#i just needed to complain about this real quick

[strangerexee]

(3) ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ | ᴇʟɪᴊᴀʜ "ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ" ᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ

𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽!𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!𝙰𝚄

pairings: Elijah "smoke" Moore x black!fem!reader

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 | 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐/𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 | 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎/𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 | 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚜 | 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 (𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜), 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝-𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 | 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 | 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

A/N: short lil chapter…sorry

You woke up the next morning sore.

But not like “I need a chiropractor” sore.

More like…“Yeah, that man did exactly what needed to be done” sore.

Thighs tender.

Lower back pulsing a little.

Neck stiff in that good way from how he bent you up last night.

And your coochie?

Worn. The hell. Out.

Not in a bad way.

More like: “Damn, this what it feel like to be dealt with properly?” kind of way.

More like: “Maybe I am the problem, because how the hell I let myself go this long without THIS??” kind of way.

And his bed?

Way too comfortable.

It smelled like cedarwood, lavender, and wealth.

Blankets soft. Pillows plush. Sheets cool on your bare skin.

It was giving “he paid for thread count.”

It was giving “this ain’t no twin mattress on the floor”.

You groaned a little when you stretched, body sore but satisfied.

Rolled over, ready to complain about being broke in half —

Only to find him already up.

Sitting against the headboard.

Shirtless.

Sweatpants on.

Phone in one hand.

Other arm draped behind his head, showing off the kind of bicep that made you forget how to spell.

He was quiet.

Scrolling.

Thumb tapping slow like he was sending voice notes.

You blinked up at him.

“Damn…good morning to you too.”

He looked down.

Smirked.

“Sleep good?”

You rubbed your eyes.

“Like the dead.”

He leaned down, kissed your forehead.

You smiled.

Then narrowed your eyes a little when you noticed that he kept typing.

“Who that?” you asked.

He didn’t flinch.

“My best friend.”

You raised a brow.

“Girl best friend?”

He grinned.

“Yeah.”

You stayed quiet.

Not mad.

Just noted.

Because one thing about a girl best friend?

You been through that war before.

You stretched again, slowly.

Let the blanket fall just a little — just enough to remind him of what he wrecked last night.

He glanced down.

Smiled.

And then?

Then he pulled you in.

One strong arm around your waist, dragging you close until you were tucked against his chest, legs tangled up like y’all been sleepin’ like that for years.

He kissed your temple.

“You jealous already?” he murmured.

You frowned.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You gave him a look.

“Is she cute?”

He chuckled.

“Slick question.”

“Is she?”

“She married, baby.”

“Oh.”

He kissed you again.

“And pregnant.”

“Oh.”

You still squinted, skeptical.

“You tell her about me?”

He nodded.

“She was the one blowin’ up my phone the night you came to my place.”

Your brows jumped.

“For real?”

“Deadass. She said I had the ‘I found somebody’ look on my face.”

You sucked your teeth.

“I bet she did.”

He unlocked his phone again.

Tapped.

Then held it out to you.

A message thread open.

The name “Trina” at the top.

Most recent message?

“Sooo…did she sleep over or just blow her back out and kick her out? Cuz if you playing with another one I will key your car.”

You burst out laughing.

“Damn, she protective.”

“She real dramatic.”

You gave him a look.

“Can I respond?”

He raised a brow.

“You bold like that?”

You reached for the phone.

He didn’t stop you.

Typed real quick:

“Hi Trina. This is her. I’m alive. He did not kick me out. I made him feed me after. 10/10 would do it again. Sincerely, back blown.”

Sent it.

He looked over your shoulder and wheezed.

“You foul as hell.”

“She gon’ love me.”

“I already do,” he muttered, quiet.

You froze.

Then turned.

“…What?”

He blinked.

Like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Cleared his throat.

“Like, you cool,” he said, trying to recover. “I ain’t sayin’ I’m in love with you.”

You smirked.

“So you saying I could make you fall?”

He kissed you again.

This time, on the lips.

Long. Slow. Deep.

When he pulled back, he smiled real low.

“Ehh.”

“I mean…if you goin’ through phones…”

He raised an eyebrow, amused.

“You offering?”

You shrugged, but it was giving nonchalant with a hint of panic.

“I mean, I ain’t got nothin’ in there for real. Maybe some lil randoms but like…nothin’ recent.”

He looked at you over the rim of his lashes.

Leaned his head back against the headboard and gave you this lil squint like he was tryna figure out if you was playin’.

“You said randoms?”

You blinked.

Paused.

Because okay maybe you didn’t phrase that correctly.

“Not like recent recent…”

He snorted.

“Okay. What’s the timestamp, then?”

You fiddled with the blanket.

Looked down at your fingers.

Tried to act all innocent.

“Like…last month.”

He blinked again.

Tilted his head.

You clarified, quick:

“BUT like…early last month. Like — barely February. The first. Matter fact it was still snowing out. That don’t even count no more.”

Now he lookin’ at you with the most “mhmm” face you ever seen.

“Girl…that was four weeks ago.”

You held your hand up.

“I ain’t even like him like that for real. It was one of them ‘lemme not be dry’ situations. He didn’t even get to stay the night. And he ain’t have snacks. You got snacks. That’s already more.”

He laughed, low in his chest.

Not mad.

Just enjoying the way you squirmed.

“So what if I said I do wanna see your phone?”

You looked at him sideways.

“You tryna make me nervous?”

He leaned in, real calm.

Voice deep.

Soft.

“I just let you talk to my best friend and reply to her wild ass message. You gettin’ breakfast and pillow privileges. Of course I wanna know who got access to you before me.”

You blinked.

Damn.

Okay then.

You picked your phone up from the charger on the nightstand — because yes, he let you use his actual fast charger, not some raggedy off-brand one — and unlocked it.

Held it out.

“You wanna see? I ain’t gon’ lie to you. There’s one lil link, but that’s it. He texted me like…two weeks ago tryna spin the block but I ain’t even open it. See the lil preview? Boom. Dry. Just ‘hey stranger.’ He ain’t even come with a plan.”

He took your phone real slow.

Looked down at the messages.

Scrolled a lil bit.

You felt your soul leave your body just a smidge.

Because okay you might still have a couple old flirty convos in there, but it ain’t like you was double-bookin’.

He didn’t even look pressed, though.

Just nodded.

Scrolled back up and handed the phone back.

“That’s cute,” he said, voice all deep and casual. “But you not linkin’ with him again.”

You blinked.

“I’m not?”

He looked at you like you knew better.

“Nah. You mine now.”

You blinked twice.

You weren’t expecting the claim to come out so smooth.

So sure.

And now you sittin’ there in his bed, still slightly sore, still wrapped in his T-shirt, phone warm in your hand —

Heart doin’ the absolute most.

“…Oh.”

That’s all you could say.

Just: oh.

Cuz you ain’t have no rebuttal.

No smart-ass comeback.

No “boy please.”

Just that quiet little oh that means ‘yup…I fell but I’m not saying that shit out loud.’

He chuckled, leaned over, pulled you back into him —

Pressed your cheek to his chest.

Started playin’ in your hair like he already knew how you like your scalp scratched.

“You deleting his number?”

You nodded against him.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

You pulled back, looked up at him.

“I said yeah. You think I’m tryna lose this over a dry-ass ‘hey stranger’ text? Please.”

He kissed you again.

Slow.

Real kiss, too.

Like he was stampin’ his name on it.

Then he smirked and climbed out the bed.

“I’m makin’ food again. You comin’ downstairs or you need me to carry you?”

You groaned.

“My thighs still don’t work right.”

He looked back at you, proud as hell.

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

You threw a pillow at his back.

He dodged it.

Didn’t even break stride.

And you?

You laid there grinning like a fool.

Phone cleared.

Mind quiet.

Heart, dangerously invested.

The food was crazy again.

Like — no joke — you damn near cried into your second plate.

He made some pancakes, eggs, bacon and sausage.

And it wasn’t no “quick lil plate” either.

You was lowkey embarrassed the way you licked the damn plate.

You leaned against his marble countertop like, “You tryna marry me or just fatten me up so I can’t run away?”

And he laughed — that laugh, the deep one that comes from his chest — and said, “Who said you was allowed to run in the first place?”

Oh.

Right.

You grinned like a dummy.

Still full, still floatin’, still sittin’ there in his hoodie and them shorts he gave you last night, legs swingin’ from his barstool like you didn’t just get rearranged in his bedroom less than twelve hours ago.

And the whole time he movin’ around the kitchen — puttin’ leftovers in Tupperware, washing up dishes, wiping down counters — he stoppin’ every so often to lean down and kiss you on the cheek.

Or your shoulder.

Or the side of your neck, real low and slow like he tryna get your pulse to spike again.

You whispered “stop playin’ with me” every time.

And every time he said “who said I was playin’?”

And just kept on.

By the time he grabbed his keys, you was damn near goo.

You didn’t even expect him to drive you home. Like…you just assumed he’d call you a car or something.

But no.

This man held the door open, unlocked the car for you, and even adjusted the heat because it was a bit chilly.

He didn’t play no loud-ass music.

Didn’t rush you.

Just cruised through the city, hand on your thigh, thumb makin’ lil circles on your skin while you looked out the window, heart beatin’ like boom-boom, boom-boom, boom-boom on some high school crush type shit.

The sun was out.

Your lip gloss still poppin’.

And he looked so damn good drivin’.

One hand on the wheel. One hand on you.

Gold chain glintin’ in the light.

Lips all plush and sittin’ pretty like they made to kiss you exclusively.

Like…Lord.

Why was he like this.

And why did it feel so easy?

When y’all finally pulled up to your spot, he parked real smooth, put it in park like he already made up his mind.

You blinked.

Looked at him.

“You…gettin’ out?”

He looked over, like “of course?”

“You think I’m just gon’ let you walk upstairs by yourself? After I had you folded like a towel last night? Nah, baby. I’m escortin’ you.”

You wanted to laugh.

You tried not to smile.

But it was bad.

Like — you was cheesin’ so hard it hurt your cheeks.

He walked around the car.

Opened the door for you.

Walked with you all the way to the building door.

And then — THEN — when you got to the top of the steps, he stepped in close.

Real close.

His body was warm, big, familiar.

Like he already knew how to stand in your space without overstepping.

His hands found your waist automatically.

You looked up at him like ‘please don’t kiss me unless you mean it.’

And then?

Of course.

He meant it.

He leaned down real slow.

One hand tilted your chin.

The other slipped around your back, fingers splayed on your lower spine.

He kissed you — real deep, real soft — like he wasn’t in no rush to leave.

Like he ain’t have nothin’ better to do than taste you one more time.

And just when you thought it was over, he kissed your neck.

Not just one lil peck.

A line of kisses.

Right up the side.

Lips, tongue, little graze of teeth that made you damn near arch against him on the damn stoop.

You whisper, “You tryna start somethin’?”

He whispered back, lips pressed to your collarbone —

“Nah. Just don’t wanna leave you without a lil reminder.”

You grabbed his wrist, grinning.

“You think I’m not gon’ be thinkin’ about you all day anyway?”

He smirked, let you go real slow like it was physically difficult.

Like pullin’ away from you took effort.

“You gon’ text me when you get inside?”

“We’re literally right outside the door...”

He gave you a look.

“Don’t worry that — I’m tryna see you again. Of course I’m textin’ back. Matter fact—go head. Send me that lil ‘home safe’ text now so I got it locked in.”

You did.

Right there on the steps.

And he waited until the ding came through before he finally backed up, gave your hand one last squeeze, and walked off like the finest man on planet earth.

Which, honestly?

Might be true.

And now you standing in your hallway, phone still warm in your hand, hoodie still smellin’ like him, neck kissed and soul stretched out, thinking:

What the hell just happened.

And how fast can I see him again?

