voice, pet names. He just made you wish that you could’ve been small forever. But who said you couldn’t? You would be his little girl, always behaving and never leaving his side; isn’t that sound like an actual dream?

 

„You’re still Daddy’s little girl, yeah?”

 

The second he said that, your face was buried in his neck, and your hands were holding him tightly, demonstrating just how much you needed him. Rafe’s eyes closed as he was enjoying that peaceful moment. His little girl was here, with him, under his care and control. The pogues can call it abuse; they can call it whatever they want, but for both of you, it was an escape. Rafe was your savior, and you somehow became his. He slowly picked you up, so you would hold onto him more comfortably. 

 

„Do you want your pacifier?”

 

Rafe knew that he had won when, instead of words, he heard your quiet murmuring. 

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove

[colorquest]

~☆~

D: Hey, hey, how much you wanna bet I can jump from the ladder to that chest without getting hurt? D: I'll land on all fours. M: I'm not sure I really want to bet anything on that, D... S: If there's anyone who could do that, it'd be you Debbie. D: Okay both of those answers are useless to me. D: Vilmr can you at least pretend you don't believe I'll make it so I can rub it in your face when I do? V: ... 🔆 D: Vilmr? S: You look deep in thought Vilmr, what's on your mind? V: I am just starting to wonder... V: If maybe we should ask Maja, if we should be streaming this. D: Are you serious. M: Do you mean from a legal standpoint, or...? V: I am thinking more about our karma. V: What if we are attracting bad company, observing this as skeptics? D: Well then you shouldn't have to worry because you're not the one seeing it. V: I can worry for your safety too, you know. S: It's nice of you to worry for us Vilmr, but I think it's alright. D: Yeah a million jillion people have seen eclipses before and ended up okay. D: Probably. D: I mean how else would we be here right now. V: Mmh... V: Maybe...

S: Oh hey, I know we can't tonight, but... S: You know what'd be fun tomorrow night? D: What? S: We should play night tag again! 🔆 S: Since the moon's so new it'll still be extra dark out. S: I know how much you like night tag Vilmr! V: Only if it's not in the woods this time! V: I hate it when Debbie hides in the trees. V: We can never find her! D: Hey okay, nobody ever said it was against the rules. V: Well I want it to be against the rules now. D: Pssh. D: Not my fault I'm super smart and think like, five steps ahead. S: Well, we could fly down somewhere more wide open if Yuan is around tomorrow night? D: Fuuuuuuuck yes, I'd be so down. M: Oh, I don't think I can tomorrow. S: *gasp* S: Oh my gosh right, tomorrow is your first night at the comic shop isn't it? M: Yeah, but I don't mind if you guys go ahead without me! D: Excuses, excuses... D: If you're scared of getting owned just say so. M: You got me, D. M: My job is just an elaborate ploy to avoid losing at tag. S: Well maybe we could save it for another day and go comic shopping instead? :> D: What the heck, are we gonna be shopping for like, hours? D: We could still play night tag, like, we can do both-- OH! D: Ohhhhh, if we do go though, Michael you BETTER remember to bring that hat. M: Haha, of course D.

S: *yawwwwwn* S: Vilmr, you still seem pretty agitated, are you that worried? V: What do you think? D: I'm not even gonna get innnnnnto this anymore! D: Honestly I think it's just so stupid silly. D: If you don't even believe in this stuff for real, what is even your reasoning this time? V: Debbie, just because I do not worship a moon god does not mean I do not believe in bad karma. V: With or without gods, things are always at play in this universe. V: It is not stupid, not to me. V: What happens if it really is a bad omen? V: What if we're doing something really dumb right now? V: Just to say you got to see it? D: Jeez Vilmr, you gave me your cell so you could avoid talking like this! D: I might as well be replaying Maja's voicemail, you two sound so similar. V: You are impossible! M: Vilmr, we're not the only ones watching this livestream.🔆 M: I'm seeing there's at least another fifty on the same page. M: Do you think they're in trouble too? V: Yes, I do. V: I'm really starting to think this stream shouldn't be up in the first place. V: There is a reason why this eclipse is in such a remote part of the planet. V: Think about it. V: The only places this can even be observed at all are either in the middle of the emptiest ocean in the whole world, or on the furthest edge of all of Halvma. V: Nobody even lives there. V: It's almost like nobody's meant to be seeing this one. S: What do you think is going to happen, Vilmr?

V: I! V: I do not know. V: But it feels like something bad. V: The air is biting all around me, I can feel it. S: Vilmr, I don't mean this in any sort of judgemental way or anything, but... S: You tend to say these kinds of things about a lot of things. S: And things usually end up alright. V: Ah, but see you fail to realise, you use the keyword: "usually." V: As in, not always. V: Sometimes, things still go bad. M: ...you do seem to have some pretty impressive foresight from time to time, I have to give it to you. V: Thank you. D: Okay well nothing's gonna stop me from watching this, sorry not sorry. D: If it means I'll die, at least I did it watching something cool, right Samantha? S: ... D: .........Smumantha...... S: Well now I'm nervous! V: And there is good reason for this! D: Well duh, you scared her into feeling that way! D: -_-!!! M: Okay, I know I complimented your foresight just now Vilmr but I really do think it's... a bit of a stretch? M: This time, I mean. M: Like, uh, aside from the fact that this might be legally dubious, D: enough with that already we gettttt it we get it. M: I think we'll be okay. M: It's not like we're actually seeing it in real life, you know? M: It's just a projection of it, after all. S: Oh, I guess that's a good point. D: Literally such a good point, probably the best point you've ever made actually Michael. V: Blughghhhhhh...

D: It's already about to start anyways, huhuhuhUAHAH!!! S: Ahhh no okay I'm still scared! M: It's just a video Samantha, nothing divine about that! V: Maja förlåt miggggggg... D: No turning back now, scaredyturds!

<[Last] || [Next]>

[jellyskink]

The Tooth And The Following Headache. (A cringey crackship)

"Alright Pines, you're good to go now. You remember where the exit is yeah?"

(Geez, the more I see this guy the MORE I find myself needin' to buy another pack of cold ones for the week.)

The day was about as fun as you'd expect it to be with "him" around. I was just about to have a good day too, of course things would go wrong as soon as I was about to relax and finish up work.

Ford Pines had his monthly appointment with me today, an appointment that I was booked with because of Oleander's meddling probably.

"Yes Dr.Ibis, I remember. H-How is everything looking if I may ask?"

(Horrible, if I was presented this during dental school I'd probably have thought it was the BEFORE photo, not AFTER.)

"Eh, I've seen worse. But you're doin' better than last time."

(That was a lie and a truth both in the correct order. Geez what HAS this freak been doing? The first time I saw him I was surprised he hadn't kicked the bucket or passed out at the very least from what problems he was dealing with. It was almost like I was checking off everything in the book on what was wrong with this guy. I mean, damn if I didn't know better I'd assume this guy was eating glass for fun or something.)

"R-really? Oh my Muse will be so pleased! The care you and Dr. Oleander have been providing me has been astronomically wonderful! My muse certainly knows how to find the best people to introduce me to!"

(Ugh, here we go again. "My muse" this, "my muse" that. I wish he'd can it about that damn triangle, the problems that kindergartner art project looking thing have been causing have been one of my biggest headache bringers to date.)

"Yep, he sure does. Now can we get along to the part where we just schedule your next appointment? I'm a very busy man you know, patients to see and all that."

"Of course! I'll need to run it by my Muse before it's finalized, but I can certainly get the word to him!"

"Sure thing bud."

(Thank god, this is going quicker than I thought. I really hate having this guy ruin the mood in my office with his... everything. What did Irene even see in this guy? This wacko clearly didn't have a personality besides being a sad clingy puppy dog whose entire being was dedicated to his "Muse".)

(Irene was pretty secretive about certain things regarding that guy whenever we ended up talking over the phone or the occasional coffee. Which for a normal doctor that'd be expected, patient confidentiality and all that. But Irene crossed that line long ago as soon as she took him on as one of her patients.)

(The guy wasn't extremely interesting to my knowledge outside of his extra fingers. If anything he was boring or weird, sometimes both at the same time. The guy wasn't particularly charming, he did LOOK handsome, and OCCASIONALLY wasn't the worst to be around, but geez I hated everything else about the guy.)

"Ah Dr.Ibis before I forget, I have something for you."

(OH GOD NOT THIS AGAIN.)

Before I even had a chance to react any further, Mr.Triangle lover quickly reached into his bag and pulled out something small with reddish-brown fur and held it out to me.

(What even is that? Is that a hamster? No, it was a vole. He brought me a freaking vole. It wasn't even alive. And he was holding it out to me with that stupid smile of his.)

I don't know what came over me, but the next thing I knew I slapped the dead rodent out of his six fingered hand. As it smacked the ground, I saw my patient flinch and begin to step back from me.

"GET YOUR DAMN ROADKILL AWAY FROM ME!"

"I-I'm sorry for upsetting you Dr.Ibis, I only wanted to-"

"What? I don't want to hear about how your "Muse" gave you dead rats as gifts again! It's disgusting! I can't stand dead animals! I don't want you to act like your dramn crazy mu-"

I wasn't even able to finish the sentence before I felt myself getting pushed against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of me. I winced from the surprise as I began to process what happened.

It was that... that... Six fingered psycho!

(What the hell!? What is he doing??)

I was always kinda worried about this guy being the reason why someone ended up hurt, I never expected him to be the literal reason for it!

"DR. IBIS."

An unexpected tone shift from what I was used to from the guy, his voice was now booming and gruff.

(OKAY I'M REALLLY NOT USED TO HIM BEING SO LOUD OR AGGRESSIVE.)

"PLEASE... WATCH WHAT YOU SAY... ABOUT MY MUSE..." His tone lowered into a raspy hiss as the words fell from his mouth.

I really wanted to respond to him, to fight back, SOMETHING. And yet I found myself frozen with fear.

The next thing I know, I felt a rough, trembling hand tilt my head up. My field of vision focusing on the unhinged man in front of me.

"BAD THINGS... HAPPEN TO THOSE W-WHO UPSET HIM..."

(I-is he? Crying? What the hell?? Why is HE the one that's upset here? He was the one who flipped out on me!)

I didn't have much time to process everything as he moved away from me. I heard a loud crunch from the side of me as he did.

(THE HELL?? Did he break something??)

I glanced to the side of me instinctively, there was a hole in the hall next to me.

(Okkkaaay. Well it definitely wasn't the first time the office drywall got punched or broken. Whether that was ever by me at times was something that was a secret I wasn't going to tell any higher ups anytime soon.)

"Hey... Mr.Pines?"

"..."

The guy slowly walked over to the wall at the opposite side of the room, a blank stare on his face, a crimson fluid leaking from one hand onto the floor as he held it to his side, while his other hand clutched his creepy locket to his heart.

Before I could continue speaking, he began whisper to himself while facing the wall.

"i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorry."

His head banging against the wall with eerie tempo as he spoke in a whispered voice, his tone now monotone.

"Mr.Pines??"

(What the hell? I knew this guy was probably insane but this was taking it a whole new level!)

"I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRY."

The horrid tempo was now picking up speed.

"STANDFORD STOP IT!"

"..."

(He finally responded?)

The room was eerily silent as I tried to process what had even happened. After what felt like an eternity of sitting in awkward silence, the unhinged man I was watching turned around to face me again.

"U-um Dr.Ibis? Forgive me, I spaced out while we were about to finish our conversation earlier. W-what were we speaking about?"

A pretty nasty bruise was now starting to form on his forehead.

(THE HELL DO YOU MEAN WHAT WERE WE TALKING ABOUT??? WTF WAS THAT???)

I did my best to collect myself. I vaguely some of the info Oleander shared with me about her patient. I think she mentioned how he had certain traumatic triggers or something?? Damnit now I wish I had paid better attention to her phone call that day as she yammered on.

"It... wasn't important. Just...if you're going to leave me dead animals, do ya mind if perhaps you wrap them up before handing me them or something?"

"I-it isn't traditional I suppose, b-but I'll check in with my muse if I could be given grace to do that sort of thing. Forgive me, I don't mean to screw up showing my thanks to you..."

(Geez and now we're back to another episode of watching the saddest man ever. Ick, Oleander I swear you owe me big time for all these bones I'm throwing your patient.)

"Listen I appreciate it, in a way... I just prefer.... live animals? And I don't like rodents very much."

"I-I see... well I can't promise my muse will be happy with any changes, but I'll keep note of that."

"Listen Stan-"

"StanFORD."

"Stanford. Why don't we just pretend today didn't happen? I'm pretty tired today, and it looks like you could use some rest too."

"I... suppose my muse might not mind that. I don't think I can rest, but I know what you mean."

"Thank you Stanford. Now... why don't I drive you over to Oleander's office for a sec? I think she needed to see you for a second."

(Pleasedon'tputupafightohgodIdon'twantyoudyinginmyofficeIdon'twanttodealwiththepaperworkoranyotheraxhahstingproblemsthat'dcomefromthathappening!!)

"I-I suppose it wouldn't be too much trouble as long as we don't take TOO long. My muse seems to trust some of her judgement a lot..."

"Yeahh... well I'm just going to close up shop now.

"Of course Dr.Ibis."

(Irene I swear to god you owe me big time on top of a LONG conversation about what's the plan for your patient in the long term. If I'm going to be dragged along with you on your quest to be the queen of bleeding hearts I don't want to end up sinking with you.

