#i want to toss him like a pizza

[ssahotchnerr]

fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe

it's a date

there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3

You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.

Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:

A low whistle exited Morgan.

"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.

Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.

"Hot date?"

"You could say that."

Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.

"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.

"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."

"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."

The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.

As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.

Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.

"That bad?"

You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."

There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.

"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."

That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"

"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."

"Which one?"

"Shrek."

Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.

"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.

"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."

Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.

"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.

"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.

The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.

"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.

"What about me?"

"Who's going to make it up to you?"

"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.

"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."

A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"

"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"

"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."

All yours. He could get used to that.

"It's a date."

[sturniqlo]

KINKTOBER WEEK 3 | SMASH OR PASS- M.S

summary: where playing smash or pass with fictional characters turns into something more with matt

cw: cursing, SMUT; slight dom!matt, making out, fingering, unprotected p in v, backshots, creampie, spanking, hair pulling, aftercare

an: happy smutday- i mean thursday!!

masterlist | kinktober | join my taglist

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

tonight, y/n and her best friend, matt, were having a sleepover. before the night even started, matt had picked her up from her place and drove the two of them to the store to buy snacks and drinks for the night ahead of them.

as they walked around the grocery store, she had realized just how full the cart has gotten. "fuck, we've gotta get rid of some stuff." she picked up a random bag of peanuts. "bro, i didn't even realize how full it got." he giggled, picking up a few snacks he actually wanted.

once they arrived back at her place, it was matt's turn to order dinner for the two of them. "how's pizza sound?" he asked, his phone open to the postmates. "so good, get a stuffed crust, please." she looked at him with pleading eyes. "i will, i will." she smiled, she then went back to look for a movie.

that was a few hours ago. they were now playing smash or pass. "okay, okay, uh- the guy from tangled." matt snaps his fingers trying to think of his name. "flynn rider?" he nods. "oh i'd smash him any day. he can break into my tower." she smirks, taking a sip from her soda can.

"you're insane." matt laughs. "okay, my turn. let's see... betty boop." she looks at him. "smash... that's a classic, too easy. give me another one." she smirks at the thought. "fine.." she thinks for a few seconds before speaking.

"me." she smirks, raising her eyebrows at him. "y- you?" he stutters. "me." she confirms. "i- i would." he gulps, feeling himself grow hard at the thought. there had been far too many thoughts of her in that situation. "you would what?" she scoots closer to him. "y/n.." matt whispers.

"you would what, matt?" she repeats, feeling herself getting wet at the way he said her name. "smash." he finally says. "yeah? you'd fuck me?" she grabs a hold of his chin, bringing their faces inches apart. "i've been thinking about it for so fucking long." he wastes no time, brings his hand to the back of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss.

"mmm." she hums in satisfaction, feeling his soft lips on hers. their kiss hard and messy. she pulls away for a second, pushing him back so that he rests against the back of the couch. climbing onto his lap, matt's hands come to rest on her hips. "are you okay with this?" she asks him. "more than okay." he smiles before closing the gap again.

their tongues fight for dominance, his winning so he now has control. her hips roll against his and she feels his hard bulge. "so hard already, matt." she mumbles against his lips. "all for you, babe." he grips her ass in his hands. she gasps at the sudden feeling.

as they keep making out on the couch, she pulls away and throws her hoodie off of her and tosses it somewhere in her living room, leaving her in her bra. "fuck." matt groans at the sight of her cleavage. "can i?" matt presses a kiss on her shoulder, his finger ghosting over her bra strap. "yes, take it off for me."

his hand comes behind her back, easily unclasping her bra. he lets it fall down her arms before grabbing it and tossing it with her sweater. "so beautiful, look at you." he mumbles, awing at the sight of her tits. her nipples hardening at the change in temperature. matt brings his hands up and squeezes one in his hand, running his thumb over her nipple. she gasps.

"you like that, yeah?" he smirks, rolling the bud between two fingers, hearing her whimper. she nods, rolling her hips against him some more. "stand up." he says lowly, patting her thigh. she does as he says and he stands behind her, moving her loose hair over her left shoulder. pressing wet kisses along the exposed skin of her neck. she sighs in pleasure, leaning her head against his shoulder.

matts hands come around her her waist, caressing the soft skin of her belly, slowing creeping down to the waistband of her short. "take these off for me, please." he says into her ear, fiddling with the button. she hums, replacing his hands with hers, unbuttoning her jean shorts and letting them pool around her feel. "good girl." his hand comes back down, slightly touching her covered cunt. she practically moans at the pet name.

"on the couch." he nips on her neck and pats the side of her thigh. she nods, getting on all fours on the couch. her forearms resting on the head of the couch, and her ass sticking out. matt discards of his shirt, coming up behind her and rubbing his hand over her ass cheek. "so pretty." he mumbles, kissing up her spine. his hands runs up her body.

he then pulls back, admiring her almost naked body. he looks at her thin grey thong that already had a wet patch. "look at you, already so wet for me." his fingertip tracing her covered slit. "matt." she whines, arching her back at the small, yet teasing touch. "what, baby?" he smirks knowing she's getting impatient, just wanting him to do something.

"please." she turns her head around to see him and wiggles her ass against him as he leans his front against her. he groans at the contact, his cock feeling suffocated under his underwear and jeans. "so needy, yeah?" matt spanks her. she jolts at the sudden impact, the sting hurting so good. "again." she leans her head against her arm. "you like that? such a dirty girl." he rubs his hand over the red skin before hitting that same spot again, making her whimper.

matt looks down and sees that the wet patch on her thong has grown. he curses under his breath knowing he caused that. he wastes no time in booking his finger on the sides of the material and slides them down to her thighs. she helps him out but lifting each one of her knees so he can slip them completely off. she spreads her legs a bit more, giving him a better view of her dripping pussy.

matt sees her glistening core and grows harder, unbuttoning his pants to give him a bit more freedom. "so wet." he whispers, dipping his fingers into her hole, collecting some of her wetness. "please, matt." she's had enough of his teasing. "okay, okay. i'll give you want you want." he leans and gives her shoulder a kiss.

finally, he slides his two fingers from her hole down to her clit. he circles the sensitive bud. "shit- just like that." she pushes her ass back, moaning. "you like that?" his fingers moving back up to her hole. pushing two of his fingers in slowly, letting her get used to the feeling. "f- fuck!" she gasps, feeling his long fingers massaging her walls.

"so good, matt." y/n says. matt pumps his fingers faster, seeing his fingers shining with her arousal when they slip out. "keep- keep going." she starts to feel the pressure build up in her lower belly. matt can feel her pussy clenching around his fingers and slips out before she can get closer to her climax. "matt." she whimpers at the loss of contact.

"sorry, baby. i want you to come on my cock." he licks his fingers clean. "taste so good." y/n turns on her back and sees matt with a flustered look on his face, shirtless and his unbuttoned pants. she brings her arms out and matt hovers over her his hands coming to rest besides her head. her arms go around his neck. thier lips colliding into a messy kiss. y/n can taste herself on his tongue.

"gonna fuck you now, back on your knees." he cups her cheek, pressing one last kiss on her lips. she smirks at his words and turns back around into her original position, arching her back a bit more. matt slips his pants off along with his boxers, letting his hard cock spring up. he rubs himself a couple of times before running his leaking tip along her folds.

"y'ready, baby?" he bites back a groan. "yes- fuck." she whimpers. matt, slowly pushes his cock in holding her hips to steady himself. "oh- you're so big." she cries, feeling his dick stretch her out. matt groans as soon as he bottoms out, looking down to where they're connected, seeing her hold stretch out to accommodate to his size.

"move- please move." she puts her hand over his that rests on her hip. matt nods even though she isn't facing him. he starts to thrust in and out of her. "oh fuck!" she throws her head to the side.

"feel so good wrapped around me, baby. shit!" he slaps her ass cheek. seeing the skin turn red. "matt!" he groans feeling her pussy clench around his dick. "squeezing me so hard." matt reaches up and wraps her long hair around her hand, slightly pulling on it. "yes- yes!" she moans at the stinging of her scalp. matt pulls on the makeshift ponytail until she's on her knees leaning flush against his chest.

matt continues thrusting into her from behind, kissing along her neck and moaning into her skin hearing her moan from him hitting deep spots inside of her. "fuck- i'm so- i'm so close." she brings a hand behind his head and turning her head so they can meet in a kiss. "mm." she hums into the kiss. matt pulls away from the kiss, holding her chin in his hand. "come for me, come all over my dick."

"yes- gonna come for you." she whines, her eyes fluttering in pleasure. with a couple more thrusts she's cums. "fuck! i'm cumming!" she turns limp against him. matt rides her through her high and he then cums inside of her. "so good." she mumbles. "you did so good for me, babe." he coos, moving bits a pieces of her hair from her face.

matt carries her from the couch to her room to clean her up. knowing her place like the back of his hand, he knows where to get a rag. he cleans himself off before going to back to her and wiping the cum that is seeping out of her. she slightly hissed. "m' sorry, almost done." he kisses her thigh. matt gets her to pee before changing her into a pair of sweatpants and hoodie.

"well, i'd say 'smash or pass' was a great game since it ended up with us fucking." matt says as he lays on her. "you're unbelievable, matt." she giggles. "answer this one f'me, smash or pass... jack skellington." he looks up at her.

"smash."

[rileyslibrary]

It’s lunchtime at the military base, and you can’t decide what to eat. Ghost is getting hangry.

———————————————————————

“It’s a simple question,” he says. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

“Are you hungry?” He asks and lifts his hands.

“Yes, sir.”

“What exactly are you hungry for?”

“I-I don’t know.”

He drops his arms to his sides and sits at the corner of his desk. He touches the back of his neck with one hand while supporting himself with the other.

“Every fucking day, you do this to me,” he murmurs. “If you don’t decide this time, I’ll go eat alone.”

“Oh! Is that so?” You squint and hunch forward at your desk.

“Yes!” He yells as he stands up and walks towards you. “Yes, I will. In fact, I would love to.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and your jaw drops. How dare he? You’d been teammates for years, sticking with him through thick and thin, never betraying him once. But now he...

“...Would love to?!”

“That’s right!” He snaps and slams his hands against your desk. “So, for the last time: What. Will. It. Be?”

You lean back in your chair and bite your pen while considering your options. Ghost’s gaze darts from you to the pen, then back. He groans and grabs the pen from your hand, tossing it to the side.

“Pens are off the menu today,” he declares, snapping his fingers, “I need an answer. Now.”

Dumfounded, you stare at the pen on the floor. If someone else had done this to you, you would have slapped them in the face. Worse, if he had watched anyone else treat you that way, he would have ripped their limbs off their body.

But he’s hangry. As insignificant as this conversation appears, he doesn’t handle his hunger with the same poise he handles other, more complex situations. Not only that, but your indecisiveness doesn’t help, either. You need to make a decision quickly, so you sit up straight and place your hands on the table.

“What are my options again?” you ask.

“Pizza or burger.” He replies sternly.

“I don’t want piz—”

“Burger it is, then,” he says with a nod. He knocks his knuckles twice on the desk and strides towards the office door.

“W-wait, Ghost, wait!”

He sighs and leans against the door, his hand on the handle.

“I don’t like the base’s burgers.” You mumble.

“Nobody likes the base’s burgers!” he yells. “But we still eat them!”

“I was wondering,” you say and lower your voice, “if there is another choice?”

He’s softly bashing his head against the door, and you try to persuade him that there should be a third option—a vegetarian meal, perhaps. In response, he begins making whimpering noises. He’s the one getting on your nerves now.

“You know what?” you snap, “I’ll go check by myself.”

He extends a hand in your direction and shows you his palm.