Lil taglist — @sertonins - @crimsonxm00n @klssngss @juicypinksblog @mingisg00dgirl @stilestotherescue @imperfectlyperfect78 @hoouno06 @kirayuki22 @christinabae @pinkpantheris @kxllanxtdoor

[chrissv4mp]

♱ one more dance?

warnings. angst & fluff.

synopsis. after an argument with billie about your busy schedule, you don't talk for a bit. until prom comes up, and you remember that billie had invited a week prior.

au. jock!billie & leadership!reader

letters. woah okay i don't like this as much i thought i would what wtv cus this is by far one of my favorite songs on d4vd's album & i needed to write something on it 🙂‍↕️

the cloud's were covering the sun, sky gray for as long as you could see as you walked in the direction of your next class. it was a typical wednesday—teachers yelling, crowds forming in halls, and the usual buzz of lunch.

you were balancing three binders, a stack of posters for the leadership board, and a barely-touched iced coffee in your hands. until mia, your best friend, tugged on your sleeve, nearly making you drop everything.

"hey," she said, voice a pitch higher than usual. "come with me to the courtyard real quick, and give me your things."

"...why?" you ask, but she's already taking everything from your hands. and you're definitely not gonna complain.

"trust me."

you raise an eyebrow, suspicious, but follow her nonetheless. as you make your way outside into the courtyard, you catch a glimpse of ivie and kayleigh in the corner of your eye, both of them trying—and failing—to look casual. even zoe, who was even more honest and professional than you, gave you an awkward smile before scurrying off toward the field.

the second you walk onto the pavement outside, your ears are filled with the beautiful piano melody of "halley's comet," a song you were never able to get bored of.

then, you saw them.

billie's entire team lined up in an formation that created a path for you to walk through, each of them holding a single rose. mia shoves you softly toward them, and you smile nervously as you begin to walk down, taking the roses from their hands.

at the end, you're left with nearly a dozen roses. missing one.

you see her. billie, standing a few feet away from you and her team, one rose in her hand along with a poster in the other.

it read, "it'd make me happier than ever if you went to prom with me."

blush creeps onto your face the second you finish reading the poster. her cheeks are a little pink, strands of hair falling out of her ponytail from gym just 10 minutes ago. but she looked perfect, so proud of what she's done.

she stepped forward, reaching out her hand for you to take the final rose. when you take it, she grabs your wrist and pulls you close, bodies colliding gently, roses a bit smashed between you two.

"so," she says, not loud. just for you. "will you go to prom with me?"

you were silent at first—your heart was too busy doing flips, still in awe of what she'd done for you—but then you nodded with a big smile on your face. quick, short, probably too dramatic. and billie lit up like she just won the state championship.

jane was the first to scream, and then everyone else who was watching followe suit.

billie bit her lip, trying to push away the dumb smile that was already starting to grow on her lips, almost shy now, "i know it was extra," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "but i figured... if anyone deserves an over-the-top moment, it's you."

you chuckle softly, eyes flicking up to hers, "you're crazy."

"yeah, but that's why you love me." she bit back playfully.

you couldn't stop yourself from kissing her right then and there. in front of a crowd for the first time. but how could you not? this was the sweetest thing a girl has ever done for you.

the screaming only grew louder.

but it didn't matter to you.

not when she was holding you so close, kissing you so sweet.

finally. peace and quiet after a long afternoon of non-stop, back-to-back meetings—one for leadership expectations, one for the school's sports fundraiser, and one you honestly don't even remember because you were writing down times and dates that your counselor had sent you for upcoming events.

you're halfway through changing into more comfy clothes when your phone buzzes on your nightstand. great. probably more emails and complaints from your teammates.

you don't rush to answer the phone. instead, you take your time in changing, brushing your teeth, and doing your skincare before turning on your lamp and settling under the covers.

the notification wasn't from any of your teammates. wasn't even an email, actually.

billie: u coming over or did student gov drain ur energy?

you stare at it for a minute, reading over the few words over and over again. because, yeah, it's an obvious joke. but right now, with how tired and busy billie knew you were around this time of the school year, it didn't seem very funny.

clicking on her contact, you decide to call her instead of texting. you at least owed her the sound of your voice after only being able to glance at her in the hallways this past week.

"hey," you say when the line connects, voice quiet. "i'm sorry, bil, i'm just so exhausted. can we hang out tomorrow?"

there's a long pause on billie's end of the call. long enough to make your stomach twist in guilt.

"semi-finals are tomorrow, you know that, right?"

your heart skips a beat. you promised her you'd be there, said that you'd be the loudest on the sidelines cheering for her, that you'd even scream that she's the best in the hallways the next day if she won.

but then your counselor changed the date of an important meeting, and suddenly your plans were ruined.

"shit. billie, i—i have the district rep meeting. they changed the date and we've been planning for weeks—"

"you mean the one that'll 'look good on college apps'?" her voice had a sudden sharpness to it now. the edge that only ever came out when something hit her hard, "so, let me get this straight—you had time for planning meetings, hanging up posters, and writing speeches, but not even 8 minutes to watch me play at least one quarter?"

you stumble. "it's not like that, billie. i swear, i wanted to—"

"yeah, you always 'want to.' you just never actually do." she snaps.

brows furrowing, you scoff. "that's not fair, you know i make the effort. i show up to every one of your games and try to be light even when you're losing."

billie laughs. but it's not full. "what's not fair is busting my ass on the court while my girlfriend's too busy organizing dances and kissing her counselor's ass to even show up. i put myself out there for you— i planned that stupid promposal for weeks—"

"it wasn't stupid—"

"—and now it just feels like i'm dating someone who shows up for everything and everyone except for me."

it feels like the wind is knocked out of your chest, her words landing harder than a punch to the ribs. but it wasn't true.

until she said something that was. "sometimes it feels like i'm dating your schedule, not you."

then the line goes quiet again. but the silence is so much louder this time around, her words hanging heavy in your head. you didn't know what to say. couldn't find the words.

so you just decide on the truth.

"i can't drop everything just for you, billie."

her response was instant, voice rough. "then maybe i need someone who will."

and then three beeps, signaling the end of the call.

the gym doesn't even look like a gym tonight.

it's lit up in soft golds and deep blues, string lights curling like vines across the ceiling. light blue balloons float near the entrance. a disco ball turns slowly above the chaos, shining flecks of light on everything like tiny stars. the music thumps through the floor steadily.

though, nothing feels right now that you're alone.

you thought you'd be having the best night with billie a few weeks ago, dancing and laughing under the lights and maybe even sneaking off to the field to just sit and talk.

but now you don't even see her. and, honestly, part of you thinks she just won't show up entirely.

not after everything.

not after that argument. after she hung up like there wasn't more to be said, to be communicated. after three days of silence and sideways glances in the hallways that meant something and nothing all at once.

still, you walk through the doors and into the gym anyway.

because you said you would. because she asked you to prom a few weeks ago, and you couldn't let her down again. because you still remember the smile on her face when you nodded.

and because, most importantly, the worst thing you could do now—after everything—would be to not shos up.

your heart's racing as you scan the room, making your way to the snack table and smoothening out the blue satin fabric of your dress. just as you reach out to grab a cup, you feel eyes on you.

billie's cold, pretty blue eyes.

as you turn around, you're met with her. dark blue tux matching your dress, sleeves rolled up, tie barely hanging on. and her hair's down, falling over her shoulders in perfect, dark waves that make you blush.

"hi," she murmurs. her voice is steady. low. familiar.

her eyes stay trained on you, like she's afraid you'll run away.

"hey," you answer, and it's barely audible. "you came."

she almost smiles. "so did you."

the music fades quietly—slower now, something dreamy and calming: the night we met. you can't help the smile that blooms on your face as you hear the first notes.

breathing in, she offers you a hand. "dance with me?"

you hesitate, freezing momentarily and just staring at her ring-clad fingers. she steps closer, eyes softer now, "i'm sorry for the way i acted."

"it was selfish, i know," she whispers, never looking away. "but you were right. you do come to every game of mine, and i didn't know what i was talking about at all. i was just... mad."

her fingers find their spot curling around your waist, so light you hardly notice the way she's pulling you closer.

before you can say anything, she continues. "and i am so fucking stupid for saying that i would find someone different. nobody compares to you, y/n. no one else has your level of compassion or understanding, and i wouldn't trade you for the world."

she goes silent for a bit, just holding you and staring into your eyes with the most gentle, loving look on her face. your smile grows as you let the weight of her words sink in.

"do you trust me now?" she asks, offering out her hand again, "dance with me. please, at least let me give you this."

your fingers twitch, barely brushing hers, but the second you make contact, it's like you can finally breathe. you let her take your hand, fingers intertwining as she pulled you toward the middle of the gym where everyone was stuck in their own worlds.

her hand wanders back down to your waist again, unsure at first, then firmer when you don't pull away. you both settle into a rhythm that's more emotion than movement, swaying gently under the soft, dark lights.

she's holding you closer than before. both physically and emotionally. arms wrapped around you like she's scared you'll disappear if her grip loosens even in the slightest, heart praying she doesn't break things again. there's no more hesitation, hardly any space between your bodies—just heat and rapid heartbeats and the quiet hum of the music below it all.

"the only way i'm letting you go," she murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "is if i can't see my hands. if my heart stops racing."

you don't know how to reply to that. your throat is too tight, chest aching in that raw, overwhelming kind of way—the way it only ever did when you felt seen, really seen by someone. when they're holding onto you like you're the only thing in the world that matters.

"it's faster now," she whispers above the music, taking your hand and pressing it to her chest, eyes focused on you. and you can feel it, wild and rapid beneath your palm. "my heart. it's never done that before, not until this."

you tilt your head. "mine too."

her lips curl into a smile—shaky and small but genuine.

the music plays on, sweet and low like a secret meant just for you. people are watching—of course they are after her promposal—but billie never looks away. she doesn't care. her focus right now is only on you.

"they're staring," you murmur, eyes flitting all around. some eyes are filled with joy, others jealousy.

"most of 'em don't mean nothing. just... look at me," she murmurs, and you look back immediately. her eyes are softer.

she sighs in relaxation, tongue darting out to wet her lips nervously as she continues to sway with you. she doesn't know what to say, or if she should even say anything right now. but it's making her all fidgety and shy, being under your gaze after the argument.

the people around you on the gym floor are all quiet, lost in their partners as they try to keep a rhythm. billie's having no difficulty, the slow movement coming to her naturally as she shuts her eyes. like she's placing her full trust into your hands.

"close your eyes," she whispers, and you follow her words without hesitancy.

she leans closer, forehead resting against yours as she pulls you closer somehow. your hand is still on her chest, almost squished between your two bodies. but it's comfortable, intimate in a way you've never felt before.

the music fades slowly into silence, and as the final note rings out, you and billie open your eyes at the exact same time, and it almost feels like seeing each other for the first time again.

then she pulls back, just enough to fully take you in, eyes flicking down to where her fingers are curled securely around your waist still. and she grins softly, removing her hands from your waist and holding them out for you to take.

you take them, fingers locking between each other like routine. her eyes move down, focusing on the new beat and creating footwork in her head. it's a bit faster than before, but still slow, gentle.

"right foot," she murmurs, stepping forward with her right and causing you to step back with your left, then returning it to the middle as she retreats. "left foot." she repeats the movement, but this time moving her left foot back.

you let her guide you, step by careful step, eyes locked to your feet in concentration as you listen intently. the song floats around you both like a slow tide, and you dance together in a rhythm that feels like breathing. easy.

"dance," she murmurs—like that explains anything—and steps out to the right with you, then to the left as she speaks again. "dance."

her hands tighten around yours. not enough to hurt, just enough to anchor you. her grip is warm, sure, as if by holding you like this she can undo everything—every word she said, every ache you both carried alone—and it almost does.

"hold onto my hands," she says, voice shaking now, like she's actually scared she'll mess up again. "don't let go."

you look up again, and there it is again—that desperate kind of love, the kind that doesn't ask for forgiveness with words, but with touches and closeness and being brave enough to even stay and try to fix things.

so you listen, and you don't let go.

you dance, not perfectly, but just as she tells you to. your movements are much messier than hers are, but she knows you're trying your best. and she hopes you know that she's doing the exact same, holding onto your hands like they're her lifeline, trying to say so much without saying anything at all.

and for right now, that's enough.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @fawninlove @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @hkkuugu @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize

[carpesabrina]

She smiled as he confirmed they were going to last. It was always the reassurance that she needed the most. Knowing she wasn't wasting her time, that he wanted this as much as she did. Which made her even more excited for Thursday to come and she could share the happy news with him. Her gaze shifted to his hand as it rested on her stomach, a small smile stretching along her features. "Because it's so fast. I just know that's exactly what he's gonna think. He may not say it, he'll be happy for us." She told him, looking back up at him. Sabrina knew her father would be happy at the end. He wouldn't complain too much. She laughed and lifted up her hand, "what? This little thing? They won't even notice it, babe." She joked.