Geez I need a drink after this, guess I'll be needing to buy TWO packs of cold ones from the store after this "fun" work day.)

Unfortunately for future me, one of the new "gifts" I'd start to get from Standford FREAKING Pines were eyebats. Live ones. And they were just as annoying as him. Easier to get rid of though...

(AHH I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS. I thought I'd gve it a go with writing in a more first person style when it came to a Dr.Ibis focused fic.

Yes I was possessed by a 14 year old girl harnessessing wattpad, ao3, and tiktok as I wrote this, but the idea of these two having a genuine friendship/relationship sounds hilarious to me.

I hope you liked my attempts at channeling Yusuf energy! Unfortunately he does have the tsundere curse a bit because this is a enemies to lovers kind of fic lmaoo. Hopefully the Ford energy wasn't the worst either??

I totally loved your fic other anon fanfic writer! With Jellyskink's permission we should definitely team up and write many cringey and wonderful fanfictions for this au!

Speaking of which, I'm glad once again people liked my silly little Oleander and Calamari fic! The little trickster kitty is now one of my favorite things about the au!

I love that Calamari was in the cat show Ford lost in! I'm guessing she might've won?

Either way, totally looking forward to the rivalry between Ford and Calamari lmaooo!!)

OKAY I LOVE THIS

Ibis is like "why are the hot ones always crazy"

Thank you for writing for my sad dumpling again!!! 💖💖

[evilvvithin]

FOR THE COLLECTION

pairing: asa emory x f!reader warnings: stalking, violence, description of blood and gore, Asa is cute few times that's a warning in it's own, smut but faintly words: 4,421 summary: When he first saw you, Asa thought you'd make a nice piece for collection, but not exactly in the way as other unfortunate victims - you'd be his perfect final piece.

notes: One shot fic but could be turned into multiple chapters later. I made multiple time jumps in this without specifically describing it but i like the story telling it creates. I really just wanted some Asa so started writing and writing and.. :) AO3 link || masterlist (pls don't read my old fics i am not proud of them)

It was finally the day - the day when a huge art gallery opens in your city. You were eager to go as you loved art and everything around it, not even caring all your friend turned you down on the invite at the last second. Despite them all coming up with various reasons as to why they can't make it, you knew they just didn't want to come - it was boring to them. They didn't appreciate the art. It wasn't disappointing though, you expected to go alone, again.

Losing yourself in the paitings for what seemed like hours, inspecting every single brush stroke and techniques, you were so lost in yourself and the art you didn't notice a man constantly following behind you. You've noticed him in the gallery before, but nothing really stood out about him - he looked very ordinary, but well groomed and kept overall, dressed in a simple black suit. 

He loved the way you stood in front of each display for long, making sure you saw every detail in it. The perfect imperfections. The perfections. You looked so peaceful standing there alone - the world around you disappeared. You tend to do it a lot, but he already knew that as it wasn't the first time he saw you at grand opening like this one.

“Fascinating, isn't it?” He nonchalantly said right behind your ear. 

You jumped, heart raced a little, looking at the man observing the painting now standing right behind you. 

“How they created such masterpieces without all the modern technology. Masterpieces that live forever. They were geniuses. All the years and no one could beat them to it.”

You smiled at the man, nodding. “I agree. I just can't get enough of it despite seeing the art so many times. It feels different every time you look at it.” 

“This one especially is my personal favorite.”

“Oh, same!”

The two of you looked at each other, excitement pouring out of you. You were here alone, mesmerized by the art - so was he. He was quite attractive now that you focused on it - casually looking but clean. Simple, attractive man with smooth yet sharp facial features. 

His phone beeped and after checking it quickly, he sighed annoyingly. “Have to go.. but would love to chat with you about art more.” 

You felt the heat running to your cheeks. His straight forwardness took you by surprise. 

“I-me too. Yes.” You mumbled out hoping he doesn't notice your awkwardness and reddish cheeks.

He himself felt a little awkward despite presenting himself so confidently - his way of getting girls usually didn't include talking to them trying to impress them or invite them out. 

“Can I have your number, then?” He smiled and handed you his phone in which you typed it. 

“People usually exchange socials and stuff,” you said and returned his smile.

“Oh, yeah. I myself find phone numbers more.. intimate. People don't hand these out publicly like their socials.” He let out a chuckle as he saved the number you gave him. The chemistry between you two was almost visible in the air. “See you later.”

“See you!”

What. An. Interaction.

Watching him disappear around the corner your heart pounded as if you just realized what happened, but you were definitely going to give it a shot and meet him. If he actually called you later as he said that was it. While you hoped he would actually invite you out, you couldn't shake the feeling it was just another fail. Maybe you were too awkward and he was going to rethink his choices later or it was one of those guys just collecting numbers anywhere they go. 

Oh, you were so wrong.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore all that happened and focused on the art again. 

Later that day just when you got out of the shower and were ready to sleep, your phone vibrated on the nightstand. Your eyes widened in excitement as you saw an unknown number on the screen - must've been him. It was a text message, short and simple, inviting you for dinner at a nearby restaurant, with a wish of good night to you at the end. 

Maybe this could work out. Maybe good things were finally happening to you. 

Looking forward to it. Good night - you replied and giggled. 

The date went so good you refused to believe that it was actually real. 

He brought you flowers, somehow knowing exactly which ones you liked and what color. The food was delicious, the atmosphere magical, the tension between you only growing and more exciting. 

Not only the first date, all the other dates you two had were unbelievably good and enjoyable. Asa Emory, as he introduced himself, was smart and talkative once you get to know each other more. He felt comfortable with you and enjoyed his time, making him almost unable to stop talking. He was a professor - his way of talking sold it out before he even told you. He knew how to capture attention and what to say at all times. You could talk about anything for days and never get tired or run out of topics. It felt like match made in heaven.

You learned he was an entomologist later, right before you two started to date officially. You had an idea he had something to do with bugs when you saw his van, at which he had “Deratization” logo. Sometimes when he had time he went around and cleaned people’s houses from the bugs he liked so much. He restrained from telling you, scared you'd back away and feel disgusted, but the more he got to know you the more he knew you weren't so easily squeamish. Your love of horror and terrifying stuff in general might've been weird and off putting to many, but he loved that. You had that morbid curiosity in you, it just needed to grow to its full potential like when a cocoon turns into a butterfly. Though you weren't fond of bugs, you didn't completely despise them either. He thought maybe over time he could get you into the beauty and fascinating world of those little things. 

You also loved his dogs, German shepherds; he had a great taste in everything. Anyone loving animals as much as he did was a good person in and out. Asa used to be so childish around his dogs but at the same getting little annoyed when you spotted him.

“I like moths,” you told him once at a night ride through the city and he laughed for so long. 

Everyone loved butterflies if anything, but moths? Not so common. 

Oh, you were perfect.

Moths, the creatures of the dark and death, yet so fragile and beautiful. 

He was intrigued by you whole. In his eyes deep down you were just twisted as him, but unlike him you didn't let your creativity go free - yet. 

Despite all the tension and strong chemistry between you two since the very beginning, you didn't get physical till later on into dating. It meant way more to both of you, more intimate. Almost like you wanted to just fully enjoy the growing lust, enjoy every single bit of the act itself later. You've never felt so naked infront of anyone before like before Asa. It was so sensual, wild, but also incredibly sweet and romantic. He made you feel like you would crumble into pieces, your whole body shaking as he took care of you - in and out. He felt like exploding every time you touched him, the way you wanted him and lusted for his touch like no one ever did. The feeling that you needed him. 

You visited him at the college often, sneaking into his office room having fun often. Both his room and his house were full of colorful exotic insects, framed carefully behind a thick glass. It made you feel uneasy at first, especially all the giant spiders, which he found funny, but you got used to it pretty quick. They were quite fascinating after all, you had to admit. 

One day you decided to surprise him at his house. Knowing he was teaching till the evening, you timed it so you'd arrive at his place shortly before he would. Buying some snacks and wine on your way, it was unusually cold that evening especially as it was getting darker. You just hoped he wouldn't be late. 

Of course he was. 

You regretted not asking about his work that day even though it would ruin the surprise. With your ice cold hands turning white and purple ish, you checked the time again. Either you go home or use his spare key he told you about. Despite you being together and treating each other's houses as your own, it didn't feel quite right to you to just enter without him knowing. The dogs knew you already of course, not barking or growling, just tipping their little beans on the floor behind the door eager to greet you, their tails aggressively wagging. You waited a little longer anyway, but not seeing any sign of him and your legs starting to shake from the cold, you reached to the plant pot and dug up the key. 

A weird smell immediately filled your nose upon entering, making you gag and cover your face. A mixture of chlorine and alcohol that sat in the house as no windows were opened the whole day. You never smelled anything like that there and while thinking it was weird, you simply brushed it off. It must've been his etymology thing - sometimes he prepped his own display or cut them open to study them. After giving attention to the puppies, you prepared the snacks and wine on the table in his living room, still unable to get rid of the chlorine smell despite opening the windows for a while and decided to investigate. The density of it was stronger upstairs and near the basement. 

When will you be home?

You texted him and immediately received a response.

Work's busy today, it might take a while. Why?

I have a surprise for you.

I'll come as soon as I can. 

Asa squinted his eyes at the screen thinking about what surprise you had in mind. It didn't take him long to realize the reason you asked when he was about to be home was because you were waiting for him there - it was the most logical reason in his head.

“Fuck.” He let out through gritted teeth, jaws clenching together.

You just had to choose this exact day to come over. This exact day when he was working on his collection. He planned to show you his little hobby eventually, with your consent or without it - didn't matter. He was nearly certain you'd do it all willingly and be on his side, help him create the collection. He didn't even plan on actually falling for you when he saw you for the first time, but now that he wanted you to be part of his collection? Part of his journey? His life? 

Sitting in his van all in black with a custom balaclava mask on, a muffled screaming echoed from the back as he punched the wheel. Screams of a young woman stuck inside a little box - a second piece for his collection that week. The first box was already in his house, hidden in the basement with thickened walls in case anything went wrong. Asa did some work on the unfortunate man earlier that day after telling you he's at work. The guy made some mess and he had to clean it up, now wondering if the smell inside the house dissolved already. He turned his head to the back of the car and hissed loudly, making the muffled screams stop. 

Tonight was going to end only in two ways. He cursed silently and started the engine. 

When he arrived at the house and tires screeching cut the silence in the neighborhood, he saw a very faint warm light coming through the windows. Taking his mask off and running his hand over his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the black coloring, he rushed inside the house not thinking twice. The black around his eyes now smeared but still there and squeezing the mask in his fist, he looked like a maniac. Inside his house was quiet, nearly uncomfortably quiet. The table in the living room decorated with wine glasses, bowls of snacks and candles, giving the entire room the faded warm light he saw from outside. 

But where were you?

Your shoes were left right next to the door so you must've been still inside. The dogs didn't rush to the door to greet him - yes, they adored you, sometimes he was jealous. Asa stood still for a few minutes, carefully listening to any noise you or the dogs could make. His patience shortly after rewarded, he heard some faint rustling down below his feet as if a heavy object was being pushed around.

The box.

Rushing down to the basement stairs through the doors you left open before, he found you there exactly as he thought he would - trying to move the box around to open it. 

“Oh, you're here.. Do you smell it?” You said and inhaled the chlorine air again coming strong from the box. 

“I had to clean some mess in the morning. Thought it'd be gone by now,” Asa replied and laughed nervously. “Rather unfortunate the smell is still present. Can't just leave my windows opened while I'm gone.”

“It's horrible, I couldn't even get it out by opening the damn windows - arhh it's so heavy!” You finally let go of the box and looked up on him. “Oh wha- what's all that on your face?” 

He smeared his eyes again with his hands making them similarly black. You couldn't hold your laughter when you imagined it's one of those non washable body make-up and he would have to go to work with the black around his eyes. He laughed too, it must've looked comical without the mask on. 

“What's that?” You pointed at the balaclava in his hand.

“Ah -  nothing. Just a mask. Why don't we go upstairs and have a great night? As you planned?”

While that was your initial idea and the reason you came here, now that you discovered the smelly box you were dying to see what's the source of the awful stink. And why did he have a damn mask on top of all that?

“Yeah we'll go,” you nodded. “After I check the box.”

Reaching down towards the lock his hand flew to your arm to stop you, pulling you harshly backwards. He stood between you and the box now, walking towards you making you back off till your back was pressed against the wall. You let out a moan as the air got pushed out of your lungs. 

“Or how about we have a great time right now right here?” Asa's voice all low and whispery. 

“How about you put that mask on?” You smirked, not fighting him at all.

He grinned - of course you'd ask something like that, you fucked up little thing.

You felt how wet you were getting just from the way he held you locked in one place, his weight pressed against your hips. He placed his knee between your legs and brushed against your core, making you whine and already almost beg for more. Now with the mask on and the black paint covering any skin that'd be visible otherwise, he looked quite sinister - at the same time so hot. You didn't care about the chlorine smell anymore, you didn't care about the wine or snacks, you didn't care why even he was dressed like that with a balaclava. 

There was nothing else except you and him at that moment.

The whole set up and weirdness of the entire evening made the act between you two only stronger - you've never felt so eager to feel him before, not even the first time. To fill you up. There was something fishy about it all, but with each thrust of his - hitting your pelvic - the thoughts were disappearing; soon your mind just blank and your eyes unable to focus on anything. A chill running down your spine feeling his hot breath at your neck, his hands gripping you harder and harder with each sound you moaned out. He felt you slipping under him, his own legs getting shakey as he was close to finishing while you moaned yout his name.