“No, no, no, no!” he cries. “You join the others in the queue, and the entire base will starve until you decide!”

You scoff at his sarcasm, and he opens the door.

“Listen,” he says, “I’ll go check and call you, okay?”

“LIEUTENANT!” you shout, but he slams the door behind him. You peek over at his desk. “You forgot your phone...” you murmur to yourself.

The lieutenant was a very cold man when you first met him. His responses were limited to yeses and nos with the occasional shrug, and he never joined you in everyday job activities, especially at lunchtime. You’d always eat alone in the mess hall, and if your breaks coincided with that of Gaz or Soap’s, you’d sit with them and eat lunch together. Ghost would normally sit in the office or hide in a corner around the base and eat since he didn’t want anyone to see him without his mask. But slowly, he came to trust you all with his face, and you’d eat together, locked in your office.

You look at the time. Given his hunger when he left, he should have returned five minutes ago. What if he gave up on you and is already eating with the rest? Sure, your indecisiveness annoys him, especially since he has to deal with it daily, but he’d never let you eat alone, right? On the other hand... he may be trying to teach you a lesson.

You take another glance at the time. This doesn’t feel right. You start cleaning up your desk to head for the kitchen, but someone knocks on the door.

“It’s open,” you announce, “come on in!”

“I’ve got my hands full.” You hear Ghost reply.

You walk up to the door and swing it open. Ghost stands there with a serving trolley full of dishes.

“Thanks,” he murmurs while he pushes the trolley inside the office.

“You forgot your phone!” you inform him.

“I didn’t forget it,” he says as he stops the trolley in front of your desk. “I’d rather put my bare hand in a fire and let it simmer than add a third option to your dilemma and let you decide while there’s a queue of starving soldiers behind me.”

He removes the plates from the trolley and arranges them on your desk. “Here’s the fucking pizza, the fucking shitburger, and the tofu version of the shitburger.”

He places another plate with five pizza slices on his desk. He removes his mask and immediately slaps a piece in his mouth.

“That’s a lot of food, Lt.,” you whisper, scanning the plates before you.

He turns his head towards you and keeps chewing. “Yeah,” he says, swallowing, “better have all the options in front of you than squeeze any reserve of patience I have left.”

You take a slice of pizza from your tray and bite into it.

He stares at you, raises his plate to the sky, and rambles about how “you didn’t want pizza before.” You clarify that, while you still don’t want pizza, it appears to be the best option among the three.

“However,” you continue, “I would murder for a good burger.”

He swallows and takes a second pizza slice from his plate.

“I know a place,” he explains. “We can go tonight.”

“Lieutenant, you smooth operator!” you tease, “like on a date?”

He nods and takes another mouthful. He doesn’t even bother looking at you. He’s too preoccupied with nourishing his massive body to worry about your mocking.

“What kind of a place is it?” You ask.

“It’s a shithole,” he says, “but it does the best burgers you’ve ever had.”

“So, what should I wear?”

He stops eating and aggressively shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. “I won’t get involved in your woes again—I’ll give you the address, and you’ll be there at 8 p.m.”

“Are you going to email me the menu so I can decide what to eat ahead of time?”

He swallows and looks at you. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says, taking another bite.

“Why?”

“Because there’s no menu at my place.”

———————————————————————

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Route To Sin - Eddie Munson

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: eddie decides to go on a roadtrip with you to visit your sister in vegas, when you stop at a themed motel on the way, things quickly take a filthy turn.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: my first eddie munson fic!! i’ve loved this man for two years, i just finally decided to put it on paper lol, please let me know what y’all think!!

TW: dom!eddie, slight brat tamer!eddie, reader has a sister, drug use (weed), food mention, marriage talk, dacryphilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, bathtub sex, oral fixation, unprotected sex (don’t do this), creampie, cowgirl, mirror sex, degradation (brat, whore), porn mention, spanking mention, pet names (doll, babydoll, sweet girl, sweetheart, angel), hair pulling, fem + afab reader, reader gets slightly insecure at the end

Rating: R, 18+

——

A waft of earthy smoke billowed from the open driver’s side window, the familiar smell pulling Eddie’s attention back to the van. You knelt on the bench seat, body stretched across the expanse of the front cab to rest your folded arms against the edge of the window frame, silently watching your boyfriend pump gas. The last of the joint you’d been passing back and forth dangled limply between your pointer and middle finger, careful to avoid dropping the simmering butt and accidentally lighting the whole place up.

“If you keep blowin’ that roach shit my way I’m gonna leave you here.” That signature sarcasm rang heavy in his tone, canines peeking out from under his top lip with the smile he flashed at you.

He shut the fuel door, grabbing the roach out of your hand before snubbing it out against the heel of his boot and tossing it into the ashtray on top of the nearest trash can.

“I gotta go in to pay, do you want anything?” He fumbled with his wallet, pulling the wad of crumpled bills out of the worn leather.

“Get me a slice?” You asked, tilting your head toward the neon in the window that read ‘Pizza: Hot To Go’ in blinking red letters. He nodded, hitting a light jog into the convenience store, wallet chain slapping against his thigh with every step.

When you suggested a roadtrip to visit your sister in Nevada, you hadn’t fully taken into account how long you’d need to be in the van. Hawkins to Vegas wasn’t exactly a short trip, two thousand miles to be exact, and as much as you loved spending time with Eddie, the old, worn out seat of his van was starting to make your tailbone ache. Being 16 hours into a 28 hour drive had you feeling more stressed out than usual, you definitely needed to sleep in a real bed tonight if you hoped to get any relief before your big weekend in Sin City.

Eddie came bounding across the cracked pavement, pizza box in hand and you perked up, his goofy smile illuminated by the final sliver of dusk and the dingy glow of the old gas station sign above.

“I got a whole pie, Rick wasn’t fuckin around when he said that new stuff would make you feel like you’re starving.” He yanked open the door, the metal creaking loudly on its rusty hinge. You took the box from him, setting it on the bench between you as he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, starting up the van to continue your journey.

“Eddie, can we stop at a motel tonight?” You asked, opening the box to lift a piece of pizza out, folding it down the center and bringing it to his face.

“M’not sure if there’s anything on the way, but we can stop if we see something, doll.” He turned his head, keeping his eyes on the road through his peripheral as he took a bite from the slice in your hand.

‘Welcome Home (Sanitarium)’ by Metallica blared through the speakers either side of the van’s tape deck, vibrations from the heavy bass flowing through the vehicle and melding with the warm haze your high pulled over your mind, your body relaxing into the stained upholstery of the seat. You kicked your bare legs up onto the dashboard, white lacquered toenails pulling Eddie’s eyes off the road briefly. His gaze shifted down to your ankle, then your calf, then landing on your plush thigh, your soft skin peeking out from under your short pajama shorts.

“Eddie, there!” You pointed toward the sign glowing overhead through the dirty windshield, reading ‘Heart’s Desire Motel’ in faded letters atop a large metal heart. His attention was quickly pulled away from your soft skin, pulling the van off the highway and into the small parking lot. The place was quaint, baby pink paint peeling from the siding, with an old ‘vacancy’ sign blinking in the window of the front office. You pulled your sandals on and jumped out of the van, slipping Eddie’s jacket over your shoulders to shield your bare arms from the chill in the night air. Eddie followed quickly behind, catching up to you with ease as you reached the front door.

A small bell rang when you pulled open the office door, the only source of light in the small room being a desk lamp situated behind the front counter. You waited for a moment, hearing a ‘be right with you!’ called from an adjoining space.

“How can I help ya darlin?” A sweet older woman emerged from a back storage space, setting some paperwork down and taking her place behind the counter.

“Can we get a room for the night?” You asked cheerily, excited to finally lay down on something that wasn’t a blanket in the back of Eddie’s van. She smiled and nodded, flipping through the room log book, and you took the opportunity to glance at your surroundings. The walls were the same light pink as the exterior, with heart and cupid motifs scattered across them to really hone in on the theming. The kitchy aesthetic was endearing, a reminder of the bygone honeymoon resorts of the 60’s.

“All our double twin rooms are booked for the night so we only have single queen rooms available, is that alright?” She looked between you and Eddie, knowing her question may as well have been rhetorical.

“That’s actually preferred, it’s our wedding night.” Eddie lied to the woman, a shiteating grin stretched across his face when you turned back to him and shoved his shoulder.

“Well in that case I’ll put you up in our honeymoon suite! It’s not much different from our standard rooms, but there’s a heart shaped tub for you two lovebirds to enjoy.” Her face lit up with the sweetest smile and your heart melted, guilt sitting low in your chest knowing it was a lie. You didn’t have the heart to tell her or question why she’d believed it given the way the two of you were dressed, but you shrugged it off, just happy to be able to finally relax.

You took the key from her as Eddie handed her the cash to pay for the room, twirling it between your fingers, a red keychain etched with the same logo as the overhead sign on one side and the room number above a small heart on the other. Eddie shoved his wallet back into his pocket, his arm wrapping around your waist to usher you out of the main office, calling out a ‘thank you’ as you left.

“What the fuck was that?” You grabbed your bag from the back of the van, shooting him a death glare only to be met with that ridiculous smirk he so loved to taunt you with.

“What, you don’t wanna be my bride?” He faux pouted, dark waves falling in his face as you reached for his bag. You over-exaggeratedly rolled your eyes, starting to walk toward the room.

“Guess it’s the atmosphere of this place getting to me, babydoll.” He slammed the door of the van, jogging to catch up with you as you started putting the key in the door lock. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment from how that little nickname made your heart want to burst out of your chest, Eddie always knew exactly how to push your buttons in the best way and this was no exception.

The sight that greeted you beyond the door was like something out of a 70’s porno, wood paneled walls framing crimson velour window trimmings, a matching velvet comforter sprawled across the queen bed. Two poorly painted angels sat perched atop the heart shaped headboard, like prying eyes seeing every depraved act carried out on the altar below. Sure enough, at the far end of the suite was a heart shaped jacuzzi tub, tiled steps leading up and mirrors lining the walls of the corner it was tucked into.

You dropped your bag on top of the mahogany dresser across from the bed, and as you turned on your heel to shut the door behind Eddie, you couldn’t help but burst into a small fit of laughter at the cross hanging above the door frame. The idea that anything happening in this sex den was god-honoring was definitely scoff-worthy.

“What d'ya say we put that thing to use? My back is killing me and I bet those jets would feel killer.” Eddie’s fingertips dug firm indents into the flesh of your hip, a not-so-subtle indication of what his intentions were for the night.

“Whatever you want, daddy.” You winked, taking a step forward until his large hand gripped your forearm.

“What did you just call me?” He questioned, brow quirked in curiosity.

“It’s our wedding night, remember? Don’t you wanna start a family?” Your tone was playful but truthfully something about this place was stirring a feeling so raw inside of you that you weren’t kidding in the slightest.

“If you keep that up you won’t be able to walk in the morning.” Eddie released his grip, slapping your ass as you walked away to turn on the faucet for the tub.

“Won’t need to anyway, I’ll be sitting in your shitty van for 12 more hours.” You knew exactly how to push his buttons, and insulting any of his women (his guitar, his van, and you) was the quickest way to do so.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.” He half-snapped at you, digging through his duffle bag in an ill-fated attempt to stop himself from watching the way you wiggled your ass while you bent over the side of the tub, watching the waterline rise.

“What are you gonna do, spank me?” You found yourself deliberately arching your back toward to accentuate the curve of your ass, hoping with every fiber of your being he’d stop what he was doing and manhandle you a little.