She took a sip of her orange juice as Max went and opened up the door. She set it down and then pulled herself up from the couch just as everyone started piling in. She greeted his family, returning hugs. "Thank you, Nina." She said as she complimented her home. She had been on the fence about inviting Max's family since he mentioned at one point not wanting to scare them with her house. But with the engagement announcement, it made sense to have it at an intimate place like a house. And she wasn't about to bombard her parents home with her future in laws. It wasn't long before her family came in, Sarah going right over to Sabrina. Her eyebrow arched as she noticed the ring. She pulled the blonde into a hug. "That's not the vegas ring, girl." She whispered in her ear. Sabrina laughed. "Come make mimosas with me real quick." She said as she pulled Sarah into the kitchen with her. Once they were in the privacy of the kitchen, she showed Sarah the ring. "Does he know?" She asked, motioned towards the girls stomach. Sabrina shook her head. "No. Everything comes on Wednesday, I'm telling him on Thursday." She said quietly, not wanting everyone to hear in the living room. The girls made the mimosas, and then Sabrina told Sarah she needed her help throughout it to make sure she didn't get any with champagne in it. And if she did, she was putting Sarah in charge to secretly drink it for her. They grabbed the glasses and then brought it to everyone. Once everyone who wanted a mimosas got one, Sabrina stood next to Max, taking a drink of her juice. "Alright, we asked you guys here today because we have an announcement. Last night Max and I got engaged." Sabrina said and finally held out her left hand. Her family came up to look at the ring, and giving her and Max's hugs and congratulations. "Welcome to the family, Max." Sabrina's dad said, patting his arm.

He could understand her excitement because he was a ball of nerves. This wasn't his first engagement but it was the one that felt like it would stick. They had already 'married' each other and all this was, was making it legal since to them they were married. "I'm sure they loved keeping you company." His head tilted as she said what she was thinking about. "We're going to last forever baby. No breakups, no divorce, just us loving each other till the rest of our lives."

David had always been the issue and Max didn't understand how he thought it okay to judge others after what he did but he couldn't hate it since the man was just being protective of her. "I think I made a good impression on him but marriage is a huge thing. Shot gun wedding? Why would he think that, babe? You're not pregnant and him holding a gun to my head." His hand moved to slide over her stomach. He hadn't done that since joking the one day he would put a baby in her. It was hard for Max to be nice when he wanted her to himself and they got interrupted but she was right. They could do that later, their family was on the way. Hearing her question he paused to think about it. "Let's tell them when they get here. I want to just do it and then we can work on getting them to like it the rest of the night if they question it." As if reading her mind he motioned to her ring. "And they might question the rock on your finger."

Once again the doorbell sounded and he glanced to Sabrina. "And right into the fire." He said as he got up to get the door. "Come on in. Sab's family is on the way but make yourself at home. I'll give you the tour after lunch." They were already staring and Max remembered his own first time there. So much for him....they were already giving hugs to Sabrina before he could finish. This was going to be easy on his end, his family loved her. They had wanted him to get married for years now and they could clearly see that she wasn't after his money. "Your home is so lovely" Nina told her as she hugged her. Momoo had a smile on her face as she kissed Sab's cheek and winked at her. Did she know or assume? Alex was already complimenting her on her outfits from the gala and parties which didn't surprise Max. And there went the door bell again. "I got it." Opening the door he began greeting Sab's family.

[lover-of-skellies]

Getting tired of one very specific mobile game ad that I keep having shoved down my throat every time I open this app

I can deal with seeing the same woman over and over. I can deal with her having super hairy legs or armpits. I can deal with her being stinky. I can deal with her having gaudy makeup or the stupidest, ugliest outfits imaginable

What I can't deal with, what I don't want to HAVE to deal with, is her having pimples or infected spots that are leaking puss, or her having open wounds with literal worms or maggots crawling around in/on them

That is nasty. That is repulsive. That is disgusting. I'm glad I don't have a weak stomach, because if I did, I might be someone who'd be sick at seeing that stuff

[shadovvheart]

Are there actually people who get discouraged from playing a game when they get spoiled too much? "does bioware understand that if they reveal too much people won't be interested in playing the game" that's crazy if so, imagine refusing to engage with a story after you already know some portions of it... being this afraid of spoilers just leads to a culture where studios don't tell their actors who they're playing and what game they're even acting for

[glitchy-haha]

Giving into my demons and adding this to my lists of things to draw I need you all to give me Mateo x Dallas shit to draw but you have to make it as goofy as possible

[whippetcrimes]

I have think there's something wrong with me.

I have one singular dog. Since I've gotten Misty, I've purchased 8 collars, 2 leashes, and 1 slip leash. In addition to these, I already had 3 leashes, Misty came home with a collar, and a puppy sized martingale slip leash.

Why am I about to buy yet another leash????

[hauntingblue]

I don't know what to say... everyone got a happy ending except the people who actually wanted a real revolution and had a cause for it... but it's not like we had much of their opinions on this I guess... also no final lez sex scene... tragic

[tojisteddy]

Jumping The Gun

or: the one where John Price fucks the idea of marriage into you.

cw: 5.9k words (gawd DAMN), 18+ MDNI, klutz in love!Price, kinda toxic!Price, smut with plot, no use of y/n, dumbification, squirting, p in v, protected & unprotected sex, dubcon, dumbification, creampie, breeding kink, marathon!, cum eating, engagement, reader!has tattoos, reader!is in denial of Egypt, Daddy said a couple times idk, john visuals, reader visuals,

a/n: My Whole Life by Alina Baraz *chefs kiss*

Everyone in the 141 was shocked when John Price came back after taking a month an a half off for leave with a golden ring on his ring finger, a new picture frame to place on his desk, and practically jumping off the roof to fill out more paperwork for a special someone. Again.

You were his third marriage.

John was good at making quick decisions, making up his mind at the exact right time when it was do or die. But the old man was a complete klutz when it came to love.

The first marriage, admittedly, was never gonna last long. He was fresh out of highschool, still in the infantry and married his highschool sweetheart. His parents were sceptical but supportive. It wasn’t uncommon to marry early, hell, his parents did so why couldn’t he?

It just wasn’t in the cards.

The distance and the worry was just too much. The divorce was clean cut since they didn’t have any kids and we’re still young. Him and his ex-wife, Cara, were still fairly close. He’d get a call from the woman and her husband (surprisingly) to come over for dinner every once in a while. No bad blood.

But that second marriage? John was a goddamn idiot.

Was it his fault he married with his eyes and not with his brain? Yes. A man is still a man at the end of the day. You see a woman with an amazing set of knockers on her, pretty blue eyes, skinny waist and blonde hair— you’d fall for it too!

She was obnoxious, loud, and always, always, always needed new clothes, shoes, hair and nails done. Now John had no problem spending on his woman, he’d bring down Jupiter if had to. The problem was she complained and whined. Complained about the clothes not being ‘high quality enough,’ the house not being big enough, the brand new convertible not pink enough. Whined when she went over the already pricey budget the man set for her, that she couldn’t spend his life savings on her, that John was too hairy, ran too warm, too tall—no fucking sense.

He got out of the marriage by the scrape of his teeth, lucky that his siblings convinced him to get a prenup. She left with no pounds to her name, shoving all her belongings in that hot pink convertible and crying that no money went to her when the captain had sold the house.

But you? Oh you. His honey, sweet girl, little wanderer— you were the real deal.

John was walking with a couple friends heading to some bar a few hours after being back in the UK. You were walking the opposite direction, bags from different stores after a day of shopping in your hand. You looked like a model, long black trench coat on, a fitted baby blue crop top, black leather shorts that showed off the tattoos that went down your legs, slouched heeled boots that went mid calf. Curls blowing in the wind, you thankfully hadn’t noticed the hairy fellow till you bumped into him.

“You alright?”

Your brown eyes met his blue ones as he steadied you upright. You were awe struck, as if you were meeting a famous person on the street but you had just ran into a good looking older, muscular, brunette with a few stray grey hairs. You slowly started nodding, laughing aloud at yourself at how dumb you probably looked. “ ‘M just fine.” You said breathlessly.

You started to hear the passing cars, bustle of the streets and the murmur from your phone as your friend on the line was calling out to you. “Shit, I-I gotta go.”

And your feet was guiding you away without another word but your eyes were still glued to the man as you walked away. Looking back as he watched you walk away. You chuckles as you got back on the phone with your friend, disappearing into the croud.

The second time he saw you he was heading for a tea, as he walked past ‘Walker Travel Agency.’ John glanced inside and there a woman sat— no— you, sat turning in your chair towards the computer as you spoke to someone through your Bluetooth. You were dressed in an oversized white button up, black slacks, hair now pin straight in a low ponytail, pinned back by a few purple clips with very a light blush on your cheeks.

Even dressed casually, you were a sight for sore eyes. He tried his best not to look like a creep as he finally went to go get his tea but his eyes were glued to you as he walked past the office again. He figured it was fine just this once. Twice, three times— okay, maybe a forth that was completely out of the way of the military base and his own home but this was fine.

He was just getting tea after all.

But the forth time you stood by the water cooler sipping water, you caught those blue eyes. A small smile formed on your face as he tripped a bit once he saw you finally looking back at him. You gave him a small, shy wave with your fingers before he completely passed the building. Your angelic smile growing wider as he passed the building again to get to his car.

And that continued for another week, waves and smiles and stupid blushes that made his heart jump outs until he finally got the courage to pop his head in. He’d just say hello, this was a silly crush. Nothing more, nothing less.

The doorbell chimed once the door opened and you immediately sat straight in your chair, as you were trained to do when a potential customer came in.

“I was thinking of a trip?”

No he wasn’t. He knew that, you knew that by the way he was completely dressed in military attire and kept staring at you instead of the posters of different vacation spots on the wall. But you nodded your head, gesturing for him to take a seat in front of your desk.

“Where would you like to go sir?”

You two hit it off after that. John would pop his head in, leaving thirty minutes before his lunch break even started just to get his little dose of you, before running off to get a tea. You even started making tea so he didn’t have to go to the coffee shop.

Right, it was his lunch break?

You’d made sure to start packing lunch for two and arranging meetings so your lunch break was suddenly at the same time as his. You didn’t know why you did it for your new friend, it just felt right. You made that forty something year old man feel like a teenager again, he couldn’t just sit on this crush forever. He wouldn’t.

*Care to join me for a pint after work?*

A simple text that he’d debated on for two days had him flushed.

*new message*

Don’t usually drink beer :(

Two days down the drain. Maybe he should’ve asked for dinner instead? Or a movie? A walk? Too fucking causal—

*new message*

but if you’re the one asking, how can I say no?

text me where baby :))

Gaz had to make sure he wasn’t sick before he left work that day because he was as red as a cherry tomato.

You laid it out clean to John that you weren’t ready for a relationship.

“ ‘M too flighty ya see.”

“How so?” You two had already been in the crowded pub at a booth, you’d been chatting for 3 hours already senselessly. One pint for each of you, you weren’t good with beer while John just didn’t wanna make a drunken mistake.

“I told you I’ve just been here for a year, right?”

He hummed, nodding for you to continue.

“Well I was in Brazil before that, Osaka for a couple months before that. DR, LA and France before all that.”

“Oh, you’re a real traveler I see.”

“More than you.” You smirked and John laughed, “Think you can beat me sweetheart? Been all over the world ‘nd back. Thrice over.”

You teased, “I can beat’cha soon enough, just wait on it.” You sighed, picking up your half empty glass to take a sip, “But really, a relationship right now is a no-can-do for me. I’d hate to waste yer time after you’ve been so kind t’me honey.”