God, you drove him crazy. 

He was so happy when you just passed out on the couch - time to finish his business silently. Couple glasses of wine should make sure you sleep deep. It was even colder outside now; his sweaty skin and clothes from before only made it worse. The second he opened the back of his van, the box shaked as the woman inside kicked around helplessly; yet she was silent other than that. A dose of narcotics made her body go fully limp. Asa chuckled to himself - her vocal cords were probably dead by this point. No one could hear her outside the van, as long as the cloth was deep down her throat; and he made sure it was. Yet, some people still tried to scream not realizing it's to no effect. He found it amusing, fascinating even. The lengths the human beings go when faced with pure survival. He wanted his subjects to obey, but not give up. 

Shuffling the box inside the house, he found you in the same position as he left you with your shallow, relaxed breathing. Tucking it right next to the other box in the basement, he locked the doors carefully, saving the key in his pocket. Tonight ended up differently than he planned at first, but it still met one of the scenarios he expected - you just not finding out anything.

You never asked him about that night, about the face paint, the mask, the boxes. The next day when you woke up they were all gone together with the smell. Asa himself never mentioned anything himself. Obviously. In his head, it didn't matter if you asked or not because eventually you'd knew about it all. When? Didn't really matter. He felt you were already ready nevertheless, but he was still waiting for the right moment. 

Days, weeks, months went by. 

When there was a chance, you two spent all your time visiting galleries or at his place. Sometimes you wondered if he gave up his hobbies except teaching since he had so much free time for you - not like you minded, you enjoyed every single minute of it. During that time, numerous TV news stations reported a serial killer on the loose as some missing people were found dead, again. He always laughed and said you were safe with him, nothing would ever happen to you when he's with you so why pay attention to the news? You didn't pay much attention to it at that time when it came on the news.

Not until the police knocked on your own apartment asking about Asa. 

“He was with me, yes. All the time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Excuse me?”

“It is known you two are in a relationship, ma'am. Don't cover for him.”

“I am not covering up for anyone. I'm telling you he was with me at that time. We were at the grand opening.”

“And what about here?”

“That was our date at the restaurant.”

“Alright.”

“What's going on? Why are you asking all these questions?”

“We can't share much details while the investigation is still going on.”

“Is it connected to the murders?”

“We can't -”

“So it is. You think Asa did it?!”

“Well, he is one of many suspects in this case. Anyway, that'll be all. Thank you for your time ma'am.”

Your mind circling back to that one night where you discovered the box, the chlorine smell. Asa with his mask dressed all in black, black paint around his eyes. The random times he had so much work and then almost none. The latex gloves you found in the trash later but didn't think twice about them. Grabbing the phone you were about to text him, but thought it'd be safer to just meet him face to face. The police could've been monitoring phone activity of both of you. You didn't even bat an eye at all the weird connections and the police coming to you - all you needed was to talk to Asa first.

Standing in front of his front doors, it took a while before he pulled up with his van. He gave you a confused look at why you were outside in the cold. Without a single word you just got in, taking the passenger seat and motioning to him to drive - and so he did. You didn't care where you were going. After a while you sighed and asked: “Did police contact you?”

He didn't seem surprised or anything. “No, why?” He replied casually as if you talked about the weather.

“They came to my apartment a few hours ago. Asking about you. Asking about where you've been on specific days and times.”

He was silent, focusing on driving. 

“Did you do something?” 

He clicked his tongue at the question as if he was annoyed. So that was it - the time he shares everything with you.

“They said you are one of possible suspects for the disappearances and murders,” you continued, gaze fixated on his unmoved side profile. 

He turned the wheel and stopped in front of a huge abandoned warehouse, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Loud barking started, echoing sharply through the silence of the night. The entire place was like a ruin, the building itself half destroyed. The barking got louder and louder and you saw two german shepherds running towards you, recognizing them immediately. 

“What are they doing here?” You asked and got out of the car to greet them. 

“I bring them with me when I'm working.”

You paused for a moment, your fingers buried within the dog’s fur. “Working?”

That uneasy feeling creeped up on you, realizing you might not know Asa as much as you thought you did. 

“Please-”

“Wanna see my collection?” Asa said suddenly and reached his hand out, which you took without hesitation. 

“I'm confused, you know.” You sighed and followed him, his dogs running around causally familiar with everything. It was their second home.

Despite everything, you trusted Asa. You loved him and always stood by his side and you didn't plan on changing that. Approaching a rusty metal door, you saw like 6 locks hanging at the frame - what could possibly be inside that it needed to be so safe? The dogs squeezed in and ran into the distance, disappearing down the hallway; they were certainly familiar with everything; so was Asa. Following the dog's path, the familiar chlorine smell hit your nose. It wasn't strong at first, but the deeper into the building you got, the stronger it smelled. 

“Is that blood?” You looked down on the floor. 

He remained silent, holding your hand tighter. The uneasy feeling shot through you again like a wave; putting the pieces of the puzzle together you started to think his hobby wasn't only etymology and art. Entering a well lit room, you felt like you walked into an ongoing mortuary. The room looked like a morgue, even having the freezer boxes in the wall. A bloody mess of what seemed like a woman before was spread across the silver table in the middle of the room. Your stomach didn't twist, nor did you jump. You just stood there with an emotionless face, observing. The longer you looked at the mashed redness the more you doubted it was actually a woman. 

Asa on the other hand observed you, his whole body tense and ready if you tried to do anything stupid. He was pleasantly surprised seeing you not panic or scream at the scene in front of you. Leading you to the shelves on the side, you were met with a bunch of live tarantulas inside glass jars. You shivered a little seeing the 8-legged freaks crawl inside and Asa couldn't help himself but laugh. 

“That's what gets you?” He kept laughing. 

Next to the spiders were more jars but filled with various body parts in a liquid. From eyes, tongues to fingers - you name it. Your heartbeat raised once your sight landed on a jar with a woman's head inside, more likely belonging to the bloody mess you've seen just a few seconds ago on the table.

Asa still waited, still doubted you were so nonchalant about everything - maybe you were only playing it. “So?” He whispered, not letting his eyes off you. 

You didn't say a word - you were speechless, as if in a tranz. Letting him lead you further into the warehouse, you were surprised how well maintained it actually was on the inside. He clearly spent a lot of time here. Finally you entered a big hall, followed by the dogs wagging their tails happily. The entire room had a blue tint, every bit of it filled with giant fish tanks full of - something.

“The Collection.” Asa said proudly and his hand flew across the tanks showcasing his artwork.

You had to admit - there was beauty in the morbidity. The creativity and sense of detail that went into every single corpse was phenomenal. There you were once again - losing yourself in art, forgetting the world around you existed, just like the day Asa laid his eyes on you. Torsos sewed together with 4 pairs of arms or more. Two headed legs. Half skinned people with their ribs decorated. You went from one tank to another. Some of the faces - if they had one - you even recognized from the news. 

“Beautiful,” you whispered, making him smile in delight.

He knew you were the one. Since the beginning.

Asa was never really touchy or cuddle type, but now he hugged you tightly and held you for so long, not wanting to let go. You were his masterpiece, the final piece to the collection that didn't need to be any modified to be perfect - just as you were. His collection was far from being finished though, but with you by his side? 

He felt like the collection was already whole.

[orpheusluvr]

No Space (Norton x Female Reader)

NSFW WARNING

AHHHHH I’M SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN ALMOST A MONTH - writer’s block sure is awful, as I currently have 15 unfinished idv fics just sitting there untouched in my drafts and I have no idea if I’ll ever get to continue/finish them and publish them 😔 but luckily I managed to come up with something quick and fresh rn and finish it in one sitting so WOOOOOO

This is hella rushed btw, I just needed to post something ASAP 💔

Anyways this fic is basically you and your other teammates decoding the last cipher but only 3 can decode on this one and Norton basically attempts to decode too (I think you get the idea of what happens next 🙂‍↕️) also it’s summer skin norton btw cuz it’s my fav skin and I love writing about him with it yuhhhh

-

-

Another cipher had been decoded, which meant that there was just one more left. You found a nearby cipher and started decoding on it, while pinging your teammates to let them know your location so that they can come and help you.

The hunter was nowhere to be seen, strangely enough. Perhaps Alva was still chasing Norton, you assumed.

Naib began sprinting in your direction, while Eli also ran beside him. They both began helping you decode.

“Have any of you seen Norton?” You ask.

Naib shook his head.

“Must be busy playing with his magnets.” He scoffed.

“I’ll send Brooke to find him.” Eli said.

Just as he was about to send out his owl to search for Norton, he finally came running from the corner. His blonde hair swayed with his movements, while his open shirt flew behind him.

He stopped as he observed the cipher.

“Hm…no space for me, it seems.” He said.

“Yeah, no shit. Maybe make yourself useful and go to the exit gate while we finish this.” Naib said.

Norton gave a laugh and shook his head. He glanced at you.

“Nah, I’m gonna pass.” He said, walking towards you.

You were too busy decoding to even notice that he was right behind you. That was until you felt him. Your heart stopped for a moment as you felt his skin brush against yours as his arms moved towards the cipher.

Naib coughed.

“What the hell are you doing, Nort?” He said.

You gulped as you felt something poke against you. You knew exactly what it was, but you didn’t dare bring it up.

“I’m being useful.” He gave a crooked grin.

“Dumbass, you’re making Y/N uncomfortable. Just look at her.” Naib said, looking at you.

No, you weren’t feeling uncomfortable. In fact, you were enjoying this sensation. So much that the pool in your panties was enough evidence to back that up.

You always had a thing for Norton. Both of you would sometimes flirt here and there. But you had never imagined being in a situation like this, considering that he never decided to move things further.

Maybe the extremely short skirt you were wearing had awoken something inside him.

“Oh, my bad. Sorry Y/N, am I making you uncomfortable?” Norton whispered in your ear.

You continuously shook your head, your face reddening while struggling to speak.

“See? She’s fine.” Norton looked at Naib, who glared at him.

“Pfft, whatever. The poor girl’s probably too scared to even talk.” Naib said.

Norton moved upwards, and you immediately let out a whimper, covering your mouth in embarrassment. Naib eyed you suspiciously.

“Sorry…I failed a calibration…” you said, quietly.

Was this really happening, you ask? In front of Naib and Eli, too? Why did Norton decide to do something like this, something that you longed for so desperately, during the worst moment?

But what you didn’t know was that Norton loved taking risks.

After the cipher had finally been decoded, you let out a relieving sigh. Naib and Eli began running off to the exit gate, but Norton however had refused to move off from you.

But you were glad. Because now the both of you were finally alone. Unless Alva decided to find you.

“Norton…why are you doing this?” You ask him.

“You just look so tempting, with that skirt and everything.” He said, slowly grinding against you.

You bit your lip as you felt his clothed length graze against your clothed entrance.

“Just…be quick.” You pleaded.

Norton gave a smirk, not saying a word as he slid his hands up your thigh and pulled your panties down, then removed the belt to his shorts and freed his throbbing cock.

You arched your back, giving him easier access to his goal.

“Fuck…I never knew I’d ever be able to see you in this position.” He laughed to himself.

He pushed himself all the way in, his tip kissing your sweet spot in an instant. You threw your head back and let out a loud moan, feeling blissful at this sensation.

“The other 2 must be waiting for us so we gotta…finish…quick…” you panted.

“Don’t worry, I don’t go slow.” Norton whispered in your ear. And he was right. He immediately thrusted at such a quick pace that it was hard to keep up with his movements as your body was violently being rocked back and forth against the cipher machine. He slid a hand up your shirt, caressing one of your breasts and playing with the nipple while his other hand grabbed tightly against the side of your waist.

“Ngh…you feel so good…so damn good…” Norton groaned, feeling satisfied at the way your walls hugged his cock so tightly.

You felt like you were about to reach your climax, when all of a sudden your heartbeat increased. And it wasn’t because of Norton.

“N-Nort…” you whimpered.

“Hm? Gotta cum?” He said, completely unaware of what was going on.

“H-Hunter…nearby…” you managed to say.

Norton then realised that his heart was also beating fast.

“Shit…” he said, slowly pulling out.

You both lowered yourselves, trying your best to hide. Norton protectively held you close, your head resting against his bare chest while your legs quivered, still awaiting your climax which was slowly fading away due to the fear that had taken over your pleasure.

Alva was still nowhere to be seen, and eventually your heartbeats returned to normal.

Norton gently lifted you up in his arms.

“We should continue this at the manor where it’s safer.” He said.

You nodded, but then let out a sigh. You weren’t able to hit your climax, and the feeling was making you uneasy, but at least this time you wouldn’t have any interruptions. Hopefully.

[papercranepoets]

“Hermione…” Ron squeezed her shoulder. She looked up and noticed both Harry and Ron staring, waiting for a response.

“Oh, well Harry I’m really not sure about this potions book or you sidling up to Slughorn,” she sighed. Harry would continue to use this old annotated potions books even though she had a gut feeling it was bad for him. Harry was getting worse as the year went on. She even suspected he was sneaking drinks to cope with the stress of everything.

Harry and Ron exchanged looks.

“I’ll support you always Harry… perhaps you can use this potions book as a tool to get yourself invited to a Slug party or something. Then you can press him about the memory,” Hermione’s eyes darted to the time charm she cast above the fire. 10:35pm. Shit. She was anxious to get going, but had already alerted Malfoy she would be late with her newly discovered messaging spell.