“Only if you don’t stop with the bratty attitude.” He glanced over at you and immediately dropped the shirt he was pretending to fold back into his bag, finally giving up on his resistance and approaching you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare thighs. His fingers slipped into the waistband of your pj shorts and underwear, roughly yanking them down to expose your ass.

“Gotta get you outta these if we’re gonna take that bath.” His tone had returned to that lighthearted sarcasm that you loved to hate, and you almost let yourself sink back against him. Instead, you stood upright again, taking the hem of his tattered Iron Maiden shirt in your grip and lifting it up his torso until he pulled it the rest of the way over his head.

Just as he reached to do the same to your tank top, you turned away and reached for the tap again, putting a stop to the stream of running water. He gripped your waist, pulling you back against him before pulling your tank over your head, leaving you fully naked.

“Get in.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine that had goosebumps rising over your skin. Maybe it was your residual high, or the lovesick atmosphere of your surroundings, but everything felt heightened, your skin more sensitive, his presence behind you more intimidating, his voice more intoxicating.

You ascended the short step and sunk into the bath, the water level rising to not quite cover your chest as you laid back into the left arch of the heart. Eddie watched your every move, eyes glued to your hips to drink in the way your form shifted with every step. He made quick work of removing his jeans, letting the stiff denim pool at his feet as he watched you settle in, your gaze drifting to the waistband of his plaid boxers. He pulled them down at an almost agonizing slow pace, exposing inch after inch of his semi-hard shaft to your waiting eyes until his cock sprung free, the sheer weight of him causing his length to slap against his upper thighs.

You absentmindedly pressed your thighs together, trying to dull the ache between them to no avail. You never truly got used to seeing him fully naked, blushing like a naive virgin every time you had the privilege of seeing him like this. The muscles of his thigh flexed as he took the step up to level with the lip of the tub, towering over you before sinking into the water beside you. He was an Adonis, all toned muscle under a tender layer of plush tissue that made for the perfect sleeping partner, strong and comforting all the same.

“Come here, doll.” He patted his thigh, the water swaying with the movement alongside the low hum of his voice. You rose to your knees, floating to the other side of the tub and straddling his lap, your core sitting dangerously close to his cock. His hands found your hips, calloused fingertips digging into your soft skin with a squeeze before gliding up your sides, his thumbs ghosting over the sides of your breasts almost teasingly while he admired the way water droplets dripped down over your nipples.

“Always so gorgeous.” He groaned, strong hands finally encompassing your breasts, kneading tender flesh as his rough palms gave your stiff peaks the friction they desperately craved.

His touch lit a fire within you, and as much as the way that he looked at you with such admiration made your heart melt, your need was becoming more and more unbearable by the second. You shifted forward, rubbing your folds over the length of his shaft with a hunger, desperate for stimulation.

Before you knew it he had dropped his grip from your chest, threading a hand into your hair to yank your head softly back, drawing a gasp from your throat.

“Did I tell you you could move?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrow. He couldn’t help his sarcastic nature, it just came so naturally to him, and knowing that he had such an immense effect on you gave him the ego boost of the century. You shook your head as much as you could given the grip he held on your tresses, and choked out a soft ‘no’ in response before clearing your throat.

“I-I think I deserve some relief after being in the van all day.” You tried to put up a fight, not quite done riling him up, but your tone was quickly losing all conviction and Eddie could see you slipping further into desperation.

“You don’t deserve anything, you’ve been a pampered little passenger princess for 16 hours while I’ve done all of the work to get us here.” He yanked your hair back even further, craning your neck to look up at the baby pink popcorn ceiling. The sting in your scalp brought tears to your eyes, the liquid breaching your waterline leaving dark mascara trails down your cheeks in its wake.

“You’re being awfully bratty, doll, where’d my sweet girl go?” He cooed, free hand cupping your cheek as he loosened his grip ever so slightly to allow you to look at him.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I’m just so sore.” You sniffled, tears still falling from the shame the disappointment in his tone made you feel.

“Don’t cry baby, just need you to listen, okay?” He dropped his grip on your hair, both hands cupping your face, looking lovingly into your glazed eyes. You could feel his cock growing beneath you, the sight of dark makeup running down your tear stained face serving as the perfect aphrodisiac. He adored seeing you all messy like this, his perfect angel looking like a filthy whore, only for his eyes to see.

“Think we can both get some relief tonight if you’re good, can you be good for me?” You frantically nodded your head. “Yes, I promise!” Your enthusiasm made him laugh low in the back of his throat, that goofy smile returning to his face.

“Need you to use your words and tell me what you want, can you do that?” His tone held sickly sweet condescension and you could feel yourself slipping into that mind numbing headspace, wishing he could just slip into your mind for a moment and see all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you.

“Need you inside, please.” Your words came out barely above a whisper and he knew he wouldn’t get too much more out of you before you devolved into a mewling mess, too lost in your own mind to articulate your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but play with you a little longer.

“Inside where, sweetheart? Here?” He mused, bringing his free hand to your mouth, pointer and middle fingers prodding at your parted lips. You quickly took them in, sucking softly on his digits as you shook your head no, oral fixation too strong to pass up the opportunity to have any part of him in your mouth.

“If that’s not what you want then you need to tell me, don’t be greedy.” He pulled his fingers from your lips with a pop, his tone falling an octave. Your eyes widened, nodding in acknowledgment, willing to do anything to please him at this point.

“I-I need you down here, please.” You took his wrist in your shaky hand, guiding him down to dip into the warm water, lifting your hips slightly so his hand could fit in the tight space between your bodies, pressing his fingertips to the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. You stopped, releasing his wrist, not wanting to break any unknown rule and let him take the reins from there. He brought the heel of his palm up to rut firmly against your clit, drawing quiet whimpers as you did your best to stay still.

“What do you want here, doll? My fingers, or something else?” He teased, dipping two of his fingers inside only up to the first knuckle, the slight stimulation almost torturous as he scissored his fingers inside, stretching open the first inch of your cunt.

“God, something else, please.” You sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What then?” He stopped his movements, withdrawing his hand and you groaned from the lack of friction.

“Your cock, Eddie, please just let me ride you.” You swore you were trying to be good, but you were starting to feel like you’d lose your mind if you didn’t get the stimulation you were in desperate need of and you didn’t care how impatient you sounded.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He laughed, his hands gripping your hips to guide you up just enough for his cock to stand upright in the water, the tip bumping against your weeping cunt. “Whenever you’re ready, babydoll. You want it so bad, you’re gonna do the work.”

You took his hint, bringing your hand beneath you to grip his member, finally sinking slowly down onto him until you could feel him in your stomach, the all too anticipated stretch making you cry out in relief after his teasing. He groaned, running a hand through his curls as he settled back against the edge of the tub, watching you start to slowly grind your hips, just feeling how full he made you feel.

After a few minutes you lifted your hips once more, starting a steady pace bouncing on his lap, the head of his cock rubbing against the tender patch of nerves deep inside your cunt, velvety walls engulfing him with every movement. The water surrounding you started to roll like waves, splashing against the sides of the tub, threatening to spill out onto the tile surrounding it. You took notice, slowly your movements to lessen the potential mess, and Eddie sighed.

“We’ll clean it up later baby, just let go.” He reassured you, secretly just as desperate as you were to get off. He didn’t care about a little clean up, let alone wiping some water off the floor.

You were hesitant but returned to your previous pace, angling your hips back to really allow his cock to hit the sensitive place inside you, euphoria slowly building in your core. Your gaze slowly shifted from his face and when you caught the sight of yourself in the mirrors surrounding the tub you gasped, the lewd image of your makeup stained face and your tits bouncing with every movement of your hips was something almost pornographic, really living up to the atmosphere of the room.

Eddie caught where your eyes had shifted to and groaned, throwing his head back to properly watch you get off to your own reflection.

“Look at yourself, bouncing on my cock like a desperate whore, making such a mess.” His hand came down to press against your lower stomach, his thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit until you were a moaning mess, your thighs burning with the almost brutal pace you were now maintaining.

“Want you to make me a daddy.” He moaned, his breaths becoming more labored. His statement broke you from your trance, your gaze falling back to his as you searched his eyes for any hint of sarcasm, but you found none, he wasn’t kidding.

“Can I knock you up, babydoll?” He reiterated the sentiment, increasing the pressure on your clit and feeling you pulse around him, your orgasm dangerously close.

“I need an answer before you or I can cum sweetheart.” He was panting, straining to prevent himself from finishing, and you did everything you could to pull yourself together enough to answer.

“Yes, Eddie, please!” You maimed, tears threatening your waterline from how close you were to the edge.

“Say it.” He groaned, locking eyes with you one last time.

“Please cum inside me daddy, please!” You cried out, tipping over the edge with one last slam of your hips, pleasure rolling over you in tandem with the waves of the water around you, your walls contracting over and over around him until his warmth spread throughout your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against you until the aftershocks stopped wracking your body, relaxing on his lap.

“You okay angel?” His voice was strained but sweet as ever, always concerned about your wellbeing above anything else.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, smiling silently against his neck.

Once you were fully recovered, you raised off of him, both of you wincing at the loss momentarily before sinking under the now lukewarm water for one final rinse. You began to step out, Eddie right behind you to grab your waist when your foot almost slipped out from under you because of the slick tile.

“Careful babydoll, don’t want you to slip.” He held you firm as you stepped down, making sure you were safe on the ground level before following you out, handing you one of the fresh towels from the pile next to the tub. He wiped up the excess water off the ground as you dried yourself off, and you didn’t know if it was the cold air or the rational part of your brain turning back on, but something started to eat at you as you watched your boyfriend dry himself off.

“Is it okay that I called you that?” The worry in your voice almost made Eddie’s heart break into a million pieces, and he quickly wrapped the towel around his hips before taking you into his arms.

“I loved it, babydoll, I promise I would tell you if I didn’t.” He smoothed your hair away from your face, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“How about we put on our pajamas and turn on a movie.” He smiled down at you, waiting for your approving nod before going to your bags on the dresser and pulling out your second pair of pj’s. He helped you into them before pulling on his own old band shirt and fresh boxers and crawling into the gaudy bed with you, cuddling up to watch whatever cheesy horror flick was airing on late night tv.

——

tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @your-nightmaredoll

also tagging: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @littlexdeaths @eddiesxangel @bimbotrashcan bc i thought you might be interested, please message me if you’d like me to remove you

please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future eddie fics!!

[zweigsangel]

it started with the faint buzz of your phone on the nightstand, vibrating so persistently it startled you out of half-sleep. you grabbed it, squinting at the screen to see chris's name flashing. it wasn’t unusual for him to call, but at nearly two in the morning? that wasn’t normal.

“what the hell do you want?” you answered, voice raspy from sleep. “yo,” he slurred, dragging the word out. his voice sounded distant, like it was fighting through static and something else.

you sat up, rubbing your face. “are you drunk?”

“nah,” he said, then paused. “well, kinda. not drunk. high. like, really fuckin’ high.” there was another pause. then he laughed softly. “sorry, is that rude? don’t know why i’m apologizin’. i just—fuck, nevermind.“

“what’s up? you woke me up, dumbass.” but your irritation was mostly for show, your tone softening.

chris and you had always been like this—banter that felt like a second language, jokes that only the two of you got. you’d been friends for years, meeting in high school when he’d transferred to your school halfway through junior year. he was scruffy, cocky, and way too confident for his own good. but beneath that? he was sweet in ways he didn’t let many people see.

you leaned back against the headboard, adjusting to the idea that you weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“just..missed your voice, i think.” he said it so simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

your stomach did that annoying little flip at his words, and you cursed it silently. there’d always been something unspoken between you two. maybe it was the way he sometimes looked at you like you were the only person in the room. or the way his hand would linger on your back when you hugged goodbye. but you’d both avoided it, burying it under layers of sarcasm and jokes.