“Not a single moment with you has been a waste’ve time, believe me [+].” It was gentle but stern, your fingers brushed over the table which made your heart race faster.

John was too sweet, sinkingly so. It made you question how his marriages didn’t work sometimes but you kept your mouth shut about it. You gave him a smile, “I wouldn’t mind bein fuck buddies though.”

His thick eyebrows furrowed together, “Oh John come on now, you ain’t that old!”

Friends who fucked, he knew what it was. But with you? Someone that he’d grown to care for? This was a line he preferred not to cross.

But damn, those brown eyes under the dim light, the mid length blow out that went just below your shoulders, your long sleeve flared blouse that showed off your cleavage just right, wasn’t helping. He hadn’t even realized he’d given you a ‘sounds good to me’ before you gave him an okay and went on to another topic as if you two hadn’t just agreeded to be sex partners.

The night came to a close around 10:50, John didn’t want you at the station by yourself late at night since you were a woman so he took you home.

“I’m a grown woman, John.” You insisted for the thousandth time.

“Yer a grown woman that ‘m drivin home. Exactly. Yer right.” John nodded along with you nonchalantly and you groaned into a giggling fit, no longer being able to fight with him over this.

You pulled up to your apartment and pointed out a parking spot, John followed suit. Thinking you’d probably rather get out of a parked car than hold up traffic on a Friday night.

You got out the car, looking between your apartment building and the older man.

“You wanna come up?”

John fucking Price was a god damn problem.

The first time you two fucked, was just to dip your toes in. See if the older man could handle you, keep up with what you were up to.

The second time was for good measure. You had to make sure it wasn’t an illusion! Get your bearings in order.

The third time— looking back you should’ve known that’s when he caught you. And I mean really had you for good because you’d be damned if he was fucking some other girl the way he was fucking you.

You had to have a cordial briefing with your friend group, explaining to them how you were now a born again Christian because John didn’t just have you seeing stars. No— you saw Jesus resurrecting from the tomb, legs shaking as they were wrapped around his hips. Chest to chest, as John knelt on the bed, fucking up into you through your orgasm. You’d pushed yourself away from him but he snatched you up just before you passed out.

“Stay with me lovie, can’t have you passin out on me can I?” His pink lips connected with your neck again. Your entire body was trembling. This fool, this barbarian, loooved making you a dummy on his dick. You’d learned that the second time. But this time, fuck, it was strange.

“Strange, baby, it feels- mmph s-strange.” You mumbled through a moan, you were limp as he held onto your waist with one arm, bouncing you just the way he needed you to. He was practically using you as a sex toy and you hadn’t minded. You were drooling on his shoulder and down your own face and that freak kept lapping it up. Opening your mouth so he could spit it back in you and suck on your tongue.

“Your tight little cunt squeezing me so good. You love when I suck your tongue, don’t you pretty?”

Your eyes were rolling into each other again, “loooove it sooooo much Daddy.”

“Come on, kiss me while I give it to you.” He didn’t have to tell you twice to get your lips to latch onto his. John kissed so romantic like, slow, desperate— like he was trying to mold the two of you together and you loved it. John’s thrusts got fast, barley pulling out with every swing of his hips up into your tight walls. But he kept hitting your g-spot, clit rubbing right at the bottom of his hairy abdomen. It felt amazing— too amazing—

You yankied yourself away from him again, “wait! ‘M serious- J- fuuuck- John! It’s too weird! I’m- shit- ‘m gonna pee!”

“ ‘S not pee, let it go.” He gruffed, groaning at how good you felt around his swelling cock.

“It isssss!” You whined out, slapping at his arms but he wouldn’t let up.

“Come on sweet girl, squirt all over me. Wanna be covered in you.”

And the crash came, water works flying every which way and your eyes. John came right after you, babbling about how good you were, how amazing you felt around him. But you were crying real tears now, you swore you just peed all over this older man’s thighs even though you told him it was weird. It was humiliating.

“I told you I was gonna pee, ‘nd you didn’t listen!” You hiccuped, covering your face as John laid you back on the bed. He’s eyebrow lifted as he slipped out of you, removing the filled condom and examining the situation that was now on his pudgy stomach, his thighs, your legs and the bed.

“Sweetie,” he started chuckling at how cute were being, you shoved one of your wobbly legs at his chest. It didn’t do any damage. “Have you never squirted before?”

“No,” you sniffled, “ ‘s just pee!”

“ ‘S not the same thing lovie.”

“Yes it issss!” You retorted, going to kick him again but your own leg giving up on you.

John rubbing your thighs as he got inbetween them. Your pussy was glistening in the rooms light, too mesmerized, he let the pads of two fingers take a swipe of all the juices that sat on your vulva and putting it in his mouth. He moaned at the taste.

You gasped, “John!” You hadn’t meant to see the sight through your fingers but shit, it was making you even more wet. The older saw you squirm, shaking his head, he needed a front row seat this time. He lifted your thighs over his shoulders so his mouth was right in front of your cunt.

“Gotta feel it on my tongue baby, won’t you? Please?”

You two went on like that, calling each other whenever you needed. You were always the first to know when the Captain got home, before his own family, because he’d have his fat cock in you by the time you could finish saying ‘welcome back.’

John couldn’t lie and say it was inconvenient getting to let off steam other than exercising or taking a swing of bourbon. It didn’t help that you were actually such a sweet girl, he loved being around. You two would hang out when you had the chance, going out and about or just watching a movie at home. When you were out, all dolled up in a mid thigh, navy blue sun dress and white heels showed off those gorgeous legs, curls in a high ponytail— you two looked like a sugar daddy and a sugar baby. But you never cared about the looks people gave you, you’d grab his larger hand in yours that was freshly manicured with long soft yellow nails and swing your hands back and forth. Even taking the time to introduce the man properly when you ran into your friends on the street.

“He’s a real carin, smart and just all around incredible guy I swear,” Your eyes would beam at him, so longingly then back to your friends and back to John because you always found yourself getting lost in his pretty ocean blue eyes. “I’m real thankful to have met a man like him.”

How could he have not fallin for you?

It was when you and John accidentally ran into his parents while casually hanging out in his home town he knew he just had to marry you.

You were as charismatic as ever, your southern charm easily pulling them in. John thought for sure they’d be more careful since you were younger than the past two women that John brought to meet them. But despite how eccentric you looked in your shorts that hung off your hips, waist beads around your stomach, crop top and the tattoos that his parents generation definitely weren’t used to, layered necklaces and bracelets— they easily fell for you just like he did.

“You sure ‘bout takin them out for lunch, [+]? You don’t have to.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“It’s only right to treat the folks who raised you John. They’ve done well with you, ‘nd ‘m sure your siblings ‘re just as kind. Plus I kinda wanna see more of your smile through your mom. It’s sooo fuckin cute.”

Yup.

That was right there confirmed, he was gonna put a ring on that fuckin finger. He could’ve blurted it out while at that quaint little lunch you had. His parents adored you, even got your number down to give you a call if you needed anything while you were still in the UK.

The man was gonna get you to stay in the UK.

The first time he’d asked, it was too fucking casual. Again, the man was always too eager. Tripping and falling through love was a bad habit of his. You’d laughed in his face.

“John, baby, please be serious.” You threw your braids up in a ponytail, tip toeing around the room to get your clothes. John did that on purpose, the old man always wanted a little more time with you, to see the sunrise kissing your skin perfectly as that after glow of sex looked gorgeous on you.

He’d pout under that thick beard, fuckin precious bear, “ ‘M bein serious. Want us t’get married, be happy.”

“Don’t you leave next week John?”

“So?”

You deadpanned, “John.”

Okay, he was too eager that time. He should’ve thought it though. Right, you deserved proper proposal planning. Not some random after sex question. You made your way over to that big guy, he was still naked, sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor. You bent over, that same gleam in your brown eyes that shown every time you looked at him. He could’ve fuckin melted right then and there as you placed your hands on his knees, leaving a long a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

“You call me if ya need anything John. I mean it, even if it’s those fuckin cookies-“

“—Biscuits—“

“—Whateverrr~” you giggled, lightly touching his beard as John took your waist in his hands. Shit, he’d miss you. Miss your kindness, your willingness to drop everything for him, those long lashes that fluttered when you woke up. “I’ll send ‘em yer way, letter ‘f course too. Whatever ya need, John, you let me know.”

With the softest kiss on the lips, you were on your merry way just as you usually were.

The second time John proposed, he did it right.

He had a proper ring. Simple, because you loved simple. The box was in his pants pocket the entire night, itching to get out. You went to a nice fancy dinner to a place you swore you’d only told him once about, took you for a nice stroll, your curls in a half up, half down, dress hugging you just right and John was in a dressy casual. Ultra simple, classic. He was sure he’d get a yes this time.

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to get on he knee before you’d grab his hands. Your bottom lip trembling.

“Sweetheart…”

“Need you tuh listen t’me baby, please.” You pleaded, tears already threatening to burst out like a dam.

“Now I care ‘boutcha so much John. So much that I hate myself fer puttin you in a situation like this.” You sniffled, squeezing his hand to reassure him.

“But ya can’t marry me.” John lamented.

“John—“

“—what is it then? Is it the age gap? I thought you’d gotten over it.”

“John-“ “-clothes? I’ll give it to you. Want me to shave? Done. Love? I’ve got multitudes. If it’s money- it’s yours.” He was racking his brain for something, anything that could’ve draw you to keep him near. 

“I don’t want your money John.” You cursed.

“Then what do you want?! Why can’t I give it to you?!”

“I want your happiness above all else John! But I can’t-“ your voice croaked. You let go of his hands, “I can’t give that back to ya. I know I can’t.”

“Tha’s a fuckin lie—“

“—I’m sorry John. Truly.”

Without another word, you’d ran off. Your heals clicking against the pavement, cries heard through the silent park.

You’d known John for a year but technically only about 5 months since he was away for the other seven. But you knew so much about him, he’d send letters whenever he could, call, text and be right with you when he was back because it ‘felt like the place he needed to be’. It wasn’t a shock that John had grown to love you, it was a shock that you’d grown to love him too.

It scared the living shit out of you.

So you did what you always did.

Move.

It never took you long, you always had a storage unit ready, a few cardboard boxes in the back of your closet, a new job to hire you in another country because you always knew a little bit of the language. But this time you didn’t move far enough, you didn’t have to heart to. If John were to call you right now, you would’ve dropped what you were doing and ran to him.

Which is why you blocked him on everything (even though he didn’t use social media that often).

You moved yourself to the countryside, in a much smaller apartment but in a much quieter town by the sea. You were working the front of a fish market, did you know about fish? No. Did they hire you because you were pretty and your endless list of credentials at other random places on your resume? Yes. You didn’t have a problem with blending right in, building peoples trust with ease.

It was a good and bad habit.

John on the other hand was loosing his mind because he didn’t know where the hell you were. He couldn’t call you, couldn’t text you, and you weren’t replying to his letters. Fuck, the man called his parents and they managed to get an answer but only vague answers.

He’d come to you flat after being away, rushing through (but properly taken care of) a mission because he needed to make sure you were alright. As he rung thr buzzer, he got no answer. He was lucky one of your neighbors came out and told him what had happened.

How could you have moved without telling him, of all people?

It hurt him more than anything to have a mishap like that happen and then not be able to contact you. But to move? With no explanation?

He could play cat and mouse.

He’d play it constantly in the 141, taking down terrorists and the like in less than a couple weeks— you’d be an easy find. He was sure of it.

He’d found you soon enough, a couple days, in that god damn fish market, a wide smile on your face as you talked to the multiple people who crowded the stall where you worked. Why were you working here of all places?

He ignored the growing concerns, joining the line of customers at the stall. Most of the customers having something to say to you and you encouraging more conversation as they made their orders and paid. Then it was his turn. He took a step forward and you looked up at him like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart dropped out of your ass. He looked to the fish that sat on display on ice, then to you and titled his head.

“When do you get off?”

“John-“

“-When.” The older man spoke tightly. It came out more like a statement than a question.

The lady who worked with you, Malissa, chimed in with a knowing smile, “Give ‘er an hour.”