“I have to do it, Hermione. I need to find out everything I can to help us defeat Voldemort,” Harry was fierce in his delivery, “I need to protect everyone I love. Him and his cronies will take and take and take until he is stopped.”

Ron interjected, “Mate. You’re not alone in this.”

Harry put his hand in his face and Hermione moved to embrace him. He had lost so, so much. All because an evil psychopath was after him. When she really thought about it she was angry with all of the adults around her who allowed for Harry to take on so much responsibility for this. Why was Dumbledore even tasking him with this. However harmless Slughorn was, he thought Tom was his star student. That was a serious lack of awareness and misjudgement of character. He should have seen through the manipulation.

Harry huffed drawing Hermione away from her thoughts, “Malfoy is up to something this year. Dumbledore trusts Snape. Snape protects Malfoy.”

“Harry!” Hermione chastised.

“Mione I don’t understand why you’re always defending him,” Ron raised his voice. He would become agitated soon, “he’s a piece of shite who thinks you’re nothing but dirt on his dragon hide shoes.”

Hermione suppressed the urge to berate Ron, but he just loved to bring up how purebloods thought nothing of her… it felt as if he was trying to say he was one of the good ones. Instead she rolled her eyes, “he’s nothing but a pissy daddy’s boy. He doesn’t scare me and he shouldn’t scare either of you. It’s honestly embarrassing how much time you both spend thinking about him.”

Harry and Ron gave each other another look, and she almost saw red.

“Stop that! You’re paranoid about an asshole who cares only for how neat his $4,000 galleon suit is just to walk around a literal school yard!” They shouldn’t underestimate him… she knew he was dangerous, but she also didn’t need them looking at him too much. She could worry about that.

“Fine. Whatever Mione,” typically Ron didn’t avoid a fight, but they had just seemingly recovered from their last.

Harry remained quiet, studying Hermione. Gods, he better not be suspicious of me, too.

“Alright, Hermione… Ron. I’m going to focus on Slughorn for now,” Harry seemed to be battling an unspoken war in his head, “night.”

Harry made to stand up and Hermione glanced at the time charm. 10:50. Ron scooted closer, slipping his hand to her neck.

“Ron… I’m not in the mood. Not after all of that nonsense about Malfoy,” Hermione snapped, backing away from him and hitting her back on the arm of the couch.

Ron narrowed his eyes, “Why do you care??”

“BECAUSE! You are constantly reminding me of my place in this fucking world!” It was a half truth, but now she was fucking mad.

“You’re twisting my words. Gods, Hermione. What is wrong with you lately?” Ron snapped, making to stand up.

“You will NOT tower over me, Ronald!” she shouted, not caring to cast a muffliato, “why can’t we go one day without fighting?!”

Hermione grabbed her bag and started half running to the common room door, desperate to escape. Desperate to see Malfoy. Anxious and excited.

“Where are you always running of to, Hermione?” Ron asked, pain hidden in his anger.

This stopped Hermione in her tracks. Does he know something?

“I just like to wander and clear my mind,” she didn’t even turn around.

“That’s horseshit and we both know it,” his tone was even. That terrified her. She should turn around to smooth things over.

Instead, “what’s horseshit is that we both pretend this relationship makes us happy, Ron.”

“Can’t even look at me when you say something like that?”

She shook her head and threw open the entrance, eager to get far, far from Ron.

Hermione paced the library after hours needing time to clear her head after a row with Ron.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?”

Hermione’s eyes snapped towards the uppity, sharp sounding voice.

“Shut up, Malfoy. Let’s not pretend you don’t know why I’m here.”

Malfoy smirked, looking her up and down slowly. Then he was crowding her space, grabbing her arms and pushing her against the table.

“Weasel couldn’t get you there??” He sneered grabbing her chin.

“I’m not here to talk.” Hermione stared into his icy eyes trying not to think about his other hand digging into her hip.

“Not here to talk. Is that right, Granger?” He hoisted her onto the table and stepped between her. Leaning into her neck, Granger fluttered her eyes closed. Now it was time for some relief.

Malfoy chuckled breathing onto her neck and swiping her mane away. No kiss came. “What if I wanted to talk?” He breathed into her.

Grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer, Hermione tried to shut him up. For gods sake, why was he not just kissing her already!?

He nuzzled his nose into her neck and chuckled again before pushing away.

“What the hell!?” Hermione was enraged. From Ron to Malfoy and his snooty, rich, asshole, strikingly handsome self, men were really pissing her off tonight.

She met his eyes, red painting her cheeks in embarrassment. Malfoy was already staring at her, eyes dark and predatory.

“First you want to talk and now you’re barely even breathing. Gods, you’re so fucking moody and weird sometimes?”

His nostrils flared as he looked at Hermione sprawled on the table. He looked like he could avara her on the spot. Her eyes widened as she straightened up.

“Stop using me every time you have a little fight with your boyfriend.” His jaw ticked. Was he actually pissed off? “Better, yet. Stop talking to me altogether until you’ve fixed that situation.”

Hermione’s brows stitched together, “fixed the situation? What…”

“Oh, please, don’t play fucking dumb. You’re much brighter than this.” Malfoy scoffed, “maybe we can resume this and move our little library rendezvous to something more comfortable. Dump your little weasel and we’ll talk.”

“I…” Hermione was completely bewildered.

“No.” He breathed sharply, “Send me a note when you decide what to do.”

And with that he was half way down the aisle.

Hermione didn’t realize she was holding her breath… so much for clearing her mind.

[dudeshusband]

Title: A Very Mikedude Thanksgiving

Words: 1.1k

Description: Mike and Dude host Thanksgiving.

Warnings: Mentions of religion (really they just say grace but cya and all that), the briefest mention of 1880s politics, period typical shenanigans

Dude took off his hat and ruffled his hair before walking up to the steps of his and Mike’s little house. The stairs hadn't quite become familiar to him yet. He still wasn’t used to having a house, or a ranch of his own. He twisted the doorknob and breathed in the smell of fresh baked pumpkin pie. Chance nodded at him from the dining table. Stumpy grinned at him. Feathers smiled politely. Was he late to his own Thanksgiving party? He hung his hat on a rack by the door and took off his ascot.

Mike was in the kitchen, checking on the turkey. Dude stepped in as soon as they closed the oven door and rose up to their full height.

“Hi, honey. Smells good,” he whispered close to their neck. He pressed a kiss behind their ear. Mike turned around and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Dude flushed bright red. “We have guests! I just gave you a quick peck. We’re not puttin’ on a show here.”

Mike rolled their eyes and shook their head fondly. “We’re married, silly.”

“We wouldn’t want to get in the way of your husbandly duties,” Colorado called teasingly as he walked through the door. “Sorry I’m late.”

Mike waved their hand. “You aren’t late. Thanks for coming.”

“I’m gonna kill that kid,” Dude joked.

“Kid? He’s only a few years younger than me. You remember that.”

“Hey, I ain’t no cradle robber.”

“I didn’t say that,” Mike retorted. “Anyway, move so I can finish these mashed potatoes.”

“Can’t even get a ‘please’ anymore.”

Mike grinned. “Okay, please move your ass so I don’t burn Thanksgiving dinner.”

Dude lifted his hands. “Alright, I’m going.”

He took a seat at the table and waited for Mike to bring everything out. He wished they would’ve let him help in there. It was a big ask for one person.

Mike brought out the vegetables first, and the dinner rolls. Next came wine (for everyone but Mike and Dude), and apple cider for Mike and Dude. The stuffing next, and the turkey last.

“Want me to carve it, honey?” Dude asked. He gave them his biggest pleading eyes. They had to let him do something.

Mike handed him the knife, and Dude divied up the turkey to everyone, except Mike.

“Does everyone want to say grace, or no?” Mike asked the table.

Everyone looked amongst each other. Mike was the only atheist at the table (don’t tell anyone). The rest were Southern Baptists, and the lone Catholic, Dude. He suddenly regretted not asking if Carlos and Consuelo would like to come here instead of hosting at the hotel.

“I’ll do it,” Dude offered. He bowed his head, and the others followed suit. “Here goes. Holy Father, thank you for this meal we’re about to have, and for bringing us all here together. Here’s to another good year. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

“Amen,” replied everyone else.

The group began to eat. Various conversations about how Mike and Dude’s horses and crops were holding up, town gossip, local events, and price changes ensued.

As far as politics:

“How do we feel ‘bout that man in office?” asked Colorado.

“Arthur?” asked Mike. “He isn’t too good for immigration.”

“What’s he got against Chinamen?” asked Chance.

That conversation quickly concluded.

“When are you gettin’ married, Chance?” asked Dude.

“When I find a woman I wanna get married to,” Chance almost grumbled.

“When he figures out how to be open with his feelings, he means,” Feathers interjected.

“Feelings? I’m a man of the law.”

“So’s Dude but he has feelings,” Mike pointed out.

“Don’t go gettin’ soft on me, Dude.”

“What? Need me or somethin’?” Dude teased. He waved his hand.“Ah, I’m only soft on Mike.”

Mike smiled, then kissed Dude’s hand.

“Chance’ll never change,” said Dude. “Some girl’s gotta get used to his hardass act.”

“I pity that girl!” chimed in Colorado.

“I sure couldn’t,” said Feathers.

“Don’t go bringing that up!” Chance complained.

“What about you, Colorado?” Dude asked to change the subject.

Colorado swallowed the half a roll in his mouth. “What about me?”

“Got a girl?”

He smirked. “A few.”

Mike rolled their eyes. Dude shook his head.

“Always the smartass,” said Chance.

“Hey, I mean I got a line of girls looking my way,” said Colorado defensively.

“Oh do you?” Mike teased.

Colorado counted on his fingers, “Molly, Suzie, Maryann, Ester-”

“Ester?!” Dude interjected. “What pretty girl is named Ester?”

“You’re married to a Mike.”

Everyone laughed.

“Hey, now, Mike’s a- well, it’s a- it’s a boy’s name. That don’t matter. I love Mike.”

Mike squeezed his hand.

“You walked right into that, Dude,” said Stumpy with a chuckle.

“Who’s ready for some pie?” Mike asked.

Everyone chimed in with a “yes, please” and the pumpkin pie was served.

“This is some good pie, Mike,” said Colorado.

Everyone muttered something in agreement.

Mike beamed. “Thank you, I’m glad.”

After the pie, Feathers glanced out the window.

“Well, I better be getting back on the stage.”

“Hey, stay in town awhile,” suggested Dude. “You can stay here or I’m sure Carlos has a room for you. You don't gotta fly like a bat outta hell.”

Feathers gave a skeptical glance at Chance. “I don't know, John T. here doesn't seem to like me as a reminder.”

Chance retorted, in his grumpy way, “Ah, if I gave a damn, I wouldn't be here.”

“Alright,” Feathers conceded. “I’ll go talk to Carlos and see about leaving at the end of the weekend instead.”

Feathers thanked Mike and Dude, then headed off to the hotel.

Colorado stood. “Guess that's my cue, too. I didn't know being deputy got you up with the roosters. Goodnight Mike, Dude.”

“That sure was a good meal,” announced Stumpy eventually. He stood up with a hand on his leg. “I gotta get myself back to the jail. That new feller ain’t no Joe Burdette but he don't wanna be in jail either!”

“Bye Stumpy!” Mike called to him as he limped out of the house.

The last to go was Chance. “I’ll take a turn around the town. You coming Dude?”

Dude leaned on Mike’s shoulder. “Nah, I wanna be with Mike.”

Chance shrugged. “Alright. See ya tomorrow.”

Once he left, Mike and Dude started packing up the food and clearing the table.

“Maybe we should have had everyone take some home,” Mike said as they looked at the state of their icebox.

“We could give some to the church tomorrow, you know, for the needy?”

Mike nodded. “We should. It’s liable to go bad sitting on table tops and what little can survive being in the ice.”

Dude pulled Mike to his side and kissed their neck. “Mmm but that can wait ‘til tomorrow. We should go to bed.”

“You're so full of turkey it’s a wonder you're standing on your own two legs.”

Dude laughed and kissed Mike affectionately. “C’mon, honey.”

Mike took Dude's hand and the pair fell into bed, only removing some of their clothes when they got under the blankets.

“Love you,” Dude mumbled sleepily.

Mike kissed his forehead. “Love you too.”

[schluttforschlatt]

Bartender pt. 2

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Parings: Schlatt x Reader

AN: more setup and character building, the next chapter will focus more on Schlatt

I love yall!! Hope you enjoy :)

You watched the clock across the bar while absentmindedly wiping down the counter. The little hand ticking closer to the next minute provided minimal joy, but meant another minute closer to going home.

3:47

3:48.

The bar was fairly vacant this time of day, with the sun still being out and most patrons wrapping up their day at the office. Of course there were a few early birds partaking in their choice of drink, but they were typically the one drink and done type. The kitchen got more action from this crowd than you ever did behind the bar. It was also a Thursday, another factor that limited the amount of customers wandering in. You moved to the ice machine to refill your well, deciding to wipe that down, too. Not like there was much else to do.

After returning with the bucket of ice and dumping it in, three men strolled on in. You greeted them while one broke off from the group and made his way towards the restroom.

“Welcome on in! Seat yourselves!” Your cheery voice rang. One of them turned and waved a hand as a ‘thanks’, flashing a small smile. You took note of how young they all looked, a contrast to the other occupants inside, then returned the ice bucket back to its home.