“you’re so full of shit,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “nah, swear to god,” he said, voice still soft but with a hint of that teasing edge he always had. “can i-can i come over?”

“chris, it’s the middle of the night—”

“i know, i know. but i just... i really wanna see you. please.”

something in his voice made your chest ache a little. “fine. but if you wake my neighbors, i’m kicking your ass.”

“promise. be there in ten.”

ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at your door. you opened it to find him standing there, hoodie pulled over his head. his hair was a mess, and his eyes were glassy, but he grinned when he saw you.

“you look cute,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“shut up,” you said, shutting the door behind him. you were just in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, and you felt a little self-conscious under his gaze.

he flopped onto your couch, stretching out like he owned the place you grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and tossed it at him. “drink that. you look like shit,” you said, sitting down next to him. he smelled faintly like weed and the cheap cologne he always wore, and it made your chest ache a little in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“thanks, babe. love the support.” but he opened the bottle and took a long sip, sighing afterward.

“so, what’s this all about?” you asked, pulling your legs up beneath you.

he rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “dunno. just..couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

you laughed, trying to brush it off. “yeah, right. you’re high as shit. you probably couldn’t stop thinking about pizza, too.”

“nah, i’m serious.” his voice was quieter now, and when you looked at him, his eyes were on you, steady and unflinching. “i mean it. you’re all i’ve been thinkin’ about lately, and it’s been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane.”

your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break through your chest. “you’re just saying this because you’re high,” you said weakly, not meeting his eyes.

“bullshit,” he shot back, his voice sharper now. “this isn’t the weed talkin’, alright? this is me. i’ve been feelin’ this way for ages, but i didn’t wanna fuck shit up between us. but, god, it’s killin’ me,” he paused for a moment. “but tonight i was sittin’ at home, high as fuck, and i just couldn’t stop thinking about you. like, your stupid laugh, and the way you always steal my fries even when you say you’re not hungry, and how you—fuck, this is so embarrassing.”

you stared at him, your mouth slightly open but no words coming out.

he looked up at you, his eyes serious now. “i think i’m in love with you. no, fuck that, i know i’m in love with you. and i don’t know what to do about it, ‘cause i don’t wanna lose you, but i also can’t keep pretendin’ i don’t feel this way.”

you felt like the air had been knocked out of you. you sat there, stunned, your brain scrambling to process what he’d just said.

“say something,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

you swallowed hard, your mind spinning, and he laughed bitterly. “shit, i knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “forget i said anything, alright? just—fuck. i’m sorry.”

he started to get up, but you grabbed his wrist before you even realized what you were doing. “wait.”

he froze, looking down at you, and you swallowed hard. “you’re not..wrong,” you admitted quietly.

his eyebrows pulled together. “what do you mean?”

you hesitated, but only because you were scared. scared of what this could mean, of how things might change. but then you thought about all the little moments over the years—his hand brushing against yours, the way his smile could light up your worst days, the way he always knew exactly how to make you laugh.

“i mean—i think about you, too,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “but i didn’t wanna ruin anything, either.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. then, slowly, he sat back down. “yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes.

his eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

then he did move, leaning in just a little, his gaze flicking to your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and a little raspy. your breath caught, but you nodded. “yeah.”

and then his lips were on yours, soft and warm and a little hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to want this as much as he did. but when you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, he deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup your face like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

it wasn’t perfect—his nose bumped yours, and you could taste the faint tang of weed on his lips—but it didn’t matter. it was warm and messy and real, and it made your heart feel like it was about to burst.

when he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he was smiling—this soft, almost disbelieving smile that made your chest ache in the best way.

“fuck,” he whispered. “that was..better than i imagined.” you laughed softly, your cheeks burning. “you’ve imagined this?”

“yeah,” he admitted, his smile turning sheepish. “a lot, actually.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “you’re such an idiot.”

“your idiot,” he said, grinning.

you groaned, shoving him lightly, but he just laughed, pulling you into his arms. and for the first time, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

[moonstruckme]

Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍

Yes! Thank you for reading <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words

“Honey, I’m home!” 

A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—

“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 

You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 

He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 

“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 

James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 

“How would it be your fault?” 

“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 

You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 

“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 

“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 

“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 

You blink. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 

“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 

“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 

You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 

You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 

His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 

“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 

A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 

“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 

You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 

Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 

But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 

“I might,” you say. 

“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

↳ summary: the x-men can't seem to leave you alone, even if you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. as a last-ditch effort, they send logan, who's a little different than the rest

↳ notes: man writing this fucked me up. i kept editing it because i didn't like how it sounded, so some feedback would be much appreciated

↳ warnings: mentions of blowing things up in a past instance, but no one died. reader is a mutant and their powers are kept ambiguous, but it is implied they can somehow cause explosions

↳ song: promiscuous—nelly furtado

masterlist | commissions | carrd

The first time they sent someone, you had been excepting it

You weren't dumb. You knew the difference between an innocent bystander and a hired gun; or at least something along those lines. The way people walked talked and carried themselves was always a dead giveaway, and recently you had been surrounded by a few too many intense stares and stiff shoulders for your liking. A lot more than you were used to, in fact. Maybe that's what prompted you to start taking a new way home from work instead of the usual combination of cross walks and dirty bus seats.

The quick guy with silver hair was their first attempt at contact. You had found him waiting outside your apartment for you to get home all but a week after noticing the new attention on you, and you would have ignored him too if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting on the outside your balcony, kicking his feet merrily off the side about ten stories above the pavement below without a care in the world. And with what looked like a twinkie in his hand, too.

You'd closed the blinds without a second thought, tossing him a fake grin and a little wave when he eventually turned around as you slammed them shut. You were fairly certain he could have stopped you in no time flat, if the way you would watch him zip away in the blink of an eye later said anything, but you took a heat-of-the-moment gamble and were satisfied when all your efforts got was a whine from the other side of your window pane. His mouth was too full of pre-packaged pastry to say anything in the moment, you realized

"Not interested." You called over your back as you began to retreat into your kitchen without another moments notice.

"You haven't even heard what I want!" He said thickly, clearly trying to swallow as he spoke. You must have startled him a little then. Good.

"And I don't need to."

He left a few minutes later when his one sided conversationalist skills got him no where, and you responded by throwing a frozen pizza in the lower half of your oven.

You had been craving pepperoni all day anyway.

The second person try was a bit more aggressive.

They didn't have the decency to wait for you to come home this time. Instead, you found yourself looking up from your laptop as a chair was pulled out across from you at the quaint table you sat at. It made a scraping noise, and you tensed the muscles in your hands for a moment at the sound.

"Can I help you." Your eyebrow quirked up as you looked at the woman across from you. She had blonde hair, and what you thought were the brownest eyes you had even seen. You had trouble looking anywhere but into them for a second. When they hit the light, you swore they turned yellow just for a moment, and she looked about as annoyed as you were that she was sitting by you. You didn't have to wait long to find out why.

"We've been trying to reach you." The surrounding noise of the café hardly disturbed the hard tone in her voice. "You're avoiding us."

At least this time these people had the common sense to approach you in public. If you were any form of confrontational, which you very much weren't, you could have started a fight the last time. Who knows if you would have won against super speed and whatever else the first guy had— you weren't exactly sure about the extent of his powers, and at this point didn't care —but the point remains that some damage could have been done. Now, in the middle of a coffee shop on a busy afternoon, it would be a bit harder to start a fight. Not that you were seriously concidering it. If anything, you wanted to duck into a large crowd just to loose this new recruiter, or whatever they were called. You didn't exactly know if they had a name for this type of situation.

"I have no idea who you are." Your tone matched her own, dealing out the half lie nonchalantly. You weren't technically wrong, really. You didn't know her, nor did you know that other man that had shown up before. But you knew what they wanted, and you'd be damned if they didn't pin you down without a bit of a struggle.

Moving with a speed quick enough to get your message across, but not fast enough as to alert any of the surrounding coustomers that something was up, you closed your laptop, abandoned your now lukewarm drink, and started for the door. You only paused in your movements after a weight settled over the back of your shoulder, and you carefully turned your neck to look down at the hand resting firmly on you.

"I don't recommend doing that." You said with a bit of a warning tone in your voice, looking her right in the eyes as you did so. They had since shifted from dark brown to an almost hazel shade, and you filed that information away for later use.

Her grip remained where it was for a moment. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind, and she let go of her hold on your shirt; even if a bit reluctantly.

You didn't stick around to see if anything else would happen. You just made your way out of the shop and into the bustling street, not caring if she followed. They already knew where you lived anyway.

"Taxi!!"

The final person they sent for you, you hadn't seen coming.

Every other time— from the teleporting blue kid, to the woman with white hair and fair skin, and even the tall guy in glasses that had turned a little blue when you pushed your way past him —you had been able to prepare beforehand. At the very least you were able to lock your doors before going out and about your day. You knew that wouldn't stop them in the slightest, but it was a silent message to stay out of your business.

But this guy? This guy just didn't care at all.

"You know, you're really nailing this first impression thing."

A gruff voice sprang to life at the same moment that your hallway lights did, doing a fine job at catching you off guard. You managed to not jump, but with the way the intruders lips tilted up, you figured he knew he had surprised you.

"Oh, fuck my life."

You were really not feeling like another impromptu visit tonight. You had gotten home from a rough day of work a couple of hours ago, only to realize that you had finally blown through all your food, and was once more sent back out into the city to look for a grocery store. You had been looking forward to finally resting your feet, and maybe your eyes a few hours earlier than planned, and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to entertain this hulking figure of a man and the proposition that came with him.

You looked at him harshly. He had muscles for days, and a brown leather jacket to accentuate just how large he was. You knew for a fact that he was a few weight classes up from the last guy that had been sent to your house, and you wondered if this was their way of trying to intimidate you into forcefully accepting their offer.

Tiny scars dotted his face and the skin on his neck. You wondered why there were so few, considering that you already knew what he did for a living, but also knew better than to question someone like him. Especially since he was already standing in the doorway to your home, looking like he owned the place.

"Go away." You didn't grant him any sort of emotion in your voice as you walked in the direction of your fridge. The plastic bags full of your food for the week swung in your arms, and for a moment you thought this new guy was going to block your way into the rest of the house before he backed off with a roll of his shoulders.

You clocked his broad chest and bruised knuckles out of the corner of your eyes as you opened the ice box and slowly placed some frozen veggies in side by side. He had either gotten here straight from a fight, or was itching for one. You figured it was probably the former considering he hadn't jumped you the second you walked through the door. Or you know, maybe he just had fucked up hands. You could never tell with people at this point.

"You're pleasant." The mans wry smile was nothing but headache educing as you finished putting the cold groceries up. You snorted with hollow amusement.

"Try being stalked for a month and a half. It really makes you feel like being hospitable."

"Try being the guy that gets sent to get in contact with you. It ain't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Friday night either." He parroted back your words while running a hand down his face and across what you had since recognized as mutton chops in the process.

"When are you going to tell that professor of yours that I'm not interested in his little passion project." You think that might have been the first time you ever directly acknowledged what exactly was going on. Every other time you had just told the other person to get lost or slammed a door in their face to really get the point across, but the way this guy was looking at you gave you the feeling that he wouldn't be as easy to shoo away as the others, and you weren't really feeling up for a giant display of effort right about now.

"You could always tell him yourself, bub." His eyes followed your face as you crossed the room to stop in front of him, hand outstretched with something that ignited a small smirk on his face.

"Trying to bribe me?" He asked, going to take the fresh beer you offered him all the same. You shook your head.