Your eyes widened at the older woman whilst John gave her a pleased look, “I’ll be around.” John left the building and you felt your stomach turn over. You glared at Malissa and she laughed at you, “But it’s love, isn’t it [+]?”

Was it that obvious?

Couldn’t have been. As if the blush showed on your brown cheeks. You gave him the same smile you did everyone else, didn’t you? The same kindness, same glances you snuck, soft touches, and the same brushing of fingers. The way you held onto that man’s arm as you presented him to your friends like a trophy, you did the same to anyone else you admired, right? Right?

No fucking way you did. John was the one, well, situation you fully committed to head first. And you didn’t even know when that happened, you liked the thought of someone romantically caring for you, the kindness and joy that was always a package deal when being in that guys presence. Someone that took you and your hopes and dreams serious for once in your life.

Oh God, you were in deep love with John Price.

You could’ve been thrown across the field by your own heart pounding so loud when you walked out of the market. John sitting on the bench, cigar between his fingers, watching the passersbyers and then at you. He stood, nodding for you to follow him in some direction.

“Let’s take a walk.”

The tension was too damn high. You could feel it through the air as you too walked, the only sound being made was the sound of you feet on pavement, the jingle of keys, the sea in the distance. Your curls were probably a mess now, the cold air blowing every which way.

“How’ve you been?” You tried cutting through the ice, eyes finding anything else to look at.

John paused for a moment, a sigh coming out, “I didn’t think you hated me enough to block me [+].”

You winced, as if it pained you to hear those words alone. “I could never hate you John.”

“Then why-“ another frustrated sigh, “You switched jobs to avoid me!”

You squinted your eyes, “Why would you wanna see me after that John!? There was nothing more to say. I was trying to make your life easier!”

“And why would life be easier without you?” His eyebrows furrowed, hand on his hip. He kept rubbing his face.

You opened your mouth to say something, try to get out of the mess you made but nothing would come out. John wanted to laugh at this but it’s not like it would be genuine. Scoffing, he flicked the end of the cigar to the ground. You were like a Hurricane, create a mess to keep people away but right at the center, there was a serene calm. Only soft winds. You didn’t know what you were doing with yourself. John, saw that.

“I’ll take you home.”

“I can walk from here though.”

John gently took your hand in his, looking down at you with sincerity in his blue eyes. “You know how I feel about you bein alone like this. Let me take you home.”

It didn’t take much convincing, it was just a short 5 minute drive from the hills you stood now to your flat. John opened the door to the car for you, making sure you were safely tucked in before slamming it shut and getting in the drivers side. He drove off, down to the main road but then passed the street you had pointed out.

“Where we going?”

“Home.”

“But my place is-“

“—[+], please.” His jaw was clenched, gripping the wheel and your thigh. “You hate it so much, you yell to the rooftops that ya hate me. Despise every breath I breathe. I’ll stop right now.”

Like you would. You huffed, crossing your arms and looking out the window.

John didn’t get irritated easy. Patience was a vertue, that’s what his parents told him all the time. After two marriages you’d think the man would’ve learned by now.

But the man was starving for you, aching to have you say you were his and he was yours after all this and you still not knowing what you wanted— he’d make the decision for you.

You would be his wife and you two were getting married.

The thought of John being mean hadn’t crossed your mind once.

John Price who was usually so gentle, tapping your thigh so you could move yourself in whatever position he wanted you in, grabbing pillows so it would be easier on you, always checking if you were alright every take you reached you high.

That was not the John you were dealing with right now. He was manhandling however he wanted, both hands on your ass cheeks, legs over his arms, slamming you up and down on his cock and letting you cum over and over. Till he had enough of you in that position and fucked you right on the floor, your back getting carpet burn in front of the bedroom door that you didn’t get the chance to close.

And fuck, you thought it was heavenly before, him raw was otherworldly. You felt every ridge, every vein, every twist of his throbbing manhood, every once of precum that made your walls even wetter than they already were.

“Gonna fill you up-“

“—John- mmm- you can’t-“

He grunted, swatting your hands that tried to push him away.

“Gonna fill ya up like a good husband should,” the man’s nodding at his own words, already pussy drunk. But he was speaking words that he’s held back for months. “gotta getcha ready for when we have a baby.”

You hiccuped, John was talking crazy. A baby? A marriage? With John? And he’s whispering it all in your ear. This was tooooo much— too full—

“John i-it’s too deep! I- shit- gimmie a second—“

He pouted, fucking pouted, as if he didn’t know he was pushing his fat, veiny, cock to the fucking hilt of you. Your ankles somehow at the back of your head, “Can’t ya see it baby? You, waddlin around with our baby inside you-“ John hissed, you just kept clenching around him perfectly everytime he thrusted into his “-In a new house- haaah— after we broken it in ‘f course. Gotta break it in for good- fuckin- measure. Little ones running around, an office for daddy ‘nd a office for mummy— It’ll be perfect.”

You didn’t even realize you were cumming, your ears were just ringing, cunt contracting around Johns dick like you were aching for it.

You’d never in your life had a man cum inside you, but my God. John, this old barbarian, was gonna get you addicted to each and every single shot of cum that came from his leaking tip that reached inside your deepest place.

“Fuck, gotta give you another baby.”

John was determined to fuck you into delerium, you’d pass out after cumming so much and wake up to John sucking his cum out of you. Water breaks? The older man is sipping it and putting it in your mouth. Felt stuffy in the bedroom? No problem, John’s moving you to the bathroom to fuck you there with your leg propped up on the bath tub, the wall in the hallway looked like it was missing your face being pressed into it as John drilled you from behind.

Hungry? John’s feeding you whatever he cooked up the thirty minutes he’d left your bruised pussy alone, and then having you cock warm him in the fucking kitchen. All while kissing all over you, how you were such a pretty wife on his dick.

“We gonna get married John?” You slurred out, sticking your thumb in his mouth then sticking it in yours and moaning at the taste. Sweet.

You were fucked out, if the man said he was gonna max out your cards right now he could’ve. But you were, in fact, his finance. Right then and there, no one could convince you otherwise.

“S-Say that again sweetheart?”

You gripped the back of his neck your your hand, getting him to look at you head on, pecking his lips once. Twice. Three times, “You said you’d make me your wife, you’d really do that John? Make me a wife? Won’t get tired of me?”

“Oh birdie, h-how could I ever get tired of you? I-I’m in love you you.”

“Really? I love- I love yooouu John.” Your hips practically rolled on their own, the captain throwing his head back against the headboard for dear life.

“Fuck mee lovie— whatever you want, whateverrr you fucking want.” His hands found your hips, guiding you just the way you needed to get off. Slow, mean— loving.

“G-god, so amazin, amazin John! Wan’ a chapel wedding -ngghh- You, me, some rings and that fuckin preist,”

“ ‘F course baby, course.” John was stammering out words, he could barley keep up now. Fuck, rings. Those fucking rings— “wait baby, gimmie a second.”

“But John,” you keened, hating the idea of being apart for even a millisecond. Oh you’d be the death of that old man. And he wouldn’t’ve minded dying in your sopping cunt knowing you wanted to marry him.

He’d marry you from hell if he had to.

He reached out to the nightstand, an arm hooked around your waist to keep you close as you sloppily rode him, fumbling to grab the black box he placed there yesterday.

Some how he managed to get that box open, two golden rings sat inside. He grabbed yours, tossing the box to the side and slipping the ring on the proper finger.

“Oh! It’s sooo pretty John!” You moaned, eyes stuck to the ring, heart eyes practically forming in your pupils as you looked at the man who was balls deep inside you.

“Come on wife, you know how to cum for your future husband don’t you?”

“You keep looking at it.”

“ ‘S just so nice John.”

It was a single gold ring that fit your finger perfectly, the matching one that you asked to put on John once woke you up. You two were completely knocked out after two days of going at it like animals. You couldn’t feel your legs and your voice was an inch off from being shot. But you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You loved being engaged, you loved John, and you loved the thought of a future with him.

“You wanna have a small wedding, don’t you?” John entangled your fingers together, his other hand caressing your thighs. The sunshine was shining through the window of the dim room.

“I’d prefer if it was just you ‘nd me. We can do somethin with your family later. I-I think it’ll be real intimate ‘f it’s just us. Like the movies-“

The older man’s eyes crinkled, “Oh, so you’ve thought about it?”

You scuffed, “I’d be silly not to think about marryin you at least once, John.”

Price opened his mouth, feeling more than shy at his grown age. He stuttered, “No take backs, alright? You gotta marry me now.”

You hooked your ring finger with his John’s matching one, giving it a quick kiss.

“No take backs.”

a/n: it’ll be a miracle if anyone even reads all this. if you did, leave me a message or comment if you liked it or if you hated it pls I wanna hear your thoughts.

[literallymechanical]

GOd okay I went to my neighbor’s housewarming, and don’t get me wrong, I love parties (if everybody doesn’t give me  all of their attention all the time and tell me that i’m smart and funny and pretty I’ll DIE), but I forget how stressful it is to introduce yourself to new people when you work in a politically charged field.  The whole evening was this:

Party Guest:  So, have you lived in the area long?

[Okay, let’s think. White male, thirties, tall, muscle tee, sandals, wedding ring, but here without a partner.  I just overheard him complaining about tariffs, so he’s either left-leaning or a disillusioned republican.  Good sign, definitely not MAGA.  Ah, that’s right, he brought his daughters – ages 5 and 7, well-behaved in a crowd – and they’re wearing princess dresses… doting father with an active role in raising his kids, lets them choose their own outfits… my gut is telling me heterosexual male feminist.  That could be good or bad – statistically speaking, he believes in climate change… but that means 50/50 odds of anti-nuclear sentiment.  I need more information, but I must answer carefully.  We’re rapidly approaching the Question.]

Me: Not long!  I just moved down from Boston a few months ago –

[Ball is in his court.  Boston has been in the news lately for being an immigrant sanctuary city, but that’s mostly local news – I’ll get information based on body language.  Oh, I may have made a tactical error.  This is an opportunity for sports rivalry to come up, and I am ill-educated on the subject.  Quick, I need a counter maneuver.] 

Me: – but I actually grew up in the area.

[Good save, and a decent delaying action.  If he takes the bait, I can redirect the conversation to local childhood reminiscence.  He’s had two margaritas, and they’re starting to affect him – talking a bit too loud, and his expansive hand gestures bespeak more than typical New Jerseyan gregariousness.  That could be to my advantage… unless it makes him too bold].

Party Guest:  Coming back home for family, or is it a work thing?

[Shit, okay, he asked about work.  This could be the endgame… but he’s foolishly thrown me a lifeline.  I can’t lie, the hosts already know the real answer, but I can dissemble by playing to his fatherly conversational weak spots.]

Me:  I moved for work, but my family does live nearby, so that’s a nice perk as well.  I get to see my nephews a lot more often!  The eldest just turned five.

[That should do it.  My nephews are about the same age as his kids, which will build a rapport and redirect the conversation back to himself.  It should be easy to get him talking about his daughters.  Unless… oh no.  He’s two drinks in on a Sunday night and working on a third in front of his children, while his wife stays home.  She wakes up earlier than him, potentially much earlier.  He’s been talking about the economy a lot.  Damn, recently laid off?  He’s going to focus on work.]

Party Guest: That’s awesome.  What sort of job?

[The brilliant bastard.  He’s good, he’s very good.  Truly a worthy opponent.  Pierced right through every single gambit and went straight to the Question. Have I met my match? Will I finally be humbled?  It’s do or die.]

Me:  I’m an engineer at an energy company.

[Alea iacta est.]

Party Guest:  Energy?

[Last chance.  He's intelligent and fiendishly clever, but hope against hope that he’s more well-read in Aristotle than Rutherford.  This should dead-end him]

Me:  Nuclear, kind of. Fusion, not fission.

Party Guest:  Oh, that sounds cool.

Me:  Mhm.  So, how do you know Bill and Stephanie?

Party Guest:  I was in film school with Bill.  Have you seen his documentary?

[Ha. Another victory, all the sweeter for having been hard-fought. Time for a celebratory cornichon, maybe some crackers]

[monstersholygrail]

he's a motherfucking bunny, he has the stamina to pound me for a couple rounds so i aint complaining

This is about Bunny Secretary and fuck is it relatable.