I hope one of them actually buys a drink.

You sighed, looking around for something to refill or deep clean. It was hard finding things to keep busy with on weekdays, especially afternoon weekdays. There were only so many bottles of liquor to dust or beer taps to polish before becoming tedious. You settled on rolling silverware, occasionally glancing up from the task to peek at the men.

They settled into a booth after their friend had exited the restroom, sharing a few laughs. They were discussing something about a sponsorship from what you could gather. It’s not eavesdropping if they’re talking loud enough for you to hear.

After about fifteen minutes, one of them got up and strolled over to you behind the bar. He stood there impishly and waited for you to notice. You placed the silverware to the side and turned to take his order.

“Would you like me to run a tab for you?” You asked, looking up at the man.

“Yeah, what would be great,” he smiled. Taking in his features while he recited an order, you couldn’t help but notice how soft his eyes looked. They were warm, an amber-ish brown color, with long eyelashes, reminding you of bourbon: you could get drunk on them alone.

“Alright, I just need to see-“ before you could finish your sentence, three IDs were placed on the counter. Checking over them, you nodded in approval as he picked them up, securing them in his jacket pocket.

You took in more of his face. Strong nose and wide chin, facial hair growing down his jaw. He was very attractive. And also very tall. While his face was inviting, his stature was imposing, towering almost a foot (if not more) above you. You continued to input his order into the register, feeling your face grow warm.

“You got it, boss. I’ll have those out for you in just a moment.” You grinned while moving back down the bar to start the drinks. One lager from the tap, a grasshopper, and a double whiskey neat. Easy enough. You started the lager first, pulling the tap with your right hand, while reaching to grab a whiskey with your left, pouring it into a rocks glass just below the shelf. You stopped the lager once the foam was just about perfect, keeping an eye on your pour of whiskey. Maybe that’s a little more than double. Oh well. Returning the bottle back to its home on the shelf, you then grabbed a bottle of crème de menthe and crème de cacao, holding the bottles in one hand while reaching to scoop ice into a shaker with the other. After pouring, you placed the lid on the shaker, gave it a rough few tosses, removed the lid again, and gave a hearty dose of heavy cream. Replacing the lid once more, you shook it a few more times before pouring it into a coupe class, and garnishing it with a sprig of mint.

Once the three drinks were complete, you turned around to hand them to the man that had ordered them. You looked up at his face and blushed, noticing that he was staring rather intently at your back. I hope you’re not gonna be one of those customers.

“Here ya go!” You ignored his gaze and handed the drinks forward, trying to brush off the way this interaction was making you feel. He shook his head and exchanged a quiet “thanks” before a blush would creep across his own cheeks, turning around and making his way back to the table with his friends.

Normally when a man would stare, it boiled something deep within yourself and made you cringe, uncomfortable and unnerving. However, something about this guy made you feel… nice? Maybe nice wasn’t the word. Confident? Regardless, this was just another transaction with another customer and meant nothing. He hadn’t tried to actually hit on you, and seemed rather bashful that he was caught. You turned around and hummed to the song playing over the sound system, picking back up silverware to roll.

-

A few hours had passed and patrons had come and gone. It was an early night for you, which meant being out of the establishment by 8:30. Looking up at the clock, still ticking by too slowly for your liking, it was 8:15. Fifteen more minutes.

You were thankful for the hours you got here. Weekdays you were out by nine at the latest, giving you enough time at wind down with homework before getting comfy in bed. Your boss had been kind enough to work with not only your school schedule, but your schedule at the diner as well. What a saint. She had been understanding of your situation, what with needing to work two part time jobs because the full time market with flexible scheduling wasn’t exactly flexible when it came down to your class schedule. And sure, taking only a few credits per quarter and being online helped a lot, but most places were looking for nine-to-fivers, not only-available-mornings-and-nighters. In no world would working two jobs be ideal, but this was mangable for you. This is manageable for now.

You made sure to restock your bar, take the bussing bin of used glasses back to the dish room, and prep garnishes before clocking out at 8:30 on the dot. The night bartender would always be handed over a neat station, with all tabs lined up on the POS ready to be cashed out. You’d worked a handful of twelve hour shifts to know how frustrating an unstocked bar could be when another bartender hadn’t pulled their weight or side work during their shifts to leave in any state other than perfect. You exchanged a few words with the closer before walking to the back of house and getting your bag to head out.

You pulled your hair out of the messy ponytail it was in and raked your fingers over your scalp, sighing at the feeling. On days like this, (slow afternoons with mostly older crowds) letting your hair down was the first step to winding down for the day. You stood up straight and stretched before snatching your bag from the desk to walk out for the night.

The weeknight bartender waved you over as soon as she saw you emerge, the tall man from earlier standing in front of the register.

“Everything all good?” You asked her, seeing a receipt and a few bills cash on the counter.

“Everything’s perfect! Just wanted to make sure you got your last tip before heading out.” She smiled, sliding the stack towards you. You reached out to grab at it when the tall man placed his hand over yours. There’s that damn blush again. He cleared his throat before speaking up.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier, I was just impressed watching you make our drinks. My friend said that was the best damn grasshopper he’s ever had,” a small smile tugged at his lips, almost as if he was embarrassed to be speaking with you. “Jus’ wanted to pass that on.” You returned the expression.

“Thank you, I hope y’all had an enjoyable night.” He removed his hand and nodded shyly, his friends leaving the booth and making their way over to him. Pocketing the tip, you ducked out the door not knowing how to continue the interaction while feeling a pang of guilt for not even getting his name. You shook it off as you took off towards your apartment, aching feet begging for the feeling of warm fuzzy socks and your comfy bed.

-

You hadn’t even walked through the door of your apartment when the cries of your cats became audible. Chuckling, you unlocked the door and stepped inside, kicking your boots off while greeting the starving felines.

“Mel, I know you think you’re dying when you go more than eight hours without wet food, but the lack of crunchies in your bowl says otherwise,” you joked at the cat as she rubbed up against your legs. You walked over to the couch and set your bag down, trying not to trip over her. You bent down to pick her up, scratching under her chin. “Let’s get you fed and ready for bed, yeah?” She chirped back at you in response. You carried her into the kitchen with the other two trailing behind you. You placed a kiss on her head before setting her down in her preferred food-receiving spot on the counter.

Your night would start the same way your morning would begin. Getting three ceramic bowls out of the cupboard, and opening up a fresh can of Fancy Feast for your three non-human children. Of course Mellie was first, followed by Oats, and lastly Bones. No other order would do. Washing your hands after serving dinner, you considered what to have for dinner. Pizza, Alfredo, or Fajitas. All TV Dinners, of course.

You settled on Alfredo, removing the meal from the freezer and popping it into the microwave. Your mind wandered to the topic of the essay you needed to finish, mentally mapping out which direction you wanted to present it. The microwave beeped bringing you out of your little trance, and you swiftly removed the tray and grabbed a fork, settling back down on the couch much like you had earlier in the day.

You powered on the television and thumbed through the applications presented. Thank God for Roku. Clicking on YouTube and waiting for your feed to pop up on the screen was the second step to winding down for the night. You scrolled through uploads for a few moments, blowing on the plate of Alfredo occasionally, until settling on a video about the history of Nintendo.

You ate in near silence, the tv only on at a low volume. Throughout the meal, you tried to brainstorm ideas for your essay. You weren’t too happy with the current direction it was going, but knew it was too late in the quarter to switch topics or start over. You sighed, swapping the now clean plate for your laptop on the coffee table, and began to furiously type away.

You weren’t sure how long you were staring at the document in front of you, but it felt like you should have had more written than you did. You only managed to get through a few paragraphs before abandoning ship. The cats had all settled down around the living room, which inspired you to do the same. You saved the document before closing your laptop and returning it to the table once again. You stood up to stretch, snatching the discarded plate to place in the kitchen sink before retiring to your bedroom.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty, determined to have made a sizable dent in the essay, only to neglect the task at hand to daydream. Sure, you often got distracted doing homework or projects, who doesn’t, but the source of your diversion tonight made you feel slightly embarrassed.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the man at the bar. About his gentle brown eyes, his soft-looking chestnut hair. Even his facial hair, a bit scraggly but somehow endearing. See? Embarrassing. He made you feel like a schoolgirl, butterflies fluttering around inside your chest. He had said maybe a total of five sentences to you and you wanted to lay down on your stomach and kick your feet in the air. After changing into pajamas and climbing under the covers, you let your mind run free, trying to recall every detail about him.

You remembered his name started with the letter J, having only glanced to verify his age when he handed you his ID. Was it Jason? James? Jared? You couldn’t recall, but hey, at least you knew it started with a J. Against better judgement, you unlocked your phone and opened up Tinder, deciding to swipe and see if just maybe this guy would magically show up. Maybe he was local and was just out for some cheap drinks with friends from out of town. Maybe he’s only in town for some family thing, linking up with buddies from college. The possibilities were endless, much like the men you continued to swipe past. Your eyes began to feel heavy, the grip on your phone weakening. The search can continue tomorrow. You plugged your phone in to charge, quickly checking to see that your alarms for the morning were set, before locking the screen and drifting off to sleep.

[banditblvd]

notebookcast.com was an experience and a half

[chilapis]

Last post before I crash and no-one hears from me until I return from my first final the morrow’s eve (a changed man no doubt) but there’ll never be anything funnier to me than consistently being viewed as a composed and calm saviour by peers while I’m, actively and uncontrollably losing it.

[pseudowho]

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Nanami Kento glory hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Corporate!Nanami (before return to sorcery), falling in love with a stranger, hand jobs, blowjobs, fingering, excessive cum, creampie, anonymous PiV sex, tiny bit angsty if you squint

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"How much do they pay you here?" A deep voice, smooth, but rusted with whiskey and smoke.

Your eyebrows raised spontaneously; kneeling down behind your black screen and hole, you didn't necessarily expect the small-talk with your clients to be romantic, but such business-like enquiries did not suit the tone, either.

Regardless, you would accept almost any pay, to find somewhere clear of the monsters that plagued you; the monsters that had chased you from job after job after job. None had followed you here tonight, it seemed, so you answered, trying to sound light-hearted.

"About industry average, I think."

A huff, the man's voice now bitter; "After they skim the majority off for themselves after your hard work, though."

You shrugged, as if he could see. He hadn't even begun to hook his cock out yet, so all you could see was a pair of lean, long legs in a black pinstripe suit. You found yourself tickled by your interaction beginning with anti-Capitalist outrage, and you quipped.

"Great pension plan, though."

"I somehow doubt that."

You laughed, musical and sweet, and were satisfied to hear another huff, the barest hint of laughter from your stranger, before his voice toned lower, his words for your ears and yours alone.

"Well...though I'm sure you deserve better than this place, I'll make it worth your while. I have to get back to work, and I'm sure you have bills to pay."

Beautifully veined, thick, long hands had begun to undo his belt, and you felt a strange thrill of excitement that you didn't feel with the other men. He sighed, unzipping, hooking out a long, thick, pretty cock that looked painfully hard and weeping pre-cum.

"I can't concentrate like this, I'll just...get this poison out and then I can focus."

He sounded almost apologetic, his words dripping with loathing in a way that made you frown. You reached one finger out through your hole, beckoning, tender as you whispered.

"Well, I can help with that."

Your stranger had grasped his cock to direct it through your glory hole, but hesitated at your tone, as if the tenderness you gave him was an odd specimen, requiring examination before he could accept it.

The tip of his cock, pink and full, nudged against your cheek and nose as it pressed through the hole. You heard your suited stranger hiss and shudder. You couldn't help but be impressed by your stranger's size, spitting onto the tip before beginning to stroke him in long, languid, practiced strokes.

"How do you hide this beast when you get a boner at work--"

A huff again, almost amused, drawing out into a ragged, needy groan. His fingertips pressed on the board on the other side, white-knuckled, his voice straining as he tried to speak past the pleasure of your pumping hand.

"--sit-- sit at my desk...hoping it'll go away-- fuck, you're good...just help me, please...pay you well, just-- just get it out and I'll head back--"

Your suited man groaned again, deep and fractured as your hand picked up its pace. When you spat on his tip again, your lips ghosting against him, he bucked involuntarily, cursing and apologising under his breath. When you drew the flat of your tongue across his slit to taste the salty pre-cum there, he almost whimpered with divine agony.

You felt a squirm of pleasure in your belly, sure that his beautiful voice alone could form the soundtrack you could orgasm to, night after night.

"You sound like you should have a girlfriend to help you with this." You bit your lip, satisfied to hear how his cool, bored tone had broken into something altogether more desperate.

"--sh-shit, u-ungh...any woman deserves better...better than anything I can offer-- f-fuck, I'm close already--"

You felt it; his balls were too big to fit through the hole alongside his cock, and they looked heavy, aching, his body struggling to draw them up as your suited man threatened to spill in your hand after a single flat minute. You whispered to him, soft in a way that offered him an intimacy he was clearly desperately lacking.

"Stop hating yourself when you should be coming in my hand, big guy."

When his knees buckled against your wall at you cuffing the base of his cock with your other hand, making the veins stand proud, you knew he was crumbling.

"--a-agghh fuck-- come too hard if you-- if you keep that up...shit, like a cock ring, I..."

You hoped that when he came, some of his abject self-loathing would pour away, too. His groans were rapidly turning into short little growls, the screen shaking as he bucked into your fist with such desperate force.