"No. My master plan actually consists of getting you shit-faced drunk so you guys will finally leave me alone." You watched as his hand hesitated in mid-air slightly, and you misinterpreted his silent amusement at your jab for skepticism. "I've just got too much beer and a stranger in my apartment that's not going to leave me alone anytime soon, that’s all." You relented with a shrug.

"Fair enough." He took the brown bottle by the neck and popped open the top without so much as looking around for a bottle opener. When the cap went rushing to the floor less than a second later, you squinted.

"What are you then? Super strong? Or is your power alcoholism." That got a rough chuckle out of him. He swallowed about half of the bottle in one go before answering, and you sucked at your teeth as he did so.

"Something like that."

"Wow. Really feeling the comradery here." You didn't miss the way he deadpanned at that, and you figured he was thinking about all of the times you had kicked every other pursuer to the curb without even letting them get a word in edge wise. Still, you pushed on. "Remind me how its fair that you and your friends know all about me, but I have a new hero-of-the-week showing up on my doorstep every other day without so much as a clue as to what they could do to me?"

"About as fair as your little accident in Colorado." He responded without a seconds hesitation. You felt a little perspiration form on the back of your neck, and chalked it up to the lack of a.c in the room. Even if it was anything but.

"If you're here to try and convince me to join your little superhero team, I hate to tell you, but it isn't going to work. Just like it didn't work the past ten times." You ignored his last comment and made yourself comfortable on your living room couch. "Do you have a name? I've never really stuck around to talk to one of you this long before, and it's annoying to keep rendering to you as 'some guy' in my head."

He paused abruptly while drinking the beer, and you barely held back from rolling your eyes at his change in mood.

"It's Logan." He finally bit out reluctantly. You got the feeling that the only reason he told you was because he was here by request. If it has been any other circumstances, you had no doubts that he would have told you to fuck off. He gave off that energy.

"You already know mine, so I'm not gonna bother." You kicked your feet up and let your head hit the back of the couch with a sigh. "Just let me know when you finally get bored and head out. I want to make sure my landlord knows to blacklist you from the building after you're gone."

"Is this how you got everyone else to leave? By annoying them to death?" Logan sounded more entertained then you would have liked, and you blamed it on the beer.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"I've been sleeping at a school filled with screaming kids for the past few weeks. You're going to have to try harder than that to get me out of here." He took another swig.

"What will it take to get you to leave me alone. All of you." Your voice dipped out of it's usually casual tone for a more annoyed one. You were used to playing the long game when it came to getting people to leave you alone, but at this point it was getting ridiculous with the amount of people that they were throwing at you, and it was starting to wear you out. You weren't sure if Logan could tell your patience was being tested, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to.

Logan raised one eyebrow in your direction as an answer to your question, and you sighed.

"I'm not taking a stupid fucking spot on the X-Men if that's what you're implying. What do I have to do to convince you guys that I'm not up for it; blow up a building on accident or something?" The word 'again' went unsaid, but the implication was there.

You watched as Logan seemed to throw something around in his mind for a moment.

"Do you want to know why I joined the X-Men?" He eventually asked.

"Because you had nothing else to do with yourself other than styling your hair real stupid? Seriously what's with this horn thing you've got going in."

"I joined because they helped pull me off a dark path, kid." He barreled past your sarcasm, shutting you down quicker than you would like to admit. His tone was laced with something you recognized all as hatred, and you knew it wasn't directed at you, but rather himself. You knew the feeling all too well.

"I was running from something that I didn't even know I was trying to avoid." He continued. "And if it wasn't for the Professor and his 'stupid fucking team', I wouldn't have ever stopped."

For the first time in the past few minutes, you allowed one of your walls to come down as he spoke. You stared at him with a tired look lingering behind your gaze, choosing this time to listen rather than to ignore.

"I'm not running from anything." Even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. Logan didn't even have to look at you for you to sigh and lean forward again.

"I can see why the Professor wants you on the team." You felt the cushions on the opposite end of your couch dip slowly as he sat down. The now empty beer bottle was still in his hand, but as you looked over at Logan, you found his eyes filled to the brim with nothing but the honest truth.

It was a strange, tense moment. Both you and Logan could admit that. You were clearly filled with regret for your past actions, no matter how accidental they might have been, and conflicted with yourself because of it. Logan could do nothing more but watch as you battled with yourself over his words. His original plan had been to come here, show off a claw or two if needed, and bring you back to the school with a characteristic scowl on his face. But all that was thrown out the window when you offered him a beer, and when he was finally able to get a good look at you.

You looked exactly how he used to before one of his old cage matches. Detached and losing yourself. He could see it in your eyes.

The room delved into silence. You wrung your hands together and planted your feet. Logan watched as you seemed to have a silent conversation with yourself, and he began to regret not pacing himself with the beer. He wasn't anywhere near affected by the alcohol, that's to say. He just wished he had something to do other than sit in your home with squared shoulders and a furrowed brow.

"If I took one trip over to the place, would you guys let up on whatever this is?" You finally asked. Logan pushed down a faint smirk as you turned your neck to look at him.

"Sure."

You didn't say anything else, and you didn't have to. You got up without another word and grabbed a bag from a nearby closet. Logan found himself leaning on your doorframe as you stuffed a few essentials down into your travel bag in the room over, and he remained there until you finished.

"Still curious about my powers?" Logan decided to bait you just a little further as you shut the door to your apartment with a click of your keys, and he had trouble keeping a straight face when you looked back at him with curiosity dancing across your features.

Without saying anything, he held one of his hands up, and let you watch as his trademark claws popped up slowly. Like seasonal weeds in a garden full of flowers. The appendages let out a slight sliding noise as they did so, and you blinked once. Twice. Three times.

"And I thought my powers were bad." You finally said after a moment, and Logan scoffed at you.

"Kid, everyone thinks their powers are bad at first."

You seemed to take that as a challenge, and Logan watched as a bit of that fire that he'd heard about from Storm and the others flared up in you.

"Yeah? You ever accidently blow up a boiler room and take out half your high school's classes, big guy?" Your grin was all teeth as the two of you made your way down the complex hallway. Logan slowed his pace so you could keep up, and turned around so he could fully look at you as he walked backwards.

"Big guy?" He questioned you with a tilted of his head, looking about as unimpressed as he could.

"I mean yeah." You snickered. "Just look at your, well, everything." You took to gesturing at his entire being, something that got you a huff from the other man.

"Maybe you're just small." He shot back. You laughed and shook your head, looking down at yourself. Yeah right.

"And maybe I'm right, and you're just freakishly big."

Your banter continued all the way down to the elevator, where you had a hard time holding in your laughter as Logan accidentally almost stabbed the down button with his claws, apparently having forgotten that they were even out.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this; if everyone at the school was like this.

Maybe going for a visit wasn't as much as a bad idea as you'd thought.

[its-avalon-08]

chicken shop date (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - little angst, tears, comfort, jealousy

"Hey, babe," Lando called out as he walked into the living room, his voice casual, as if he was mentioning the weather. Y/N looked up from the book she was reading, her eyes narrowing a little, sensing something was coming. "I’ve got to head out for a bit later. Media duties. You know how it is."

"Yeah, where to?" Y/N asked, pretending she wasn’t bothered, even though her gut told her this wasn’t just any media duty.

Lando plopped down beside her on the couch, leaning back with his arm lazily draped over her shoulders. "Just some interview thing. The Chicken Shop Date."

Her heart sank a little. "The one with Amelia?"

Lando nodded, not catching the slight change in her tone. "Yeah, should be fun, right? It’s been all over social media. Apparently, people love that show."

Y/N forced a smile. "Yeah… fun."

He didn’t notice the hesitation, scrolling through his phone as if it was no big deal. "It’s just an interview, nothing serious. I’ll be back by dinner."

Y/N gave a tight nod. "Okay, sure. It’s fine."

But it wasn’t. It didn’t help that she knew how these things played out online. Fans loved to pair drivers up with anyone and everyone, and Amelia was already adored. Y/N tried not to think about it too much, but the insecurity crept in. The doubt, the comparison—it all bubbled beneath the surface.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lando sat across from Amelia, lights blaring overhead, the cameras rolling, and the familiar buzz of media duties surrounding him. He smiled and laughed at her jokes, played along with the teasing banter, but his mind wasn’t really in the conversation. It was on Y/N.

As Amelia quipped something about his love for chicken, Lando gave the expected laugh, but inside, all he could think about was how Y/N would have found that moment funny—actually funny, not forced for the sake of the cameras. She had this way of cracking up over the smallest things, making even the most mundane moments between them feel like they were in their own little world. He shifted in his seat, nodding as Amelia asked him another question, but it was Y/N’s voice he wanted to hear, not Amelia’s.

I should’ve texted her before this started, he thought. She hates these things. She probably thinks this is stupid.

His smile faltered for a split second before he masked it again with his easy-going charm. Lando’s mind wandered, picturing Y/N curled up on the couch, probably watching something on Netflix, or worse—doom-scrolling through social media where people would already be buzzing about him and Amelia. He knew how much she hated seeing those comments.

"Do you always pick chicken on a date?" Amelia asked, her voice pulling him back to the present.

He smirked automatically, playing along. "Depends on the girl, I guess."

But in his mind, there was only one girl. He could almost hear Y/N’s sarcastic response if she’d been there. Something like “Oh wow, such a Casanova.” He bit back a real grin, wishing he was with her instead, eating pizza on the floor like they always did when they had time to themselves.

As Amelia tossed another teasing question his way, Lando nodded again, but his thoughts drifted to Y/N’s smile. Her real smile, the one she only showed when she was truly happy—her eyes crinkling at the edges, dimples making their rare but precious appearance. God, I love that smile, he thought. How do I even survive without seeing it every day?

The interview continued, but Lando was only half there. His answers were automatic, the jokes came easy enough, but his heart was back home with Y/N. He could already imagine the comments that would flood in after this aired—the inevitable “couple goals” remarks about him and Amelia, the fans who shipped them just because they shared a few laughs on camera. He hated how much Y/N would probably see it all and doubt herself again.

She’s the one, he reminded himself, trying to focus as Amelia asked him about his worst date experience. But his mind flickered to the time he and Y/N had gotten completely soaked during an impromptu storm on what was supposed to be a romantic picnic. It had been a disaster, but also perfect, because it was with her.

The interview wrapped up eventually, and as he stood up to leave, Lando’s first instinct was to check his phone. A text from Y/N popped up.

How’s it going? Did you eat all the chicken yet?

He grinned down at the message, a wave of warmth washing over him. She’s probably teasing, but I know she’s anxious, he thought, his fingers quickly tapping out a response.

Miss you. Be home soon.

Amelia said something to him on the way out, but he barely registered it. His mind was already miles away, back where he belonged—next to Y/N.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Y/N sat on the couch, her phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, Instagram, and every other app she swore she’d avoid today. The comments were relentless, each one stabbing at the insecurities she’d been trying so hard to ignore.

Amelia and Lando are too cute together! Lando needs someone like Amelia, not Y/N. Amelia is just…better. They have way more chemistry than Lando and his actual girlfriend, LOL.

She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat as she let the phone fall onto her lap. The words kept spinning in her mind. They shouldn’t have bothered her this much, but they did. The laughter and teasing between Lando and Amelia from the video replayed in her mind, feeding her doubts.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed beside her, breaking her out of the spiral. She sighed, assuming it was more notifications from the post, but the name on the screen made her pause.

Carlitos.

She hesitated, not wanting to deal with anyone right now, but something told her to pick up. Carlos wouldn’t call without a reason.

“Hey, Carlitos,” she answered, trying her best to sound casual.