Bunny Secretary is usually very work oriented. He’s actually quite feared around the office because he’s as stern and strict about productivity as their boss is. He doesn’t like the feeling of sitting still and doing nothing when there’s constantly so much to do.

But all of that goes flying out the window when you start at the office. He’s usually very good about getting a quick fuck in during his release break and then getting back to work after he cleans his partner up. With you though he finds hours passing in minutes.

He could seriously get lost in your sweet dripping holes. All thoughts and worries fly out the window when his cock is inside you. Moans spew from his lips and he can’t even hold them back if he wanted to. You just feel too good.

It takes every bit of strength inside him to focus on anything else whenever he’s fucking you. It’s new for him to not prioritize work but you seem to come before everyone.

So instead of making you get any real work done for the day, your job is quickly reduced to sitting on his cock. Throughout the day you switch between riding him till you’ve both cum at least three times and just cockwarming him. But he scarcely lets you leave his lap.

Even when you’re hungry or need to go to the bathroom. This is your job now and he expects your dedication to it. His beliefs twisting and warping in order to suit the need that builds inside of him whenever he gets you in his arms.

You could be moaning and writhing, in a mix of pleasure and pain, but he still wouldn’t let you up. Not unless he needs to get up or until the clock hits five and the workday is done. Until then you’re his and his alone.

He’ll fuck more rounds into you than you can take. If you can take it then he’ll merely reward you for a job well done.

[1-800-adore-me]

Quickies are never possible with Caleb .

🍎nsfw warning (18+) + tags:, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names (baby, honey, sweetie/sweetheart, princess, etc…), biting, praise kink, big cock, deep creampie, overstimulation, inappropriate usage of Caleb’s evol [ 1.3k words | porn without plot ] [A/N: i really want to write about Caleb using his mechanical arm...]

Here’s the thing that you quickly realized with Caleb ever since the two of you have became intimate: You could never do quickies with him. 

And it is very hard to say no to quickies when it comes to Caleb, especially with those big puppy eyes of his. It’s that sweet voice that he possesses that can easily fog your judgement. “Just 5 minutes, princess. It’s all I ask for, okay? I won’t take long, sweetie. I just- I just need you right now, yeah? Understand me, sweetheart? I just need to feel you real quick and we can get going, okay?” 

And who were you to deny him? Ever since you guys were little, you were always weak to his wishes. If Gran asked if you wanted to go to the grocery store with her and get some snacks, you would say no - giving an excuse of something like: “I’m tired” or “I have homework to do.”

Oh, but if Caleb asked you to? It didn’t matter if you pulled 2 all-nighters straight to study for an exam or if you barely woke up a minute ago, you were already rushing to put on your clothes and head out. Sure, you’d complain about how he decided to go at an inconvenient time but really, you were just happy to be by his side. With that sweet smile of his that is only seen with you, it felt like you needed nothing else from the world. 

Which is why Caleb was currently drilling his big, thick cock inside your sopping wet cunt right now. This all happened because you couldn’t muster a simple “no” to his request after he walked in on you changing after a shower. You knew that your period was going to come soon so in order to prepare for it, you shaved your pubic hair so it wouldn’t get too messy down there. Just when you were slipping on your underwear, Caleb walked in to see the sight of your plush, bare pussy. It began with a simple - “Just let me feel you, baby. Just real quick, okay? I’ll even wash you again after.”

Perhaps you wanted this to happen as well because if you were stronger, you could’ve easily said ‘no’. But was it really your fault that his voice was just so irresistible? 

“Aah-...! Haahn- C-Caleb! Caleb…!” His name, along with your dirty moans, were the only sounds that could be made from your drooling mouth. He was on top of you, relentlessly pumping his hard cock in and out of your pussy that was just gushing juices everytime his shaft pulled out of you. He thought that it was so cute that your cunt didn’t want to let go of him. 

“What is it, princess?” He’d say in a playful tone, chuckling as he did so. “What do you want me for, baby? You’re saying my name so much… You always say my name so pretty.” He teased the opening of your mouth with his thumb, which you then began sucking as if he had another cock. You could see that his eyes darkened with lust as you licked and teased his tongue before enveloping your soft lips around his digit. 

When he dragged his cock out of your pussy, only leaving his thick tip inside, before bucking his hips forward and shoving it all back inside, you bit down on his thumb to contain your cries. He hissed at the pain, letting out another rich chuckle from his throat. 

“You want to give me another bite mark again, honey? Go ahead, give me everything you have. I’ll take it all so long as it’s you.” He pressed his pelvis closer to yours, trying to get deeper into your cunt. You could feel him reaching the depths of your sobbing pussy and the only thing that you could do was take all of Caleb inside of you. Along with that, he decided to torture you by rubbing your swollen clit with his large, big fingers. Your soft walls clenched around his thickness as you began squirting now - your mouth opening to let out a cry.

Your squirts began dirtying his abs, soaking it with all of your slick and wetness. He let out a dark laughter, satisfied by your adorable reaction to him fucking the shit out of you. 

Caleb continued to fuck you as you orgasmed, enjoying the feeling of your walls getting wetter and tighter with every spasm he forced out of you. He felt delirious now, moaning as he felt you give him everything you had from your cunt. - “Fuuck, baby… You feel so fucking good inside. You’re taking my big cock so good with your pretty ltitle cunt, honey.” You tried to get up and slap away his hand in order to stop the overstimulation but you quickly felt his evol stopping you - forcing you to stay in your current position. You were just a fuckdoll laying down on his bed, forced to take whatever torture he wished to lay on you. 

You started sobbing as he didn’t stop thrusting inside of you nor did he stop his fingers from playing with your swollen bundle of nerves. Your hips began squirming down and you, yourself, were unsure if you really wanted him to stop or not. 

He leaned down to start to kiss you, tasting all of the sweet gummies that he had bought you earlier. One of his free hands intertwined itself with yours, a kind gesture that contrasted how brutal his thrusts were. He was fucking you into the mattress, as if he was trying to get inside your womb room.

The sound of skin slapping against another rang out in his bedroom, along with your cries and moans that you couldn’t help let out. - “Be a good girl for me and cum again, princess. Who’s making you cum? Say my name again with that pretty mouth of yours.” And in response, you moaned out his name again as if it was the only word you knew. Happy with your response, he dragged out his cock until the tip was the only thing left inside, and then slammed it inside of you again. A wet plap! noise was heard, along with your screams. The mattress underneath you was absolutely drenched with cum, slick, and squirt - all because Caleb needed to see you be absolutely ruined underneath him. 

“-Mmph… mmm! Baby, I’m so close… I’m gonna go fast now, okay? I’ll let it all in your baby room, sweetheart. Let’s make a cute baby, yeah?” He said against your neck as he began suckling the sensitive skin and nipping at it with his teeth. You weren’t even sure if you could cover them with your Hunter uniform as he began biting the very center of your throat, making you squirm against his evol. His hold on your hand tightened as you felt his brutal pace began going faster. You could feel his cock begin pulsating as he released his seed deep inside of you, pumping in a few last thrusts into your abused pussy in order to make sure that your womb was drinking every single last drop of his precious cum. He whispered your name against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. - “So good, you feel so fucking good… You’re milking me, honey…”

The feeling of his thick cum filling you up made you begin squirting again as you both climaxed together. Your poor abused cunt was grinding against his cock still inside of you, the both of you moaning as you rode your orgasms. 

When you felt Caleb release his evol, you sat up and grabbed his face - kissing him deeply as you craved his every person. You needed him more than ever as your mind slowly became more delirious as well. 

He chuckled against your lips as you two took a small break to breathe. “Looks like someone is ready for round two then?” 

Perhaps this was why you would never believe Caleb asking you for quickies. 

[bumpkinspice0]

Office Hours

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: A few months into working back at the mansion and Logan still can't keep his hands off you. A/N: This is vaguely tied to my other Logan fic "No One Knows…" but not at all required reading. All you need to really know is reader is a returning X-Man that can control Earth/ rocks and is codenamed Dozer (Short for Bulldozer) Warnings: S M U T, medium plot??? but mostly just porn, established relationship, under desk blowjobs, office sex, light dom/ sub, a single spank possessive Logan (Someone needs to put me down)

AO3 if you prefer to read there

Logan Masterlist

_______

The morning light pours in through the windows of your bedroom. Logan holds you close against him in bed while you, less than enthusiastically, try to squirm out of his grasp.

A few months back into your old life at X-mansion and you can confidently say it was the best decision you’d ever made in a long, long time. All the kids returned to a brand new environmental science teacher and a newly reconstructed mansion that somehow looked almost exactly the same— give or take a few changes to the gardens.

You’d missed this, you missed being part of the X team, whether it was as an X-Man or just a teacher. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were making a real tangible difference in people's lives. 

Yes, you desperately wanted to return to your roots and start over— but he was also a nice perk to all the chaos. 

Your relationship with Logan was just as new as your employment in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He reeled you in like a fish on a hook. Whatever the two of you had, it was nice. You think it had been a long time since he had something like this too. Someone to care for. Someone to please. 

Neither of you could keep your hands off each other. 

It was too early for ‘I love you’s’ or to declare something like moving in together, but he already spent most nights in your room as it was. If he didn’t spend the night he’d find you in the early morning just to hear you moan his name. That boy was determined never to let you sleep— not that you’re really complaining.

You’d never had a lover like Logan. Someone so… starved. He craved your touch, rambled on about your scent, and held you on the edge for what felt like hours. It was all new and some parts of it, admittedly, a little weird, but fuck was it exciting. 

You’d started a new life for yourself, more or less. Started over, more accurately. And he was there to soften all the blows. You hope you did the same for him. 

You can’t believe you thought he ever had ulterior motives about you when you came back. Once you found out you both had more similar pasts than you’d realized, you were sure the only thing he'd want was information from you. How glad you were to be wrong. 

Victims of the same cruelty but you were both different. You still had your memories. Your identity. He didn't. 

You vowed to help find out who he was, and that seemed to mean more to him than anything— but it was a slow process. Old information and long abandoned facilities. Still, you had each other through all of this and that helped the pain, just a little. Facing your demons together. 

Right now, however, Logan was your only tangible demon. He still had you trapped in bed and late for class. 

“Just a quickie,” he purrs, nibbling at your ear.  

“I have a class to teach in 20 minutes. You should have gotten here earlier,” You muster up any strength you have against him, “And it’s never quick with you.”

“Or you just don’t want it to be quick,” His mouth finds your bare shoulder, already marked with week's worth of love bites from him. You can’t deny the trill of excitement it sends through you.

This fucking man. 

You want to. Lord in heaven, you really, really want to. Sometimes this being a responsible mentor thing got in the way.

“Logan…” You push lightly against his chest. It’s not much of a protest, really. None of your weak-willed squirming was.

“Okay… okay,” His grip around your waist finally loosens and you reluctantly get out of bed. He gives your ass a playful spank as you do. 

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You scold him with a smile as you dig through your dresser for anything that was clean. 

“Got a good reason to be,” He grins, resting his arms behind his head and stretching out over the bed. You can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks. Logan never missed an opportunity to compliment you. 

You, a little reluctantly, pull on a pair of jeans and one of his white shirts. Slowly but surely all your laundry was getting intermingled to the point of no return. That and you know he always liked when you wore something of his. You don’t think any of your own tee-shirts were clean anyway.

Yeah, it’s probably time to do laundry. 

You top it off with a loose black cardigan to seem somewhat teacherly. You gather your folders with today’s syllabus. You had three classes today. Logan usually had two— if you could you really call PE and survival basics a class. The kids usually just roped him and Kurt into playing flag football with them. It was adorable in its own Logany way.

“I’ll see you out there, Professor Logan,” you give him a peck on the forehead before shimming on your shoes. 

“God, don’t ever call me that again.” He chuckles, covering his face with his forearm.

“Would you prefer daddy?”

His hand immediately drops, “Don’t tempt me, darlin’.”

You’re at the door now, giving yourself one last moment to admire the perfect man sprawled out in your bed.

“Don’t sleep in too late,” you open the door. 