"--f-fuck, good girl, perfect...unnnhhh, perfect...shit, I'm...I'm..."

"God, you really do need thi--"

Your voice broke off with a squeak to feel a veritable fountain of cum spurt over your face, stripe after stripe of thick white release spattering over your cheeks, flooding down your hand and chest.

"O-oh-- wow--"

Your mouth dropped open in shock as your suited man grunted and cursed through his orgasm, his balls heavy and twitching, and you tasted a drip of his seed trickle down your nose and onto your tongue. Musty, sweet; nothing like its thickness would suggest.

His cock twitched for what seemed like an eternity in your hand, as you stroked him down from his peak, so covered in cum that you considered you may have to call it a night to go home and shower. As his groans faded, his voice ragged, you felt the guilt and shame radiate off him in waves.

"Shit, that was...ugh, I'm sorry. It's disgusting, I'm sure."

"It's absolutely not. I'm just...wow. Do you always come that much?"

A pause, guilty again as his voice rumbled; "...yes."

You laughed, and his cock twitched in your hand. He chuckled, warm and gravelly, when you pressed a cleaning wipe out through the hole.

"See you soon?" You asked, strangely hopeful.

"Not soon enough." He answered, soft in a way that surprised himself. His voice dropped an octave as a roll of bills pressed through the hole to you. "Here...keep it quiet. They're taking advantage of you."

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You were prepared, the second time your suited stranger visited. Having required an early finish and a shower two nights before, covered with an obscene amount of cum, you blushed to recall that you brought your vibrator to the shower with you, climaxing against the wall to the memory of his velvety voice.

You hoped he couldn't hear the faint buzzing between your legs on your side of the wall. You squirmed, muffling a moan around his cock head as you prepped him, your lips stretched and glossy with pre-cum.

"-h-haaaah, god, you...you're wasted here-- feel so pathetic-- no stamina with...with a mouth like that around me-- o-oohhh...fuck..."

You released him with a wet little pop, feeling your own pleasure building with the insistent buzz against your aching clit. He seemed just as happy to have your hand, and you admired the little neat trail of honey-blond pubes at the base of your fist as he fucked into it.

"Yeah, well...you're wasted too, at that company, by the sounds of it."

"Mmm...feels like what I deserve--"

You cut him off with a tongue to the underside of his cock, his voice fracturing into growled curses and hungry moans again.

"I already told you, if you talk about yourself like that again, I'll make you come faster--"

A breathless, rumbling laugh; "You're a monster."

You whispered, your breath ghosting against his cock head just enough to make him shudder; "Plenty of monsters in this world, beautiful man...but not me."

Your suited man stopped arguing with you, losing himself instead in the way your mouth, hot and suckling and eager, drew him in deeper with every bob of your head. The gasping, husky cry he made when his tip curved round the back of your throat, sent a burst of pleasure through you that had you humping your vibrator involuntarily.

Between his gasps, his vision fizzling with pleasure, you heard him hesitate, his voice barely above a whisper; "What's...that buzzing noise, I-- do you have...back there, are you--"

Barely pulling back, approaching the climax you tried to muffle as you pumped his base with your hand, you moaned, sweet and sinful around his cock head; "B-brought my vibrator...hope you don't mind--"

"Oh-- fuck-- FUCK--"

You squeaked, your orgasm muffled by the cum that flooded your mouth and tongue. As your pleasure threatened to make you convulse, you pushed forwards instead to take the rest of what he offered down your throat, and you lost sight and sound for an indeterminate amount of time, blinded and deafened by thigh-trembling ecstasy.

Swallowing, gasping, and fumbling a hand in your underwear to pull the vibrator off your overstimulated clit, you babbled at him, apologetic.

"S-sorry, hard to--to get guys off sometimes-- without a bit of a hit myself--"

"Fuck, don't talk about other guys when you just came with my cock down your throat."

You giggled, breathless, hearing your suited man pant as he came down from his high. When he removed his cock from the hole, a long, beautifully crafted thumb and forefinger reached hesitantly through instead, and gently pinched your chin.

You pressed a lingering, affectionate kiss to the pad of his thumb as it swiped over your lower lip, and you felt your heart thud to hear such a delighted, satisfied hum from him. He opened the palm of his hand, surreptitious, and your stomach twisted to see an even thicker roll of bills than before.

"...you don't...don't have to--"

"I want to, I...I meant it when I said you're wasted here. They're monsters. Animals."

You took the money with a heavy heart, pressing another kiss to his palm, and leaving your whispers there with it;

"Scarier monsters than them in the world."

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A black dog hunted your suited man, the next time he came to you. You felt it snapping at his heels, and when your stranger approached, it was to sit with his back against your wall, instead. You saw the briefest flash of a thick, corded neck, broad shoulders, a neat blond undercut. He was quiet for a few minutes, before you spoke, soft.

"...hey, you. I missed you last night."

He scoffed as if he didn't believe you, and you reached a hand through, poking him briskly on the shoulder.

"I mean it." Another pause, and you swallowed. "Do you...did you want to...?"

"I...I just want to talk. I'll still pay."

"I'd talk to you for free."

A further silence from him, your warmth a balm for his fractious self-loathing. His next words hung heavy with the weight of the world.

"When will we rest, do you think? When will it end?"

Your eyelids fluttered, looking down in thought. Your fingers stroked over the pad of his suited shoulder. You thought of how you'd been late to your gloryhole, that evening, your usual path blocked by some stop-motion atrocity, an eldritch horror only you could see, and you swallowed hard.

"...I don't know. It doesn't feel like it ever will."

A soft sigh, his voice rich and smoky; "I hesitate to ask what your particular burdens are, to have led you to a pit like this."

You felt tears prickle on your lashes. Taking a deep breath, and tippy-tapping your fingers on his shoulder, you tried to remain upbeat against the rising tide of misery.

"H-hey, it's not all bad. I got to meet you, after all."

"If that's your greatest joy, I pity you."

You winced. Your suited man jumped, when your hand gripped his shoulder with beseeching fervour, his own hand slowly coming up to overlay yours, dwarfing it in his palm. He tensed, unsure. When you spoke it was with the certainty that he needed to understand you.

"Get your tie off, and tie it around your eyes."

He was silent, stunned, his voice brittle as he replied; "...excuse me?"

"Just do it. Blindfold yourself. Then come here."

A moment of hesitation again...then a groan, surely older than he was, as he moved. You heard the silken friction of his tie being undone. You felt the anxious tension radiating off him, and you closed your eyes, eager not to ruin this mystery for yourself.

"Alright...if you insist."

When his voice sounded again, you felt his breath across your lips, inches from each other at the hole in the wall. You raised your hand up, feeling his shudder as your fingertips examined his face as though you were examining a sculpture; and, a sculpture he could have been, with high cheekbones, a thick squared jaw, narrow soft lips. You smiled, your eyes still closed.

"You're too handsome to leave here without a kiss."

Your suited man was silent, but you felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter.

When you finally pressed your lips to his, he moaned with ecstasy, just as he did when you pressed your lips to his erection. Though you took the lead initially, with your lips softly parting his until you could taste him, your permission imbued him with a bravery and confidence he hadn't revealed to you before.

He took charge, and kissed you like a man starved, his evening stubble rasping across your chin, nose against nose. His tongue trailed with a rusty shiver over your lips.

"F-fuck...you taste good...I-- ungh..."

He broke off to you biting his lower lip softly between your teeth, drawing him back in until your lips melded closely enough for you to suckle on the tip of his tongue. He moaned again, desperate and stuttering in his chest. You heard the brush of his palms pressing against the other side of the wall, desperate to cup your face and tilt his kisses down your throat.

Your mingling breaths tasted sweet, so indescribably erotic in its simple intimacy as you pulled away. You fought against the desire to open your eyes, instead biting your own lip, your brow furrowed against your own stupid decision. You whispered, to a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, from your suited man.

"And I'd do that for free, too."

It was the most he had ever paid you, that night, for the simple intimacy of a conversation and a kiss.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Not a single solitary man visited your gloryhole the next night. You fizzled with worry, as man after man appeared to loiter near you, before choosing someone else; anyone else. It didn't make sense-- even your regulars would be heard mumbling nearby before walking away from you.

You felt a clench of worry; the managers would still pay you, you were sure...but not if it continued.

You felt almost lightheaded with relief and something deeper, when a familiar voice graced your wall near the end of your shift.

"Are you lonely, in there?"

You felt a frisson of joy, and you knelt upright, grinning, your heart fluttering.

"Not anymore."

There was a momentary pause, and you felt the words that your suited stranger wanted to say, stuck, gated by his teeth. Eventually, when he spoke, it was strained, as if fearful of damaging the sprouting intimacy between you both.

"I've...been thinking a lot, recently. About what's fair."

You blinked, unsure, but answered anyway. "Oh?"

"It's not fair that I have to do a worthless job for people I hate, just to earn enough money to retire young. It's not fair that you're here, selling your body to make a living. It's...its not fair that it's only me being pleasured."

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks, feeling him err against what he wanted to say, and he continued.

"I...would like to do something for you. For...for both of us. At the next window."

Oh. The next window. The curtained table, upon which you could lie your lower half, for a man to use the deepest parts of you for his own pleasure. If any other man-- any other man, had asked this if you, you were sure you'd have hated yourself for it. And yet...

"I...I've never done...that."

"I'm...I'm glad, I...I hate myself. For using you, and how other men would use you, and I'd like...to give you better. To treat you as you deserve. God knows, I'd like to tell you to walk away from this shit hole altogether but that's ignorant of me, so I...just for tonight, I--"

"Okay."

You almost clapped your hands over your mouth, your acquiescence so natural that it shocked you. Your suited man seemed surprised, too, and you could almost smell the thudding scent of testosterone from his body as it readied itself for the primal promise of spilling inside your core.

"Yes? You...are you sure?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life, actually. I...I'll come round."

"Fuck, I...I'll be waiting. Nobody else can-- fuck."

You stood on shaky legs, suddenly self-conscious. Arriving at the table, you took a deep, trembling breath, before starting to strip. You heard heavy, pacing footsteps; more mumbling; a snapped, deep, possessive response.

"This one is mine."

You bit your lip, muffling a laugh at your suited man's immediate dismissal. By the skittish footsteps of the rebuffed other man, your suited stranger was not one that other men would choose to fight. You spoke up, your voice smaller than usual.

"Alright, here...here I come."

Reverent silence hung in the air, as fine as spun gold, when you finished moving your bare lower half down the table. Self-conscious, with your hands pressed over your face in blushing mortification, your thighs and knees remained clamped together.

You heard slow, deliberate footsteps towards your body, as if your suited man had forgotten how to walk. His voice spilled forth, full of sighs.

"Exquisite, I...god, I don't deserve this."

You could have cried for him. Sick of his apparent self loathing, you stretched one foot out until your toes pressed against rock solid abs beneath a pressed, twill shirt. You felt another blush rock your system, not expecting your suited man to be quite so buff.

A large, warm hand grasped your foot, stroking up your arch, your ankle, your calf, and settling with a squeeze behind your knee. When his other hand began to mirror the first, both of your knees now bent and pressed together in his grasp, you heard him whisper as he held you.

"I'll cover you," he promised, ragged with need, "with my body, I...I'll keep you hidden. Keep you safe."

"Thank you."

"Do you trust me?"

"One hundred percent."

A pleased rumble. "Good girl."

Softly, tenderly, two great hands stroked up the sides of your thighs, gliding around your hips with his shuddering groan. Your suited man's hands felt like liquid sex, turning every patch of skin he touched into an erogenous zone.

By the time his thumbs had begun to trace up and down, up and down the V shaped creases of your mound, you squirmed in his grasp, heat pooling in your belly. He chuckled, his thumbs stretching up to massage circles on your lower belly, warming you before he filled you.

"Does that feel good?"

"So good," you whispered, struggling to remain bashful with his obvious adoration.

This warm-palmed massage, from belly, to V, to thighs, to hips, and back again, melted you. Your thighs began to part, your code cracked, without you even noticing. When he settled his hips between your thighs, you moaned involuntarily, and felt his mouth, familiar only to your lips, begin to trail kisses along your ribs, your breasts hidden by a thin black curtain.

He appeared to resist temptation, nipping along the marks left by your bra beneath your breasts. Though outwardly calm, his hands grew ever tighter, shockingly strong and needy on your hips, and you could feel how ragged his breaths were against the soft wet suckling marks left by his mouth.

You had never felt so worshipped, and your suited man seemed determined to know you before he buried himself inside you. The only natural response to those strong hands beginning to creep up the inside of your thighs, was to offer him the treasure he sought, by opening your thighs completely to him.

"Please, can I...make you come on my fingers?"

At this point, you'd have to beg him not to stop if you opened your mouth, and instead locked your thighs around his hips so he couldn't escape. That deep chuckle again, this time against your sternum, and he kissed you in reward.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't, I-- o-oooh...my...haaaah..."

His fingers, wet with his spit, had slid between your folds, two of them teasing around your entrance while his thumb circled with blissful ease around your clit.

Utterly unafraid of playing you like an instrument, he massaged your little bud until the noises you made were to his liking. You whimpered to feel the insistent press of his two thick fingers, and his murmured growls, add to the fold.

"Fuck, you're...perfect. Get you ready...or I won't fit...fuck..."