But Carlos knew her too well. "You’re doom-scrolling, aren’t you?"

Y/N’s heart sank at his words, her eyes darting to her phone again as if he could see everything she’d just read. "No… I mean, maybe a little. How do you know?"

Carlos chuckled softly on the other end. "I just do. I saw the interview, and I figured you’d be reading all that rubbish online. You know how people get with these things."

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. "It’s not just people. It’s like… I don’t know, Carlos. They’re saying Lando and Amelia have more chemistry than we do. And I… I can’t help but think, what if they’re right?"

There was a brief silence before Carlos spoke, his voice gentle but firm. "You’re kidding, right? Lando adores you. You should see the way he talks about you when you’re not around. You’ve got nothing to worry about."

Y/N’s chest tightened. "But did you see the video? They looked… I don’t know, comfortable. Like they fit."

Carlos let out a soft sigh. "Y/N, of course they looked comfortable. It’s an interview, they’re supposed to. And Amelia’s whole thing is to make it playful. But you and Lando—what you two have is real. Not some staged banter for the cameras."

She stayed silent, biting her lip, unsure if she could believe him.

"You’ve been with him through everything, Y/N," Carlos continued, his voice softer now. "The highs, the lows, the things the cameras never see. What you two have isn’t for the internet to decide. It’s for you and Lando, and no one else."

Y/N swallowed, her eyes stinging as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. "I just… I hate feeling like I’m not enough for him sometimes."

Carlos paused for a moment before speaking again, this time with more conviction. "Listen to me. You are more than enough. Lando knows it. I know it. And deep down, you know it too. The internet? They’ll always talk, but they don’t know the first thing about your relationship."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. "Yeah, I guess."

"No, not ‘I guess,’" Carlos insisted. "I’m telling you. Lando loves you. He doesn’t care about Amelia or anyone else. And if he saw you right now, he’d probably punch himself for letting you feel like this."

A soft laugh escaped Y/N, despite the tears that were now sliding down her cheeks. "You’re too good to me, Carlos."

"Someone’s got to keep an eye on you when Lando’s off doing these ridiculous interviews," he teased, his tone lighter now. "But seriously, promise me you’ll stop reading those comments. They don’t matter."

Y/N nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I’ll try. Thanks, Carlos. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, Y/N. And if you ever need a reminder, just call me, okay?"

"Okay," she said softly, feeling the weight on her chest slowly lift.

"And remember," Carlos added, his voice warm and reassuring, "you’re family. We’ve all got your back, no matter what. Especially me."

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart swelling at his words. "I know. Thank you, Carlos. Really."

"Now, go put your phone down and do something that makes you happy. Lando will be home soon, and he’s probably missing you already."

Y/N let out a soft chuckle. "You’re right. I’ll stop the doom-scrolling."

"Good," Carlos said, his smile evident through the phone. "Talk soon, Y/N."

"Bye, Carlos."

As the call ended, Y/N set her phone down, feeling a bit lighter. Carlos was right. Lando loved her, and she couldn’t let the opinions of people who didn’t even know them take that away. With a deep breath, she got up, deciding to make dinner and wait for Lando, her heart feeling a little more at peace.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lando was driving back home, the streets quiet, his mind wandering between the day’s events and how much he just wanted to be with Y/N. He could already imagine her waiting for him, maybe with some sarcastic comment about the interview, but her smile would say it all. That was his Y/N.

His phone rang, breaking him out of his thoughts. Seeing Carlos’ name flash on the screen, he raised an eyebrow, quickly connecting his Bluetooth before answering.

“Carlos, what’s up?” Lando asked casually, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Mate, we need to talk,” Carlos’ tone was serious, which immediately caught Lando’s attention. “It’s about Y/N.”

Lando’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean? Is she okay?”

“She’s been doom scrolling, Lando,” Carlos sighed. “All the comments about you and Amelia… they’re getting to her. Badly.”

Lando’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as his heart started to race. No, no, no… I should’ve checked on her more. I should’ve known this would happen.

“Shit,” Lando muttered under his breath, the image of Y/N’s hurt expression flashing in his mind. “How bad is it?”

“She’s really upset,” Carlos said softly. “I just talked to her. She’s trying to act like it’s fine, but you know Y/N. She’s hurt, man.”

Lando’s mind started spiraling. The interview with Amelia had been playful, nothing more. But of course, the internet had twisted it into something else. And he hadn’t even thought to reassure Y/N after it. How could I be so stupid? She’s always had a hard time with stuff like this.

He could already picture her sitting at home, scrolling through all those hateful comments, each one cutting deeper than the last. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. Guilt washed over him in waves, his mind running a mile a minute.

“You need to fix this, mate,” Carlos added. “She needs to hear it from you.”

“Yeah,” Lando nodded, though Carlos couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’ll fix it. Thanks, Carlos.”

“Don’t let her sit with it too long, alright? You know how she gets.”

Lando’s chest felt tight as he ended the call. His thoughts swirled, an overwhelming sense of panic bubbling inside him. She’s hurting because of me. I should’ve known. Why didn’t I check in with her sooner?

He couldn’t stop the spiral. His mind raced through every scenario—Y/N sitting there, thinking she wasn’t good enough, believing for even a second that anyone, let alone Amelia, could ever come close to what she meant to him. What if she starts pulling away? What if she starts believing those comments?

Lando could feel the pressure building in his chest, his heart pounding as he drove. He hated the thought of her doubting his feelings, doubting herself. She was the most important person in his life, the one he thought about constantly. How could she not know that?

I need to make it up to her. I need to show her how much I love her.

As he passed a convenience store, he swerved into the parking lot on impulse, throwing the car into park. He rushed inside, his eyes scanning the aisles in a frenzy. What would make her smile? What would remind her that she’s everything?

His heart still raced as he grabbed her favorite chocolate, the one she always ate when she was feeling down. Next, he spotted a small display of flowers—bright, colorful blooms that would make her laugh at how cheesy they were. He grabbed those too, along with a soft plush bear that looked far too childish but somehow felt perfect for this moment.

As he stood at the checkout, waiting for the clerk to ring everything up, his mind was still spinning. What if it’s not enough? What if she’s already convinced herself that she’s not good enough for me?

No, he told himself firmly. I’ll make her see. I’ll make her believe it.

He rushed back to the car, throwing the flowers and chocolates onto the passenger seat, already picturing her face when she saw them. She deserves the world, and I’ve been too caught up to remind her of that. I’m such an idiot.

The drive home felt longer than ever, his heart pounding in his chest as his thoughts swirled between guilt, panic, and determination. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He grabbed everything from the seat, taking a deep breath as he walked up to the door. I need to fix this.

Lando fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking slightly as he unlocked the door. He stepped inside quietly, his eyes immediately searching for her. The house was quiet, but he knew she was there. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging between them.

“Y/N?” he called softly, stepping further into the house, the flowers and chocolates held awkwardly in his hands.

She appeared from the living room, her eyes red-rimmed, a telltale sign that she’d been crying. Seeing her like that nearly broke him.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando swallowed hard, his heart aching at the sight of her. “I, uh, got you something,” he said, holding up the flowers and chocolates, his voice shaky with nerves.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to the items in his hands, a soft, surprised smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite her sadness.

“Why?” she asked, though her voice wasn’t accusatory—it was more like she didn’t understand why he would do something so sweet when she felt so far from deserving it.

“Because…” Lando stepped closer, his chest tightening again as he searched for the right words. “Because I love you, and I’ve been an idiot. I should’ve known how all of this would make you feel, and I didn’t—” He took a deep breath, his voice catching slightly. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I don’t care what anyone says. I only care about you.”

She looked at him, her eyes softening, but the hurt was still there. “Lando, I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough for you. And with everything people are saying—”

“Stop,” Lando interrupted, stepping closer and setting the flowers and chocolates down so he could take her hands in his. “You are more than enough. You’re everything. I hate that you ever doubted that, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to stop it before it got this far.”

His voice cracked, the weight of his guilt pouring out. “I should’ve texted you, called you, anything. I hate that you had to sit there and read all those stupid comments. I love you, Y/N. No one else, not Amelia, not anyone. Just you.”

Y/N’s lip trembled, her walls breaking down as she looked into his eyes. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Lando promised, his voice firm as he pulled her into a tight hug. “You won’t lose me. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt, but Lando didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was in his arms, and he was never letting go.

“I love you,” she whispered against his chest, her voice muffled but full of emotion.

“I love you more,” Lando murmured, kissing the top of her head softly. "Always."

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

The race weekend buzz filled the paddock, mechanics and engineers bustling around in preparation for the big day. Lando stood near his McLaren, helmet in hand, but his eyes were focused on Y/N, standing just a few feet away. She was watching him, that small, soft smile on her lips that always made his heart race more than any lap could.

They hadn’t spoken much since arriving at the track, but everything between them felt different now—closer, stronger. And as Lando walked toward her, the noise of the paddock seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. “Ready to win today?” she asked, her voice teasing but full of warmth.

Lando grinned, but something stirred in him as he stood there, watching her. He couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he needed to do more—show her, not just tell her, how much she meant to him. Not later, not when the race was over, but now. Right now.

Without thinking twice, he closed the gap between them in two quick strides. His helmet dropped from his hand, clattering to the ground, but he didn’t care.

“Lando?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening in surprise as he reached for her.

Before she could say anything more, Lando cupped her face in his hands, pulling her in for a kiss—a deep, passionate kiss that made the world around them disappear. His lips moved against hers with an intensity that spoke louder than words ever could, his hands trembling slightly as he held her close.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively gripping the front of his race suit as she melted into him, caught completely off guard by the suddenness of it. But the way he kissed her—the urgency, the need—told her everything she needed to know.

When he finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together. The paddock around them had come to a standstill, everyone frozen in place, eyes wide as they witnessed the moment.

Lando smiled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he whispered, “I love you so much, Y/N. And I don’t care who knows it.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of shock and happiness, her cheeks flushed. “Lando… I—”

But before she could finish, he kissed her again—this time softer, more tender, but still just as full of meaning.

When he pulled back, Y/N let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “You do realize you just kissed me in front of half the grid, right?”

Lando grinned, glancing around for the first time to see the eyes of drivers, team members, and media locked on them. Phones were out, no doubt capturing the moment that was already spreading across the internet like wildfire.

“Good,” he said with a mischievous smirk. “Now the whole world knows who I love.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she playfully hit his chest. “You’re such a show-off.”

“Only for you,” Lando teased, pulling her in for one last quick kiss. “Gotta give them something to talk about, right?”

As he bent down to grab his helmet, his eyes stayed locked on hers, the playful grin never leaving his face. He knew what he’d just done—how this moment was going to blow up online, how everyone was going to be talking about the “kiss heard ‘round the paddock.”

And honestly, he didn’t care. Let them talk. Let them post. Let the internet go wild.

He winked at her as he started to back toward the car. “Wish me luck?”

Y/N smiled brightly, her heart racing from the kiss and the moment that felt so surreal. “You don’t need luck,” she called after him. “You’ve got me.”

Lando laughed, a lightness in his chest as he put on his helmet, ready for the race. But before he climbed into the car, he stole one last glance at her.

And when he saw her standing there, beaming at him, he knew—he’d already won.

By the time Lando was strapped in and the race was about to begin, the internet had already exploded.

“Lando Norris pulls Y/N into a kiss before the race—power move!” “Is this the most romantic moment in F1 history?” “#LandosLove trending as fans lose their minds over that kiss.”

But all that mattered to Lando, sitting in his McLaren, was the fact that Y/N was there, watching him, and she knew—without a doubt—that she was the only one he cared about.