“See you out there, toots.”

______

There are only a few more warm days left in fall and you refuse to let them go to waste. You always liked holding classes outside anyway. This was Environmental Science after all. As an earthmover, it always felt natural. Feeling the actual ground under your feet made everything easier to teach in a way. 

You’re teaching the different types of erosion this week. The class is gathered on the grass on the edge of the pond as you hover different rocks around them. Examples of river-smoothed stones, bed clay, and a few from the Grand Canyon you’d brought in from your personal collection. 

You’d never thought of yourself as the best teacher but the kids seemed to at least enjoy the theatricality. You knew dirt. You knew the earth, and that seemed to be enough.

You hear the PE class run out onto the other side of the lawn, Logan dutifully following behind them. You don’t even need to look to feel his eyes on you. You're not sure if you're irritated by the distraction or think it’s a little cute he wants to be near you.

Well, if he’s going to distract you and your class, you might as well distract him. The kids had started a game of frisbee golf, something his full attention didn’t need to be on anyway.  Logan always joked he was just a glorified babysitter. You take off your cardigan when you feel a small gust of wind. His head immediately snaps your direction when you do. 

He’d told you before he liked the mix of your scents. The more animalistic part of him liked it anyway. He always seemed ashamed of it, despite your insistence you didn’t care. You could never truly understand, sure, but that didn’t change your feelings for him. Besides, you didn’t mind feeding the animal every once in a while. 

You’d reached the end of your class period and quickly dismissed your students, reminding them of the homework as they scurried back into the mansion. You remain outside, cleaning up the small mess your lesson had made. 

You still feel Logan’s eyes on you. You can’t help the excitement his gaze stirs in you. Logan did something to you no other man had ever done— he made you feel desirable in ways you’d never experienced. 

It was an incredible turn-on, to say the least.

You feel your panties slowly start to wetten. You see a shift in his posture in the distance. You smile, bending over to pick up the loose papers you’d left on a nearby bench. You pause there far longer than you needed to— just a small tease but you know it’s something that’ll drive you crazy. He always said he liked you in these jeans the most.

You feel his eyes burning into your back the entire walk to the mansion. You can’t help but smile.

______

You're leaning against the front of your desk, looking over tomorrow's lesson, when you hear his signature booming steps hurrying down the hallway. It’d been an hour since your last class ended. He enters the office, closing the door behind him immediately. 

“Professor Logan,” You greet him teasingly, leaning back against the desk. 

He says nothing as he stalks towards you with heavy steps, crashing his mouth into yours. You pull him in as he inserts his body between your legs. His mouth is hungry against yours— desperate even. His lips trail down to your jaw.

“You think you’re cute, huh? Prancing around in my clothes, showing off your ass, gettin’—”

“I’m very cute,” you giggle as he nips at you.

He growls, pulling you up to lead you back to the desk chair. He liked it when you sat on his lap. It was both of your lunch breaks. You’d always spend them together, though usually not in your shared office.

Charles required everyone to have office hours, even Logan. He fought it every step of the way until he finally relented to just sharing yours. He was almost never here. He didn’t have a reason to be— well unless you were there. His desk sits across from yours just as bare as the day it was put in. Yours, on the other hand, was quickly cluttering as the school year went on.

“Still worked up from this morning,” Logan admits as he nips at your lip, “Need you, sweet thing.”

Absolutely insatiable.

“Poor boy,” You tease, your hands slowly trailing down to his obnoxious belt buckle. “I’ll take care of you.”

You always liked to tease him more than you’d care to admit. He’d get so worked up over the smallest things. You were always happy to indulge him… every fucking time. 

You sink down to your knees, pulling his jeans with you. His cock bulges out against his boxers, already hard and waiting. You palm at him, giving him a rough squeeze through the fabric. He hums in approval. God, he always felt so good.

There’s almost a sigh of relief when you pull him free. You give him a few rough strokes before your tongue follows, trailing up from his base and swirling around his tip, pre cum already leaking free. His rough hands grip your hair as you lavish his cock with your tongue. 

You pause at the tip, placing a single feather light kiss before taking him completely into your mouth. He chokes out a strangled moan, doing his best to stay quiet. Luckily, the walls of the mansion were thick. 

The grip in your hair tightens as you find a rhythm. 

“T-that's it,” his voice is shaky, dripping with pleasure, “Just like that. Good girl.”

He always praised you. Whether giving or receiving, he always made sure you felt seen. 

A part of this excited you so much. It was scandalous, having him splayed out like this at your work desk, doing your best to suppress the moans that brew in your throat from the thrill of it all. You loved making him fall apart. This was just as much for him as it was for you. You were both having fun. Both acting like giddy, horny, little teenagers. 

His grip in your hair shifts, and you feel him tense under you. He can’t be close already? Before you have time to ask what’s going on you’re being shoved underneath your own desk. You want to scream what the absolute fuck?! before you hear the office door being clicked open.

“Logan?” It's Scott’s voice. 

“What?” Logan bites out, leaning over the front of the desk to conceale you completely. Thank god Charles always insisted on these massive solid oak desks.

“I’m just— You’re sitting at Dozer’s desk,” Scott stammers out. 

“Had something I needed,” he quickly lied. 

You’re cramped into a wooden box basically, one of the walls being made out of thick muscled legs with a heavy cock still hanging between them. You were playing a game with Logan, might as well make it more interesting. 

“Have you seen her?” Scott asks, “I needed—”

“No.” Logan only grits out, “She’s probably down in the—”

He cuts himself off the moment your hand grasps his cock again. You can’t help but smile when you run your tongue back up the velvet length. He can’t move his arms because that would expose you. He can’t move his legs because there’s not enough room with you between them. He’s stuck here while you torture him in the sweetest way possible. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps when you take him back into your mouth. 

“She’s where Logan?” Scott, blissfully unaware, prompts him.

“I don’t— I don’t fucking know,” You swear you can almost feel him shaking with the effort to keep his voice steady, “Why don’t you go fucking look for her then, huh?”

There isn’t as much room to move your head as you’d like, so you let your tongue and hands do most of the work. 

“Well, can I just get on her computer?” You hear Scott take a step closer. Oh no, “I just need a—”

“Piss off, Summers!” He practically growls it out. “You need her then go fucking find her.”

You hear Scott scoff as he takes a step back. To be fair, this was completely in character for the two of them. It was doubtful Scott suspected anything. You reach up and give Logan’s balls a gentle fondle while you worship his tip with your tongue as silently as you can.

Finally, you hear Scott retreat to the hallway. 

“I don’t know why she’s with you, Logan. I really don’t.” He spits before slamming the door behind him. 

Logan doesn’t waste a second once the door is closed again, pushing the chair back and grabbing your face roughly. His cock falls from your mouth with a wanton gasp. You must look like a mess but can’t bring yourself to care.

He just holds you there for a moment, your mouth just inches away from his cock. His eyes have glossed over with lust. He loved this, you know he fucking loved this because you did too. 

“You’re trouble,” he says, pulling you both to standing, “You’re so much fucking trouble.”

He turns you around and bends you over the desk immediately, a few pencil cups shaking with the force. He yanks down your jeans a little rougher than you’d like but you still kick them off the rest of the way. Your underwear still remained in place. He kicks your legs wider and trails a hand up your back, pressing his palm down between your shoulders. His other hand drips between your legs, a finger rubbing over your clothed pussy.

“Fucking soaked through already?” he purrs. “You get wet sucking my cock, baby?”

“Yes.” It practically comes out as a plea. Well, it’s only fair he’s toying with you now. Your legs are almost shaking in anticipation. 

You squirm as he starts to rub the damp fabric directly over your clit. His hand on your back presses you down harder, pinning you in place. He’s doing what you did to him— in his own way. Trapped at his mercy. 

He pushes your underwear to the side, two fingers running through your slick folds a few times before delving in. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, barely successful in silencing yourself. He curls his fingers, back and forth as he works his hand up and down. Anyone could walk in that door at any moment. Logan would stop if he heard anyone coming again—right?

“You know what you do to me?” His voice is ragged, almost pained, “Fuck, do you have any idea?”

His pace is speeding up and your restraint is slipping, but there’s nothing you can do to get out of this. And, fuck you don’t want him to stop either. You’re completely his right now. 

You finally let out a wail when rips his hand out of your cunt and slaps it across your ass. His touch stays there, gripping the stinging skin, sharp pain quickly melting to the pleasure that was racking your whole body. He takes his other hand off your back. You don’t move, your stomach stirring in anticipation.

It feels better than it should when his hard, massive cock runs over your soaked pussy. He’d dialed up all of your nerves to eleven. You involuntarily ach back into him like a fucking bitch in heat.

“Oh Christ, why are you with me…” he lines himself up, “That’s what Summers said, right? He doesn’t know why you’re with me?”

“Logan—” You attempt to speak up before the air in your lungs vanishes when he thrusts inside of you in one jarring motion. He stays there a good moment, grinding his hips into your ass, gathering himself. God, he was so fucking deep. He draws out and slams back in again. You hear the desk creaking in protest this time, several items falling off. 

He leans over you, hot tongue trailing up your spine before nuzzling his face in next to your ear. 

“I know why,” He starts to roll his hips against yours. His imposing body and magic dick were taking over every sense you had. God, you wish you could scream. “It’s because you know no one else can fuck you like I can. Can take care of you like I can.”

He nips at your ear as he finds a pace, tiny low grunts escaping in rhythm with his hips. This was just as much about dominating you as it was about being as close to you as humanly possible. Mixing your scents and desires together until the line is blurred between the two. Yes, Logan fucked you unlike anyone else had, and your certain better than anyone else ever could, but he also loved you harder than you ever knew possible. 

Loyal to a fault. It’s instincts, he always said. You always hated when he compared himself to an animal, but in a lot of ways it's just part of who he was. He seemed past trying to deny it and embrace it in his own way. Let the beast free, so to speak. 

“Tell me,” He growls into your ear, “Tell me who makes you feel this good.”

You struggled to form the single-word answer, but it eventually came out, whined and shaky. 

“Y-y-you,” you swear you’re drooling, “O-only you, b-baby. O-only—” You trail off, likely losing all brain function to the intoxicating filth of it all. 

“That’s right. T-that’s right,” he chants a few times like he’s fucking praising himself for it, “Only me. You’re all mine. I’m all yours.”

You’re not sure if it’s a gasp of surprise or pain that escapes you when he lifts you both. He holds you against him, still fucking you while you’re both standing. You’re forced to stand on your tiptoes, your hands grasping onto the forearm around your chest for any sense of balance. You weighed nothing to him. He’s still fucking you senseless. He’s holding you both up and still fucking you senseless.

You swear you go blind when his other hand snakes down to your clit. 

“Shoulda stayed in bed this morning,” His stubble rubs against your cheek, “Wouldn’t have to fuck you like this if we— shit— if we had time this morning.”

“L–Logan, I–I—” You start to warn him but can’t manage to get it all out. Nevertheless, you’re sure he knows. He always knows when you’re close. You feel it, the mounting pressure at your core. Sweet, precious relief. 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

It hits you like a train, hard and almost completely by surprise. The hand around your chest immediately comes up to clamp around your mouth. You scream against his palm while he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, practically using you like a goddamn sex toy at this point. 

He mutters out a string of curses while he attempts to maintain his equilibrium— and eventually fails. He collapses back into the chair behind him, dragging you with him. He almost slips out. Almost. He holds you close against his chest, hips completely still against your ass as he pulses rope after rope into you.

“Good girl, good girl,” you hear him muttering into your neck like a prayer. 

Your haggard moans into his hand eventually fade into one long heavy sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax against him. You feel his body unwind as well, his previously firm hand over your mouth coming to stroke your cheek. His lips lull around your neck, placing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss wherever he could reach. He was always so gentle after sex. Those hands that were so rough just a moment ago gently glide over your skin. You always find comfort in their heft. 

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you finally ask, leaning your head back against his. 

“Fuck ‘em if they did,” he nuzzles himself right under your jaw. Close— he always had to be so close. 

“Charles is gonna fire us if he ever finds out,” you bring your hands up to your face, rubbing into your eyes just a little too hard.