Within seconds, he had found your spongy soft spot, turning your moans guttural, making love to you with his fingers before he took you. Your suited man was certainly no boy, responding to every moan, and every whimper, with the surety needed to take you to orgasm.

Only the tenting press of his cock, harder than ever against your inner thigh, gave away how well he was controlling himself for your sake. Already at the edge, you tumbled into completion when one beautiful, fine boned hand slipped under the curtain to cup your breast, to the tune of his hushed curses.

"Come for me, my love."

As if he hadn't noticed you were already arching, mewling, and fucking yourself down on his fingers, halfway through your peak. He stroked your inner walls as if to comfort you, shushing you, soothing, until your quivering pussy stilled around him. You heard the clink of his belt, your head spinning to remember that the best was still yet to come.

"Beautiful girl...sound so pretty when you come. I...I'll pull out--"

"--don't you dare."

The strangled noise that left him, and the way you felt a spurt of pre-cum spill onto your belly, signalled a farewell to his restraint. You squeaked to feel him bracket two thick, strong arms beneath your thighs, bracing you for the way he was about to take you.

Jolting into place, his cockhead nuzzled between your folds. He appeared to be needing nothing but ragged, shallow thrusts to pleasure himself against your oversensitive clit, his lovely voice speaking as if to himself before notching at your entrance.

"--s-so long, it's been...been so long...worth the wait, for you, though, sh-shit...augh..."

He entered you with one deep, smooth press, shushing you again with a tender grasp, and little shallow rocks to kiss his tip against your cervix. He felt absolutely enormous, squeezing himself into you until every little ridge within you shaped to him, hot and wet. You babbled, your words shooting through him like knives.

"--oh m-my god you feel so good so so good so big-- barely fits, o-ooohh--"

When you gasped with the sudden fullness, one of your hands flew down past the curtain to hold your lower belly, and something in your suited man snapped. He laid one hand over yours, pressing it down hard on your belly, before cursing a half-hearted apology, and taking you with the desperation of a man possessed.

Three strokes, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, sent him roaring into a frenetic pace. Your hand clasping your lower belly had sent him spiralling. If his other hand hadn't held your hip so tightly, you'd have been fucked up the table.

And despite the mind-numbing force of his thrusts, you still, with every scrap of you, knew that he was making love to you, and not just fucking you. It made no difference, in the end, your voice growing in volume until it was nothing more than whimpered, mewling cries, only wishing you could have a name upon your tongue instead.

Stilted with the force of his thrusts, he blessed you with it.

"Say...say my name..."

"I will I will just give it to me gimme your name--"

"Kento--"

"--o-ooohh, f-fuck, Kento, harder--"

The cry that left his chest was visceral, animalistic, wrenched out of him with the same sudden finality as his orgasm. You felt him fold over you, his hands gripping your ribcage, his cock jolting and twitching within you as the heavy, obscenely long ejaculation that you knew so well, filled your pussy instead of your mouth.

"--unh...unh...haah...aaa-aahhh never...never gonna come like that-- e-ever again...that was it, that was the...the one that'll end me-- fuck...darling..."

Your suited man's bucks grew lazy, his torso almost completely blanketing yours, humping away the last vestiges of his orgasm. He stayed nestled within you, unwilling to let you go yet. You reached through the curtain, stroking a hand through his hair, and hearing him purr.

"...Kento, huh?"

He huffed a laugh. "Sorry, I...was that too intimate?"

"That? You're worried that was the intimate part?"

He laughed, rich and deep and genuine, kissing your ribs once more. You heard him reach into his pocket, and you spoke up, immediate.

"I won't let you pay me for that--"

"--I absolutely fucking am--"

"--no you are not--"

After he won the argument, and left with heavy reluctance, your manager pulled you aside with a dirty grin.

"You were popular tonight. How many men? Ten? Twelve?"

You blinked, confused.

"Just...just the one. Right at the end."

Your manager shook his head, turning back to the TV in his grubby little office, his fingers orange with Cheeto dust. Your brain ticked, and whirred...all the mumbling outside your gloryhole. All the murmurs, men almost visiting before moving on...and it clicked with absolute certainty.

Your suited man had guarded your gloryhole all night, paying other men to choose another woman. To choose anyone but you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I worried you wouldn't be here."

You swallowed, sniffling, and settling behind your wall. More terrible monsters had settled around the building, blocking almost every pathway in, and you knew that you'd have abandoned your shift and run home to hide, if not for the hope of hearing your suited man again.

"You're...crying, my love, why are you crying?"

You felt him stiffen against the other side of the wall, at the sound of your sniffle, and his hand automatically reached through to cup your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. You turned your cheek into his palm, holding his hand against you.

Your gaze turned to the doorway...and to the bug-eyed, many-armed, puce coloured spindly monster leaning around it to stare at you.

You shrieked, crashing against your wall in terror. Your suited man took in a sharp breath, and the normal chatter and movement of the room quieted at your cry. Your suited stranger grasped your hand hard to hold you still, and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

"Stop-- oh, fuck, I understand-- your monsters-- can you see that? That thing in the doorway?"

Time slowed. Your jaw dropped. Your voice was thick, quiet, your insanity validated for the first time in your life.

"Kento, you...see it too?"

"Oh fuck. This...this is why you're in this place? Never been able to hold down a job, no? You've never felt safe anywhere?"

You could do nothing but weep into his palm, nodding, and nodding, and nodding. His voice rang, deep and commanding and final.

"I've got you. I...I've got you. You're safe. Just come with me."

"Kento, I can't just walk out--"

"You can. You don't need money. I've got enough. You just need...you just need me. I'll...I'll tell you everything. I'll explain everything."

When your face, tearstained and sniffling, leaned around the edge of your wall, you froze. Kento froze.

The silence was thick with wonderment, already in love before you had even seen each others' faces. But now that you saw him (obscenely handsome, tall, kind-eyed and exhausted), already overwhelmed, a sob bubbled over--

"Oh, god, you're so out of my league--"

A scoff, and adoration burning in his tired, under-shadowed eyes. He held out one hand, rescuing you as you'd rescued him.

"Come. I have some calls to make. You can tell me your name over dinner."

Your feet were numb as Kento walked you past the monster, shielding your fearful gaze with his hand. You ignored the shouts of your managers, half-deaf and stunned. In the chill evening air, his arm that was not around you, reached into his pocket, tapping, before holding a phone to his ear.

"Gojo, it's Nanami...why are you laughing?"

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.

[sexilene]

boy nextdoor!jj is so hot hehe him choking me while he fucks me in a matting press AHHHH. want to see him smirking down at me through his floppy blonde hair wet with sweat as he puts his other hand over my mouth so my parents don’t wake up :3

ohmygoodness stop it right now. the way i smiled reading thisss pleaseeee!!! adding this to the kinktober list cuz why not!! #19 (ignore any spelling mistakes sorry lol!)

anotha little boynextdoor!jj x girlnextdoor!reader thought ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

when your boyfriend does manage to sneak in through the window by climbing on a tree…he usually spends the night. your parents go to sleep fairly early, like soon after dinner early, so that gives you and jj some alone time in the dark without worrying about one of your parents randomly entering your room to check on you. it's happened before and though jj is getting better at running to find a hiding spot, it's is not ideal.

your parents figure you like to fall asleep to the tv you have in your room watching your little movies, and that it’s the movies making the little sounds. while that is true on some nights, this time around both the tv, you and your boyfriend are making sounds.

“jay!” you squeal when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending down again to press his flushed hard cock deeper into you. “shhh, gotta be quiet, like a little mouse, quiet okay?” he shushes you, your little movie still on in the background, providing a decent amount of light to illuminate his features and yours.

“uh huh…okay” you nod, still a little dazed due to the past two orgasms he gave you by fingering you a little over 20 minutes ago. once he pushes into your puffy pulsing heat, he wraps a strong hand around your throat and starts to squeeze down, causing you to furrow your eyebrows and grip the hand on your neck. jj is practically trapping you there, underneath him getting incessantly plowed by his big dick.

“wanna hold my hand?” he offers you the hand that’s not on your neck, you mewl at his sweetness, he’s still trying to make you feel as loved and safe as possible even if he is fucking you like he hates you.

“mhmm!”

“here babydoll” he takes your hand in his, the sounds of skin slapping skin faintly bouncing off the walls, not wanting to risk waking the whole neighborhood up with the way he really wants to be pounding into you right now.

your lips are swollen from his kisses, drool threatening to escape the corners of your lips, tear stains on your cheeks glisten due to the lighting, your hair all messy, and still jj thinks you look like the prettiest little thing.

“y’look cute, c’mere” your boyfriend grunts, pulling you up by your neck for another kiss, “harder jayjay, please harder!” you whisper, needy as ever.

“i know babe,” jj chokes you harder and uses his other hand to rub your clit in fast circles, “g’nna cum again!” you squeal out.

“gonna wake up your parents, hold on,” he takes his hand off your neck and covers your mouth to keep you from making any more loud noises, as much as he loves to hear them….

“alright kittie cat no more screamin’ or im gonna have to press your face into the pillow,” he whispers in your ear.

“mph- nmm” your words muffled by his big hand,

“yeaaaah good girl, almost done baby, just keep takin’ it…” he bends your legs back further into a mating press and starts thrusting in again. the position causing his dick to go in deeper and hit the spots that make you melt. that combined with the way both your bodies all sticky with sweat and how he smells all salty and musky, makes you roll your eyes back and then squeeze them shut.

“h-ha…shit, y’so warm and wet holy fuck i love you so much.” jj grits through his teeth, bringing that hand back down to play with your pulsing clit. you whine into his hand as you cum hardddd on his dick, squeezing him so hard he can barely pull out to thrust in again.

“shhh sh sh, there you go…reaaal yummy huh?” he coos, bringing that hand back up to choke you again, “baby girl likes getting choked huh? dont’cha?”

you try and make a sound but you just can’t with how hard he’s squeezing your neck. “yeeeeaaah she likes it, little pussy gushes on me when i squeeze your throat like…thisss…” he gives a few final hard sloppy thrusts, letting go of your neck to give you a breathing break, sweat dripping down his chest, before he shoots hot strings of cum into your cervix.

he doesn’t pull out to keep all that cum stuffed in you and bends down to give you wet sloppy ‘good job’ kisses, whispering an ‘i love you’ after every kiss.

“think we were pretty quiet this time?” your boyfriend whispers looking into your eyes, and all you can do is give him doe eyes, pout and let out a little “mph!” ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[norrizzandpia]

HE WON! LAN WON!

Summary: A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.

Warnings: LITERALLY NOTHING EXCEPT A SEXUAL COMMENT AND ME SOBBING IM SO HAPPY FOR THIS MAN I DONT EVEN KNOW (also like a theme of marriage and a comment about having children lol)

Note: i was screaming.

Y/n could feel the sweat drip down her back as her hands shook against her mouth. She had come into this race, along with Lando, assuming there would be a P2 secured for him with the new upgrades, but as the gap between him and Max got larger, it became clear it was his time. His time to let go of that stupid record, the one that had crushed him to hold, of having the most podiums without a race win. Her heart jumped every time he rounded a corner, praying to any kind of higher power to not let a safety car or a jittery move made by him ruin his chances again of winning. She couldn’t stomach the thought of that, he couldn’t either. And by the faces surrounding her in the McLaren Garage, she knew nobody else could.

Everybody held their breath, nerves overwhelming them as their eyes stuck to the screen. Could this be it? Could this be the moment where he took the title as race winner?

It seemed so as he rounded the last corner and his triumph resulted in cheers being heard for miles. Y/n didn’t realize the tears falling from her face until Andrea ran over to her, hugging her and wiping her tears with a laugh.

“HE WON!” She shouted in his face, mascara very likely smudging around her eyes. Andrea nodded at her and hugged her once more before moving on to the engineers behind her. Zak was the second person to find her, screaming with her and high-fiving her when she noticed the glistening in his eyes.

“Are you crying?!” She laughed. Zak shook his head, but wiped away the wetness right under his eye.

She giggled, “I won’t tell anyone.”

He chuckled along with her before the moments dawned on her once more.

She turned around to face the engineers, “HE WON!”

They screamed it back at her as if to try and convince themselves of it, too surreal for their comfort. There was a massive group hug between Y/n and the engineers, all of them having seen just how hard Lando worked for this exact achievement.

“Y/N!” Zak screamed from across the room. When she turned around, she found him aggressively waving his hand, motioning for her to come join him in congratulating Lando.

She squealed before taking off, leaving the man behind quickly.

On her way there, sprinting chaotically, she haphazardly facetimed Cisca, Lando’s mother. When the call went through, their two tear soaked faces met one another and they only began to cry more.

“HE DID IT, CISCA! HE WON! LAN WON!” She screamed, fans and bystanders taking out their phones to videotape the cute moment of loud support from the girlfriend of the newest race winner.

Their cameras caught her flying down the pit lane, screaming into her phone with Cisca over how elated she was for Lando. To add to the charm, the videos captured her tripping and almost face planting on the floor from the sheer pace of her legs. Her cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but she was quick to put it all aside as she pushed through the masses of people, waving her phone around and yelling at everyone to move away because she had the mother of Lando Norris on the phone.

Her body was smashed against the railings as his car came into view and her tears only came falling down harder. Andrea, who was standing off to the side and outside of the barriers, ran over to her, moving the tape up enough for her to come under. She gave him a questioning look, “Aren’t I supposed to stay behind it?”

Andrea shook his head, “Lando would’ve forced you to come out of it anyway. Just be prepared for the trample you’ll get when he gets out of his car.”