And today, he was going to win. For her.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

As soon as the kiss went viral, Instagram was flooded with posts, stories, and comments, with fans going absolutely wild over the moment.

@f1updates 📸 | Lando Norris pulls Y/N into a passionate kiss before hopping into his McLaren! 💥🔥 #LandoNorris #F1Romance #PaddockGoals

Comments:

@racingqueen_: SOMEONE GET ME AN OXYGEN TANK. I CAN’T BREATHE. 😍🔥

@fastandflirty: The way he just grabbed her and kissed her like he didn’t care who was watching?! Lando, sir, that’s illegal. 😳😭

@fanofchampions: This is the most romantic thing to ever happen in F1, I swear.

@speedqueen_: “I love you and I don’t care who knows it.” PLEASE HE DID THAT ON PURPOSE, I’M SOBBING. 😭

@racingislife: The internet isn’t ready for the #LandosLove era. 🥺❤️

@lan_y/nforever: This is NOT a drill. My heart cannot handle this.

@mclarensoulmate: F1 who? I’m now a fan of Lando’s romance arc. 🥹🌹

@formula1love 📷 Lando Norris and Y/N — the ultimate paddock couple. The kiss that broke the internet! 💏🔥 #CoupleGoals #LandosLove #F1

Comments:

@gridgirl_gossip: THAT KISS WAS STRAIGHT OUT OF A MOVIE, I’M NOT OKAY. 🥵💥

@checkeredlovestory: And Lando said, “Let me set the internet on fire real quick.” 😂🔥

@speeddiva: Can we talk about how they didn’t care about ANYONE around them? Like, iconic behavior.

@mclarensnumberone: They’re the new Brangelina of F1. No one can tell me otherwise. 😭

@thisgridisburning: This is better than any podium celebration I’ve ever seen in F1! 🏆💖

@formulaonedaydream: I want what they have. NO ONE TALK TO ME.

@mclarenofficial We knew Lando was fast on track, but that kiss was next level. 😉💨 #LandoNorris #PaddockLove

Comments:

@y/nation: WE ARE SCREAMING! THAT WAS THE KISS OF THE CENTURY. 👏🏽🔥

@lanfanofficial: Can Lando stop being perfect for like, five minutes? 🥲

@gridromantic: Not Lando turning the paddock into his own personal rom-com! I’m WEAK.

@mclarensbabes: Lando just raised the bar for every F1 driver’s girlfriend/boyfriend! Good luck topping that, lads. 😂💖

@inlove_with_speed: I’m crying, I’m laughing, I’m DYING. No one can compete with them. 💀

@landonorrisfanclub Lando's not just winning races—he’s winning at love too. 🥺💙 That kiss?! We’re still recovering. #LandoAndY/N #F1CoupleGoals

Comments:

@allthegridfeels: If this isn’t the definition of relationship goals, I don’t know what is.

@lapsofemotion: The way he didn’t care who saw it… I'm screaming.

@teambae: The power they hold over us all is unreal. 💥💖

@racedaydreamer: They really gave us a full-blown rom-com in the middle of the paddock, and I’M HERE FOR IT.

@getinthegrid: Someone write a fanfic about this moment RIGHT NOW.

@gridsweethearts Did Lando just set the bar for every F1 driver’s love life? Yes. Yes, he did. 💥😳 #LandoNorris #Y/N #LoveInThePaddock

Comments:

@racingheartbeats: I’m sobbing, they’re so beautiful together. I can’t even. 🥲

@formula1dreamer: Lando, what did you put in that kiss?! I FELT THAT IN MY SOUL. 😭

@mclovingspeed: That was the most iconic thing ever. No one’s gonna top that.

@lan_y/nfanforever: Lando just casually redefined love in F1. The paddock belongs to them now.

The hashtag #LandosLove began trending worldwide within minutes, fans sharing clips, edits, and reactions to the unexpected yet intensely romantic moment. It wasn't just a race weekend anymore—it was the weekend Lando and Y/N stole the show.

[thefreakandthehair]

ornament.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: ornament | wc: 999 | rating: teen & up | tags: eddie pov, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, the party, steve's nuggets (+ friends) love him so much, fluff, tree decorating, getting together

Eddie’s sitting on the couch with sweaty palms between Nancy and Steve with Robin to Steve’s right while the kids, including Will and El who’ve moved back to Indiana permanently, sit in a poorly constructed circle near the Christmas tree. 

The tree Steve hates. 

The reason Eddie’s palms are sweating. 

“I just hate this thing,” Steve had sighed as he flicked on the pre-lit white lights. “When I was a kid, I’d beg for the colored lights and when I’d make ornaments in school, mom would give me this polite smile and then I’d never see them on the tree anywhere. It’s always these stupid red and silver bulbs.”

It hadn’t taken much for Eddie to rally their friends and host an ornament painting party, everyone crammed into his trailer under threat of death if they blew the surprise, but now that’s it’s here, Eddie kind of wants to run and hide. 

What if he hates it? What if he thinks it’s stupid? 

Nancy knocks a knee against his and raises her eyebrows with a quiet smirk. Eddie nods, just one quick jerk of his chin, as his heart clatters in his chest and Nancy excuses herself. It’s telling, probably, that Eddie couldn’t keep the box of ornaments at his trailer because Steve spends too much there with him but Eddie’s too busy wiping his palms on the rough denim of his jeans to unpack that at the moment. 

“Where’s she going?” Steve asks. 

“We don’t need permission to go to the bathroom, do we?” Robin teases, uncharacteristically smooth in her distraction. 

Steve’s too busy needling her back to realize the front door opens and shuts, at least until Nancy comes back in with the shoebox she’d helped Eddie wrap.

“Oh my God, yes!” Dustin pipes up, spotting Nancy and whacking Lucas on the back. “Look!” 

“What—” Steve looks around in confusion, mainly down at the box that’s plopped in his lap. “What’s happening?” 

“Tell him, Eddie!” Max grins at Eddie, always a little too smart and observant for her own good. Or Eddie’s, for that matter. 

“Uh,” he stutters. “Well, we wanted to do something I guess, special? For you? It’s really nothing big but—”

“Will you stop underselling it?” Robin laughs. “It took me days to get that paint off my fingers. It was a big thing!” 

“Paint? What are you talking about?” Steve asks again, huffing. “None of your presents are ready yet, so we can put this under the tree or something and then—”

“Nope, you need this before Christmas. That’s the whole point,” Nancy chides, sitting back down next to Eddie. “Right, Eddie?”

“Yeah,” he nods, meeting Steve’s eyes with a blistering vulnerability he’s sure Steve can see, can maybe even feel with his thigh pressed against Eddie’s. “You should open it.” 

“Alright, alright,” Steve agrees, sliding a finger beneath the neatly folded paper, peeling back the tape and tossing the wrapping paper to the ground. “Did you guys get me new shoes?” 

“Just open it!” Robin snorts beside him and elbows him gently in the stomach. 

Eddie holds his breath and hopes he doesn’t pass out as Steve lifts the lid and finds the handmade ornaments carefully placed in the box. 

On top of strands of multi-colored lights sit a dozen ornaments with tiny hooks ready to be hung on branches. Lucas’ sits on top, painted to look like a basketball. Max’s is made to look like the nail bat he’d once used to save her life. Robin’s is an ice cream scoop with an anchor painted dead center. Dustin’s looks like a can of hairspray which Eddie still doesn’t completely understand but Dustin assured him that Steve would get it. Jonathan and Argyle’s pizza ornament, mailed from California. One after another, Steve pulls out ornament after ornament with splotchy paint by the people who love Steve more than they’ll ever begin to express. 

It’s silent and loud all at once as Eddie watches Steve pick each one up and run his fingers along the imperfections, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose before he speaks. 

“You… you guys make these?” Steve finally asks; soft, hushed. 

“We did!” El offers with a cheery smile. “It was Eddie’s idea.” 

“Holy shit, this is…” Steve whips over to Eddie, and any nerves he has disappear. He can’t possibly hate it, can’t possibly think it’s stupid when he’s smiling ear to ear, his nose wrinkling from the force of it before he chokes out a laugh that sounds almost like a sob. “Thank you.”

Eddie swallows and feels the heat creeping from beneath his jacket collar. He shrugs and bumps their shoulders together, nods at the kids across the room. “They’re all such great little artists, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t speak for long seconds, staring directly at Eddie until Max, menace that she is, speaks up. 

“You guys can kiss after, okay? Can we decorate the tree now?” 

Oh, she’s never getting a ride to school from him again. 

“Okay, everyone come grab an ornament!” Robin claps her hands together and pats Steve on the back, winking at Eddie as she stands up. 

Neither Eddie nor Steve move.

At least, not until the kids have their backs turned with Robin and Nancy trying their hardest to wrangle the kids into wrapping the lights around the tree. Steve leans over, Eddie’s impression of the vest he’d once thrown at Steve— the same vest that tethered Eddie to life as he’d gripped it with bloody fingers while Steve carried him out of the Upside Down— resting in his palm. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Steve whispers, the back of his hand landing on Eddie’s thigh. “Seriously. I can’t tell you… this means a lot, man.” 

“They love you, Harrington,” Eddie tries for subtlety but that’s never been his strong suit. “We all do.”

“C’mon,” Steve nods at the tree, his smile reaching his eyes. “The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can prove Max right.” 

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 10 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You left behind too many reminders of the weekend you spent with Jake, and even though he wants to, he just can't seem to get rid of them. You're free to test your theories, but you should have known you wouldn't like the results.

Warnings: angst, sex, oral sex, adult language, 18+

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

You stood in your building on campus and looked around like it was completely foreign to you. The few days you'd spent at Jake's place made this seem like a distant memory, and you felt like a completely different person now as you wiped at your tears. When you stood inside the lobby and watched him slowly pull away in his pickup truck, your heart begged you to run back out to him. But it was over. He gave you what you asked him to, and it was done.

Someone who lived on your hallway waved to you, but you barely acknowledged her. You were too tired to even stop at your mailbox to see if there was anything inside, so you headed for your door. With your fingers crossed, you slid your key into the lock, hoping like hell that Kylie was out for the night. But it was Sunday, and you found her sitting on the couch with a smirk as soon as she saw you.

"Where have you been?" she asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder and pausing her show. The common area was small, but you'd have to walk right past her to get to your personal bedroom, and you thought better of trying to blow her off.

"Out," you replied carefully, unsure how much you wanted her to know.

"With Cooper?" Her eyes flashed with excitement. "You've been gone all weekend!"

You shook your head and held your purse against your chest. She'd get it out of you eventually if she tried hard enough, so you said, "I went to that Navy bar you liked so much."

"The Hard Deck?" She was on her feet now, surprise written all over her face. You were sure she was having a hard time picturing you there; you had in fact stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Yes."

She screeched. "You slept with one of those hot aviators, didn't you?" she asked, tone somewhere between accusatory and delighted. But even though she didn't know what type of quest you had been on, she was definitely able to tell you'd had your world rocked. "Which one? What was his call sign? I just love their call signs."

You stared at her, suddenly surprised you'd ever considered sleeping with Rooster in the first place. You were a completely different person now because of the past forty-eight hours, and you were also embarrassed by what you said to the man who had treated you with respect the entire time.

"His name was Jake," you whispered as tears threatened your eyes again. "I need to finish something for my first class tomorrow, so I'm going to do that now."

You walked past her while she nodded in approval, like she was proud of you now, and you closed yourself in your room as a sob escaped your lips. Your bag fell to the floor as you tried to kick your sneakers off, but you gave up and just collapsed onto your bed. As you cried into your pillow, you realized your lace thong was still somewhere at Jake's place. It would probably end up in the trash along with everything else that the women he fucked accidentally left behind. 