“You can’t fire an X-Man.”

“Teachers, Logan, we’re teachers.” Ah good, the mortification was settling in just in time to ruin the moment. Fabulous. 

“Stop it,” you swear you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“He’s gonna read our minds and see what absolute animals we are and he’s gonna fire us.” The irony that you're saying this out loud while Logan is still fully inside you in your shared office is not lost on you. You feel his chest bouncing against your back, chuckling lightly at your dismay of your surely oncoming termination. You can’t help but laugh along with him, just a little. 

You eventually untangle your bodies and fish your pants off the floor. Maybe you had time for a shower before your next class. Christ, you need one. Logan wasn’t the only mutant with advanced senses in the school and the last thing you need is teenagers starting a rumor mill about two teachers fucking in their office. Still, when you look back at Logan you know you’d do it all over again regardless.

Whatever this was with him, whatever you’d started, you know you can’t stop it. The thought should terrify you, but for once you’re not afraid.

You reach out and grab his hand, “Wanna grab lunch?”

“Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.”

[somelamefandomreference]

legit sick to my stomach. backed myself into a corner with my assignments and major projects. again. 100% in the deepest shit I’ve ever managed to find myself in academically. I can only blame myself.

It’s like, I want to learn, but when there’s a short time limit or a deadline my brain automatically goes “nope. not doing it. it’s too much” until maybe five minutes before. And when there’s a long deadline or other time limit my brain just goes “ughh not now” forever until the inevitable time limit/deadline does come and then it’s “oh my goddd why didn’t you do this you pigeon shit” and honestly I’m just tired of existing in this particular consciousness can someone please factory reset my brain

[salemlunaa]

𓆉 ˚∘ WHY ARE YOU STILL DOING THIS TO YOURSELF?

what are you waiting for? just do it

This meditation is all you need, stop scrolling and do it now, you could've had your dream life, 3 hours ago, a day ago, or even 5 minutes ago. But you continue to doomscroll and then get upset at the time wasted, you're only harming yourself and it makes no sense to me how this information is priceless yet you want to scroll and scroll and scroll for what. There is no epiphany to be had, do you know why so many complain about our community being repetitive?

Because there is only one truth, there is no "click" that is needed for a godly being. You're looking for something that doesn't exist and you're wasting your days. Then you find a post that has made it click for you, for about 5 hours before you retreat back to the app with your tail behind your legs, to look for more "helpful posts" as if you don't already know everything.

Get out of here for real, you know how, it may be validating to like those memes about failing and like that posts about others who have had it hard, but you don't have to be like that anymore.

Why obsess over success stories when you can be one? What is scrolling actually doing for you? This community is nice but why do you want to stay more than you need to?

leave, you know how. yes, you do. Do not stay here longer than you need to, this community is the train station helping you get on that train (the void) to get to your desired destination (your dream life). We have given you the details to really get on that train, why are you still at the station? What is it doing for you? The people at the station are lovely people, but wouldn’t your dream destination be nicer? Days bleed into months and months to years, and next thing you know it’s 2028 and you’re still at the station. Why?

Your parents may make small talk with people on the plane to your vacation, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to get off that plane. The fellow passengers may be a vibe, but the vacation will obviously be better and that’s what they came on the plane for, to be transported to their destination not to stay on the plane and make friends. It’s nice to know that there are people going to the same destination as you, but not nicer than enjoying the vacation. After all they worked hard to be able to take the family away.

You’ve gone through alot, i hope you’re not throwing this away to scroll for another few days.

There is absolutely no eureka moment, you are the only person who can provide that not us bloggers. You need to get on that train. Now. You know how. Why are you stalling, procrastinating, maybe it’s the fear of failing or the “if it’s so quick and easy i’ll just do it later” mentality, don’t let these things keep you here longer than you need to be here.

And a tip for the road: act like this is life or death, do or die, there is no “what if” or “i’ll try” it’s happening

YOU KNOW IT ALL, UTILISE THAT KNOWLEDGE

[awriterinthenight]

"And How Would You Like to Kiss a Smart Guy?"-Fred Weasley

requested: no

words: 1840

warnings: Molly complaining about the twins, reader is a Gryffindor and Sirius' daughter, also implied that reader is shorter to Fred

summary: When Molly complains about the twins, you defend then, especially Fred, leading to Sirius having old memories of Lily and James.

You could hear Molly Weasley yelling about something in the kitchen as you approached the door. Recently you, Harry, Hermione, and all the Weasley kids had been living in 12 Grimmauld Place, which is technically your family's house. Your dad had been hiding out there, and you had started living with him to make up for all the time lost while he was in Azkaban.

Grimmauld Place was starting to become your home and even feel like it. Ever since your Hogwarts letter came, the school has only ever felt like your real home. Many of your friendships were made there, your relationships all started there, and almost every happy memory was made at Hogwarts.

It was the place where you met Ron and Hermione on the train to Hogwarts. Then when you got sorted into Gryffindor you met Oliver Wood who was the Quidditch captain, and you became quick friends with him, due to you and Harry being on the team so young. It was also the place where you met the Weasley twins.

Ron had told you all about his oldest brother Bill, who now worked all the way in Egypt, and his other older brother Charlie who was a dragon tamer in Romania. Then he complained about how uptight Percy was. When he got to the twins it was a mix of funny stories and some humiliating ones for Ron.

"Oy, you're going to talk her ear off if you keep telling her about us," a voice yelled out. It was Fred Weasley. He was making his way over to where you and Ron were talking in the common room.

"Yeah, you're also not even telling her the truth," the other twin said, following behind Fred.

Fred came up behind you in the chair you were sitting in, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, bending down a bit so that he could whisper something to you, "We're a lot funnier than that, and way better at pranks than he's making it out to be."

"Uh huh," you said, acting skeptical, "If you say so."

Him and George looked hurt at your words.

"If you say so," George yelled loudly, clutching his chest, "Do you hear this blasphemy?" he said to Fred.

Fred removed his arm from around your shoulders, "Oh, I do, and believe me I cannot stand for this. We didn't get detention for a month to be insulted like this. Now did we?"

You rolled your eyes, as Ron looked bored from having seen this act before, "Don't you two have anything better to do than bother some first years?"

"Well when you insult a man's pranks, one feels rather hurt," Fred said, continuing his dramatic act.

You looked him up and down before you said, "What man? All I see are two cocky gits."

They looked even more insulted, but once again Fred spoke first, "And she's got a sharp tongue. It seems we have our work cut out for us."

"That we do, dear brother," George said to his twin.

"You know what I think we need to do?"

"Of course I do, now off we go," George said before walking away with his twin in tow. That moment was the reason for the twins' further actions towards you. Wherever you went the twins would always do some prank near you to make you laugh. Fred started to take pride in knowing one of his jokes made you laugh, even if it was barely a chuckle or a smile.

The boys did everything they could to get you to crack. Slowly it became their favorite past time, especially for one twin. During 4th year something started to shift in how Fred saw you. You were no longer just his little brother's friend, but you were his too. Except he started to wish you were more.

He watched you get prettier over the years, to the point he caught himself staring a couple of times. Fred loved the banter between the two of you, you always had some sort of retort to everything. You still called his pranks "silly" or sometimes "immature" but that was only when it went wrong. He still did his dramatic act everything you said that, but now it was because he just liked having your attention all on him.

Fred's crush on you wasn't entirely unrequited though. You started to fall for him too. You didn't know if it was because of his charm, or the banter that was the closest you would get to flirting, or even just the way he looked. He was always looking down at you, having to lean in a little closer to hear you since he was so tall.

Being at Grimmauld Place was no different to being at Hogwarts with the way the twins, especially Fred, acted. They still pulled pranks and Fred still had his banter with you. Which was exactly what Mrs. Weasley was yelling and complaining about.

You'd walk in to make tea and grab a biscuit when you heard, "And they're always up to something. I can't with those two, one of these days they are going to have to grow out of these pranks and jokes," Molly complained, while cleaning the table.

"Hey, me and James were the same way, and look how we turned out," Sirius said, but Molly just gave him a look, "Alright, maybe not the best example, but look at Remus. He was part of our pranks, and he ended up teaching at Hogwarts."

Remus had now butted into the conversation, "I did end up having to leave due to my furry little problem, though I did enjoy some of their mischief, Molly," he defended, taking a sip of his tea.

"They don't even study. How will they get anywhere if they don't focus on school. For once I wish they would focus on their classes instead of some dumb prank or useless product," Molly continued on.

You'd been at the counter, letting your tea bag sit in your tea, as you listened to Molly rant. At some point you let out an eye roll and huff that did not go unnoticed. Your dad and uncle seemed to pick up on your small gestures.

"You seem to have some thoughts on this matter, why don't you share them with us," Sirius teased, sitting at the dinner table, leaning back in his chair.

You shrugged, annoyed you were being put on the spot, "I have nothing to say really."

"Oh come on, you go to school with them, you must have something to say," Remus interjected, picking up on what Sirius was doing.

Before you could respond, Molly spoke up before you, "It's alright dear, I know everyone is probably annoyed by their childish pranks."

You rolled your eyes again, this time deciding to defend the twins, "They're actually not that childish. They're pretty impressive if anything."

"Oh really? And what makes you say that?" Remus questioned, leaning against the counter.

"They've pulled off really complicated charms before actually," you started, "And they're both really smart, especially Fred. I once watched him pull off a charm during my first year, that not even seventh years could pull off. Whenever they come up with some new product Fred always shows it to me and explains it, and its always bloody genius. I don't think I've seen him come up with an idea that hasn't worked. I think if he did try to study he could be top of his class, especially in charms. He could probably give Hermione a run for her money if he cared enough. I don't see why everyone demeans his pranks so often. He's a bit of a genius when it comes to them," you explained, not realizing when your defense for the twins turned into you rambling on about how smart Fred was.

You turned around to face the three adults who all had a smile on their face, yet also seemed a bit shocked. Sirius started to massage his temples, quietly repeating "not again, not again," which you didn't understand why. While Mrs. Weasley had a knowing smile as she continued cleaning, not saying a word. Finally you turned to Remus, who was shaking his head at Sirius.

"What?" you exclaimed, confused as to why they were acting like this, "What's wrong with him? Why does he keep repeating that?" you asked Remus.

Remus took in a long deep breath before saying, "Because, about 17, maybe 18 years ago, Lily Potter said the same words, unknowingly might I add, about Harry's father all those years ago," he explained.

It took you a moment to connect the dots, but once you did you were quick to react, "Shut it."

"She said the same thing too," Remus teased, as you walked out of the kitchen.

***

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Fred had heard everything you said. He thought they were talking about something for The Order, but he ended up catching your conversation. He was over the moon to find out you thought of him like that, and he knew the next time he talked to you he would tease you about it for forever.

***

The next time Fred saw you, you were walking back to your room upstairs when he stopped you.

"What do you want, Weasley?" you asked, knowing he probably had some prank to show you, or a new product.

"I think you mean genius actually," he teased.

It took you a moment to understand what he meant, but once you did you felt a bit embarrassed, "So you heard all of that?"

He nodded his head, "Oh, I heard all of it. How I'm a genius, and my "silly" pranks are actually really impressive, and how you think I'm super smart," he teased, while having the biggest smile on his face.

You shrugged, "And so what if I do?"

Your confidence threw him off a bit, but he went with it. He was silent for a moment before he spoke, "Well, do you like smart guys," he asked, trying to shoot his shot.

"Maybe," you replied, inching closer to him without realizing it.

"That's not an answer, love," he said, the name rolling off his tongue as if it was completely normal.

"Yes, I do," you admitted.

Fred's smile got even wider at your confession, "Good" he said, "And how would you like to kiss a smart guy?"

You shrugged, "I don't know, who is this supposed smart guy?"

"I heard he's quite the genius," Fred said, closer to you now than he was before.

You considered it for a moment, "Then yes, yes I do."

"Even better," Fred said, before connecting his lips with yours. Your hands went around his neck, one of them tangling in his hair. Fred's hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. You both had waited so long for this moment, that it was unbelievable that it finally happened. You didn't know what was next, but you enjoyed the moment between you.

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