She laughed and her head whipped around at the sounds of intense cheering, seeing her boyfriend practically fly out of his car and throw himself into the arms of his team. Cisca laughed at it all on the phone, commenting to Y/n about how chaotic her son had turned out to be.

“Chaotic? I think he’s just clinically insane, hate to say it.” Y/n giggled, shaking her head at the truly concerning things Lando had said to or done with her in the years they’d been together.

“WHERE’S Y/N? DID NOBODY GET HER FROM THE GARAGE? WHAT?” Lando’s body leaned over to one of the engineers, the poor man trying to tell him how close his girlfriend was.

Finally, after a few failing attempts, the man just pointed and yelled, “SHE’S OVER THERE, MATE!”

Lando’s head turned, eyes locking with hers and softening. Andrea quickly took the phone out of her hands, knowing she would want two empty hands to welcome her boyfriend with. And just in time because Lando was sprinting to her, screaming about what he had just done.

“DID YOU SEE, LOVE?! Y/N, I WON A RACE! I’M A RACE WINNER!” His volume was deafening, but the way he crashed into her, holding her body to his as she stumbled back, said more.

It was no secret how in love the two were. Having met four years ago in the paddock, they were inseparable ever since. From the small and subtle touches to the strong statements of adoration and love, there was no fighting or doubting the two would end up sharing the same last name. Y/n had been open in the months leading up to Miami that she had begun manifesting his race win, touching many hearts in the process. Posting pictures of her journal with the sentence “Lando Norris is a Grand Prix Race Winner” written over and over and over again, his mirror with sticky notes in her handwriting with the same eight words. She stopped at nothing. Y/n even took to forcing Lando to make honey jars with her, that specific phrase on a small note inside, so that maybe it would “stick to him”. She was completely uneducated in the world of manifestation and rituals, but she liked to think she was somehow involved in this.

Nonetheless, it all paid off as he reeled back, tears in his eyes, and kissed her sweetly in front of many. His kisses were soft and hasty, drawing back every few seconds to plant another one on her mouth. His arms tightened around her frame and his lips rested against the shell of her ear, “Thank you for everything, baby. I couldn’t have ever done this without you and your spells. I love you so much and there are not enough words to express how grateful I am that you are standing here with me today.”

She grasped his cheeks, pulling him back so their eyes could meet once more, and wiped his cheeks. He did the same to her as she whispered, “This was all you. I hope you never doubt how talented you are ever again because of this, Lan. Everyone is so proud of you, we always have been, but it’s heightened today because you deserve this so much. You deserve a lot of things, this is the start of many.” She brought his face closer to hers, their noses touching, “I am so happy for you, Lan.”

The tears under his eyes pooled around her thumbs at her words and he just shook his head, kissing her again before Cisca’s voice was loading emitting from the phone beside them.

“LANDO NORRIS! YOU ARE A RACE WINNER, HONEY!” She screamed, a slight crack from the speaker.

He blushed, “Thank you, mum. I love you so much. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Adam’s head popped out from the side of the frame, “What about me?!” He said with a smile and Lando only laughed.

The parents riddled off excited murmurs of support and love before Lando was being ushered away.

A slight crease to his forward told Y/n he didn’t want to leave. She squeezed his hand, “Go, Lan. I’ll be with the engineers below while you get your trophy. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your parents have the best view.”

He shook his head, “I want you to come with me, though.”

She sighed, kissing his cheek, “No, Lan. This is your moment to shine. Go savor it, baby.”

His eyes flickered to the man waiting off to the side, waving his hand as to tell him where he needed to go, and back to his Y/n. The woman he had fallen in love with all that time ago, the woman he had been waiting for his entire life, the woman who had been with him throughout this entire journey, and the woman who he was elated still put up with him long enough to see this moment as the love of his life. He wanted her to share in the victory with him, but the pleading in her eyes told him that wasn’t the right decision. She was right. This was the moment he’d always been waiting for. This was his time to take that top step and cement his presence in it by himself.

Another reason why he loved her so much. She always knew what he wanted even when he didn’t.

Kissing and hugging her again, he ran off.

When he disappeared behind the random door that led him to his podium, Y/n turned to Andrea and Lando’s parents, the ones still on the phone with their smiling faces, they all just looked knowingly at her.

“What?” She giggled.

Cisca was the first to speak, “If there isn’t a ring stuffed away somewhere in you two’s apartment, I’ll be damned.”

—

After the champagne spraying and Lando’s eyes never leaving hers from his high podium, the two were reunited in the McLaren Garage.

His hand slid into hers before leaning his heavy body on her, “I’m so tired. That car was hot as fuck.”

Y/n’s fingers trailed up his back before sinking into his hair, tugging and scratching lightly, “Oh? Tired? That’s a shame.”

Lando let out a confused noise, “Why?”

She turned her head so her lips were close to his ear, “Because I was already planning your post race win celebration. The one in the privacy of our hotel room.”

He choked on the oxygen he was in the midst of inhaling, “I’m not tired anymore.”

“Really? The car was hot, no?” Zak stepped into their conversation, having no idea what he was interrupting.

Lando laughed and Y/n just stuttered, “Yeah, he was just saying it was. I think it’s the adrenaline of winning that’s making him feel awake.”

Zak’s mouth fell open in understanding before he stepped closer and patted Lando on the back, “I’m really proud of you, kid.”

The two shared a quick hug and Lando smiled, “Thank you for all the support you’ve shown me.”

When they parted ways and Lando led Y/n back to his car, he turned to her in the driver’s seat. His eyes bore into hers and didn’t let go as he took her hands, “I have never been as in love with anyone as I am with you and you don’t understand how happy I am you’re here to share in this with me.”

She caressed his cheekbone, “I’m so happy to be here with you too, Lan. You deserve this and so many more wins.”

There was something evident he wanted to say, but it was clear he was hesitant. Y/n could see it. Not wanting to push him, she just smiled and clutched his hand, silently telling him she was safe to confide in, that she would never leave him. Her hand holding was a promise of forever.

Just what Lando needed.

“Promise when I get down on one knee, you’ll say yes?” He whispered.

Her mind took her back to Cisca and Adam and Andrea when they all looked on at her as the future wife of their favorite boy. Her cheeks blushed, “I promise I’ll say yes.”

He exhaled a breath, “Thank God. I have a mental list of all the achievements I want to earn in my life and there’s only one thing left on it.”

She gave him a confused look as he started the car, “What is it?”

He looked at her like it was obvious, “Marrying you. Winning a race was on there,” He smiled, “check. Get into Formula One, check. Meet the woman of my dreams,” A bigger smile, “check. Treat her well,” His eyebrows raised.

She laughed and nodded, “Check.”

He dipped his head down, “Exactly. The last thing on there is to marry her - you.”

“Nothing else?” She asked, toying with his fingers as they rested on her thigh.

He moved his head from side to side, “I assume I will add things to it as we go on in life. Maybe have kids with you, that could be fun. But, for right now, just that. I’d like to bask in the happiness of knowing everything worked out in the end.”

She brought his the back of his hand to her lips and kissed the skin, “It always will, Lan.”

They met eyes as he came to a stop at a light and the comforting color of hers made Lando come to the most beautiful revelation of his life.

As long as she was with him, it truly always would work out.

[multific]

His Wife

At'Roh x Reader

Summary: Nothing is scarier than a Yautja who's protecting their mate. And At'Roh is no different, he is worse.

A/N: Another Yautja I made up for all of your pleasure. The above photo is not mine! Credit goes to its owner. Enjoy.

You looked up at him. 

You were smiling as you walked by his side, proud. 

The wedding ceremony was held yesterday, now you are officially his.

His mate.

You have come a long way, from running away from home, getting picked up by an alien and now being a part of their tribe.

You were proud of the long journey you had.

Now, it was time for a different one.

Marriage.

It has been almost 10 years since they took you from Earth. You understood their language, their traditions and their behaviour.

You fell in love with the new tribe leader almost immediately.

He was still young, losing his father to old age, and At'Roh became a young leader.

Young yet fierce.

Many claimed that he was crazy, even with Yautja standards.

One proof of this was the way he got you.

He wanted you, a little human, At'Roh craved something different, something exotic, taking a human as a wife was just that.

But as time passed, and you two grew closer and closer, he couldn't deny the facts.

The facts were that he not only wanted you as a wife due to you being a human.

A fierce human who kept him on his toes, who was not afraid to say no to him.

You rejected his marriage proposal at least five times.

You hoped At'Roh would give up, but he didn't.

Your little play of cat and mouse ended in a way no one expected. 

Everyone thought you two would bring a war within the tribe.

Instead, you two fell in love.

---

It was late at night, you were sleeping in his arms, and everything was perfect until it wasn't.

It all happened so fast.

You knew your mate would immediately go and fight to protect his tribe.

All you need to do is find the other females and go with them.

You have done this before when your tribe was attacked by a group of bad-blood yautja.

At'Roh looked at you one last time before heading out, you gave him a nod. 

You knew what you needed to do.

But it wasn't so easy this time.

The bad-bloods this time had a plan, and you played right into their hand.

They got you way too easy, but they didn't kill you.

Instead, they dragged you to their leader. 

No matter what you tried, you couldn't escape. 

"He's going to get me, you know!" you told him as soon as they tossed you to his legs. "And he will kill you all!!!" you knew they understood, even if they didn't speak your language. 

"At'Roh is dead." the leader replied before they chained you. Your face fell.

He wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

"Liar." was the last thing you said before the collar clicked around your neck.

The long chain connecting to your neck was given to their leader and you were dragged along as they all ran.

They had no ships. 

It was good, there was a chance At'Roh could find you before they got you to a ship and flew away.

You just needed to hold out and slow them down somehow.

---

At'Roh's heavy breathing was the only thing in the house.

He couldn't even see due to his anger.

You were gone.

His wife was gone.

He knew the way this attack played out was too easy. They had a plan. And the plan wasn't to kill him, the plan was to take you.

At'Roh took a deep breath before putting all of his gear on.

If these bad bloods wanted to play, he was going to destroy them.

Hunting was his speciality. At'Roh loved to hunt maybe a bit too much. While other Yautja excelled at it, he became a monster. A crazed hunter who knew nothing else.

Finding you will be a simple task. His blood was boiling because you were taken.

He wanted to save his tribe only to play right into their hands and help them take you.

It was all a trap to kidnap you. It was a level of disrespect he could not forgive.

At'Roh received information that a female saw a group taking you into the forest, they saw no ships.

At'Roh figured they were taking you to a ship to take you away.

And so, the hunt was on.

---

You have not stopped walking since they got you.

A group of four soldiers and a leader.

They have been dragging you along for hours.

You were beginning to get tired.

You felt like you needed to sit down, but they refused. No matter how you begged.

Looks like their perfect plan had a huge flaw.

They didn't take your refusal and unwillingness to cooperate into much consideration.

They honestly thought they could just drag you along and leave with you.

And this gives time for At'Roh to find you.

You managed to find a sharp stone and cut your hand, hoping to give a trail to At'Roh so he could find you more easily.

You hoped it was enough.

---

At'Roh's anger didn't lessen as he continued his hunt. 

It only grew as he noticed blood on the ground.

He only needed the smallest whiff to tell that it was indeed your blood.

He rubbed the wet material on his finger, watching as it almost coated his fingertip.

He hated that.

He didn't want to see you hurt.

It only fueled his anger and he marched forward, angrier than ever.

He will definitely make sure to kill every last one of them.

It was now morning when he finally caught up with the bad bloods. 

Now he just needed a plan to save you from them.

Thankfully his mind was on autopilot almost since the moment he realized you were taken. 

He moved with such ease, killing everyone that came his way.

At'Roh left no survivors.

Due to the chaos, your scent started to mix with others but he managed to find you.

With a knife to your neck as the leader of the bad bloods had you in front of him.

"Let her go." At'Roh demanded with a dangerously low voice. "If you hurt her, I will kill you."

"You will kill me either way. Why not give you some trouble in the meantime?" you understood everything they were saying and you understood what was happening, what you needed to do. You prepared yourself.

"At'Roh," you said his name, hoping to survive this mess.

His eyes moved to you only for a second, the Yautja behind you took this as an opportunity but you also moved. Moving back towards the alien behind you, using all of your body weight, causing his knife only to gaze at your skin, minimalizing the damage. 

Your movement caused the Yautja behind you to fall giving At'Roh enough time to catch up and move you behind himself before he pounced on the bad blood.

You didn't move, watching your mate defending you as he killed the bad blood.

With a loud scream, he killed the other and stood victorious.

But soon, he turned to you and hugged you.

You didn't even care for the bright green blood on his hands or body. You knew it wasn't his.

Soon, he pulled back and looked at your neck, leaning down to lick along the small cut, helping it heal.

"Take me home," you said, and he understood.

Picking you up with one hand he carried you back towards your tribe.

You were so exhausted, that you fell asleep in his arms as he carried you.

You slept almost the entire day away, exhausted from the way you were dragged along, you only woke up when it was almost night again.

At'Roh was, of course, by your side.

You didn't know but you could guess that he never left your side not once.

You looked into his eyes and you felt safe. You felt at home.

"I will not let this happen ever again."

"It's okay, you killed them and saved me." you placed your forehead against his.

You felt his finger trace your neck, where your cut used to be.

At'Roh will make sure this won't happen ever again, you were way too important for him.

You were his wife after all.

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