How could you have been so stupid? Falling for a man like Jake? A thirty year old man who simply agreed to fuck your virginity away so you could get on with your college life. A man who was the equivalent of a major league ballplayer while you were barely a little league benchwarmer.

"You insulted him," you whispered as you rolled onto your side, and the tears kept coming. He said you made him feel cheap, which he had never once done to you. He made you breakfast and took you on a pizza date in his dining room and snuggled you in his bathtub, and you acted like he was undesirable. 

He called you naive, and perhaps he wasn't wrong. You had no idea what you were doing there. The weekend was supposed to be simple: lose your virginity so you could go out with Cooper. But you couldn't even manage to do that much correctly. Jake was a million times better than anyone you'd ever met on campus, and that was the kind of thing he deserved to hear you say. He deserved so much more, and he'd probably find it in someone older and more put together than you.

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

Jake fell asleep with his bedroom window open, but the sound of the ocean was less peaceful and more turbulent when he was alone. His kitchen was a mess from the meals he'd shared with you, and the pizza box was still on his dining room table. But he couldn't bring himself to clean any of it up just yet.

He still felt like shit on Monday morning. In your mind, he was exactly the same as Rooster or any of the other guys would have been, but you were so much more to him. He felt good when he was around you. Or at least he had before you abruptly ended the weekend by telling him he was only made for one thing.

When he walked into his bathroom, he was greeted by an empty bottle of Sam Adams and a wine glass on the edge of his bathtub. "Fuck," he gasped, turning away from them to brush his teeth. The green toothbrush he gave you to use the first night you slept over was right there next to his, and he couldn't keep his fingers from touching it like he half expected it to be a figment of his imagination. 

But no, all of these items were strewn about just to make coming to terms with things harder. It should have been laughable, getting rejected by a twenty year old, but the weekend he spent with you was the closest thing he'd felt to a relationship in years. You fed him that disgusting pizza. He held you while you napped. You actually listened to him when he talked. He couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. Even the clothes in his drawers made him think of the way you dug around in there like you owned the place.

"God damn it," he groaned when he realized your lace thong somehow ended up on his dresser. It was too easy to picture you on Friday night, wearing it in his kitchen with your skirt on the floor at your feet, trust in your gaze even though you didn't really know him yet. You looked sinful that night with a sharp retort on your lips when he thought he was the one in charge. You weren't just some dumb college kid; you were a funny and resourceful and sexy woman. He ran his thumb along the lace before pushing it to the side to finish getting ready for work.

He flew worse than he could ever remember, so maybe it was a good thing you rejected him after the weekend was over. He couldn't focus, but it would have just been worse the longer he was hung up on you. He was surly and short with everyone he encountered, and by the middle of the week, they just left him alone.

But it was still so bad by Friday, and it wasn't helping that he hadn't yet cleaned up the wine glasses or the pizza box or thrown out the green toothbrush. He skipped dinner and took the time to hand wash each glass he'd filled with ice water for you. Then he walked the pizza box directly to the dumpster. But your underwear and that fucking toothbrush remained in their spots, and he decided he would save them for another day.

Alone and sprawled out on the couch, he couldn't help but wonder what you were doing right now. Last Friday around this time, you were at the Hard Deck with your fake ID, and he sat up abruptly when he considered that there was a chance you might be there again tonight. That you might be looking for him.

Like an idiot, he grabbed the keys to his truck and headed there to find out for sure. Maybe you wouldn't agree with him, but he still felt like he'd been better to you than any of the others would have been. God, all he wanted was to know that you learned something useful from him, not just that he had casual sex with tag chasers. 

But when he got to the bar and looked around, he knew right away you weren't there. No leather mini skirts, and no Converse sneakers. Just aviators getting loaded while playing pool, and an assortment of every kind of woman anyone other than Jake could possibly want.

He was nothing other than a self-fulfilling prophecy, the way he was almost immediately approached by a woman he took home weeks ago. Your words echoed in his mind. 

"You're so good at fucking, no wonder all the tag chasers want you. I'm sure they all missed you this weekend."

"Not tonight," he told the woman who pouted at him. She gave him no witty retort before she walked away, but it didn't matter. Jake was already thinking about how he should have held onto your fake ID so you couldn't get into any real trouble with the fucking thing. But you weren't his to worry about or protect, and perhaps that was what bothered him more than anything else. If you were, he'd have you wrapped up in the fleece blanket that he kept on the back of his couch while the two of you ignored a movie in favor of making out. If you were, he'd have a reason to keep the toothbrush.

He just fucking knew you were with that dipshit Cooper who was the reason you came to the Hard Deck in the first place. There was nothing wrong with you when you met Jake, but Cooper was the reason you thought there was. "Fuck," he groaned running his hands over his face as he took himself back out to the parking lot and and drove home again. 

You hadn't reached out to him once. He wasn't sure if his number had successfully saved in your phone, but it didn't much matter. You knew where to find him, and you hadn't tried to.

While he drove, he let himself get lost in the memory of how fucking good he felt last weekend. He didn't want to forget that feeling. He wouldn't be able to anyway. He just wished he couldn't still hear the way it sounded when you apologized and told him he had been perfect.

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

"Stop," you said with a forced laugh. 

Cooper was drunk, and his hand was on your bare thigh again as you hung out at his place with some of your mutual friends. What a departure this was from last Friday night when you had to beg Jake to touch you. At least at first. After a bit, neither of you could seem to stop.

But Cooper was doing this in front of other people. Maybe it was your fault for agreeing to hang out with him tonight and agreeing to see a movie with him tomorrow, but you would have preferred he do this in private.

"Let's go to my room then," he coaxed in what you were sure he thought was an endearing tone. But his breath smelled like beer in a bad way, and when he kissed you, it was obvious that he had overdone it. 

All you could think about was Jake. 

Jake. Jake. Jake. 

You needed to put a stop to this, but tonight wasn't working for you.

"Cooper, I think we should just hang out tomorrow. You know, when you're sober?"

At least he had the decency to look abashed. And when you went out with him on Saturday, he was much better. He didn't invite you back to his room again, even after you made out with him, which you appreciated. You'd known him for months, way longer than you knew Jake, but you couldn't figure out why you weren't as comfortable around him. 

There was just something about Jake. Charisma. That was it. Charm. Every woman probably reacted to him the way you had, and he was probably just as attentive to everyone else.

Since Cooper was the reason you ended up at Jake's in the first place, you let him eat lunch with you all week and walk you back to your dorm from your classes. You let him wrap his arm around your waist and tuck his fingers into the top of your jeans. You let him kiss you each time you saw him.

You needed to give him a shot. It wasn't really his fault that you had Jake on the brain after weeks of dodging his advances. He wanted you, and you deserved to enjoy him. You already rid yourself of your virginity, and you knew the twelve rules. Condoms and communication and no cutting corners. You had this. Besides, you'd never know if it would always be just as good with another partner unless you saw it through.

So the following Friday, after you finished your classes for the week, you took a shower and changed into a dress that Cooper told you weeks ago looked cute, and then you walked the mile or so to the other end of campus where he lived. He was waiting for you when you got there with a smile on his face, and your heart beat a little faster.

"Come on inside," he said, holding out his hand. He was familiar now, and comfort could grow over time. You were sure of it. And he was a good kisser when he wasn't drinking. Tonight it felt nice, and he wrapped you up in his arms as soon as you walked past his roommates who were playing video games. 

When he opened his door, he said, "I even cleaned my room for you. What do you think?"

It looked the same as it always did, and you rolled your eyes and laughed. "You didn't. But it doesn't matter."

"I tried a little," he mumbled, grinning at you before he closed the distance to kiss you again. "Give me a tiny bit of credit?"

Your heart skipped a beat as his hands found your waist, and you sighed when his lips drifted along your neck. He sucked on you there, bruising you before pulling away. But it didn't feel bad. Not at all. It felt okay. You closed your eyes, immediately getting lost in the feel of it. Firm chest against your breasts. Big hands. Soft hair. Your fingers gave a little tug on the strands, and he groaned, cock hard in his jeans, pressing against you.

"Do you wanna....?" Cooper asked, easing your dress up your legs. You were almost startled when you remembered it was him instead of Jake, but you nodded.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I want to." You still had the three condoms in your little purse along with your fake ID and your actual ID. But when you ended up on your back on his bed, Cooper was already excitedly reaching for your underwear even though you definitely weren't ready to get a condom out yet. 

"How about a little more foreplay?" you asked, and he looked back at you like it was a foreign concept. "I like foreplay," you added softly. 

"Right," he replied, climbing on top of you where he touched you through your panties until you weren't exactly sure if you were wet or not. You tried to slow him down by kissing him, but he was practically rutting against your leg. 

"Will you go down on me?" you asked him, and he almost groaned.

"I mean... I guess. If you go down on me."

It must have been because it was your first time together, but he seemed in a hurry. He didn't stay in one place long enough for you to get the hang of how it felt with him. You didn't like rushing. You liked long, drawn out orgasms and being called Darlin'. Cooper didn't call you anything. He didn't speak at all; he only grunted as the two of you had sex that left you completely unsatisfied.

Well. You had tested your theories and come up with several conclusions. Sex was not exciting with every partner. Guys did in fact like to cut corners. And not all of them seemed to know the twelve rules rules. As you pulled your dress on over your head, you thought about how much better you felt around Jake than you ever would around Cooper.

"Feel like playing video games with me and the guys? Or you just want to leave until I see you tomorrow?" Cooper asked, opening his bedroom door and hovering there expectantly as tears stung your eyes. 

"You know," you whispered, trying to keep your voice calm, "I think I'll just walk back to my place."

"Okay, cool."

He didn't offer to walk with you. All he did was send you off with a kiss as he opened a can of beer while his friends called his name. You made it about two blocks before you started crying, because you had tried so hard to fool yourself, but you completely fucked everything up.

Jake was nothing but a perfect gentleman the whole time you were with him. He took care of you in so many ways, not just sexually, and you made him feel bad about himself. It didn't matter why he was skilled in bed, he was sweet. He hadn't mentioned other women while you were there, but you did. There was nobody to blame except yourself.

You practically tripped on the sidewalk as your tears obscured your vision, and you sat down hard on a bench with your phone in your hand. You tried to find Kylie's name in your contacts list, hoping she would come pick you up, but instead your thumb paused over Jake Seresin. And then you did something stupid.

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

Jake was sitting on his couch in his underwear eating a pizza with toppings he didn't even like when his phone rang. The caller had a local area code, but he didn't know the number. He was about to swipe to ignore it when his curiosity got the best of him.

"Hello?"

He was met with silence. Or so he thought. He was about to end the call, but then he heard a soft sigh. His heart beat a little faster as he tossed the slice of pizza back into the open box.

"Hello?" he repeated, gentler this time.

"Jake."

He would know your voice anywhere. He'd been replaying everything you said to him in his mind for the past two weeks. He was afraid he'd never hear from you again. "Darlin'," he said softly, missing the way that word felt on his tongue. "Are you okay?"

The sound of your breathing was followed by a sob as you said, "Not really."

He was on his feet, tearing down the hallway toward his bedroom in search of clothing as he tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. "Well, then why don't you tell me where you are so I can come try to make it okay?"

There was a short pause, during which he could hear nothing but his own heartbeat. "I would like that," you whispered. Then you gave him an approximate address which he knew was on your college campus.

"I'll be right there," he promised.

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

How are we feeling? Maybe Cooper was a good idea before Jake, but definitely not after. The next chapter will be the last one. Thanks for reading. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

@blahehblah

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[on-leatheredwings]

Remedial Lesson (18+)

Yandere ! Dick Grayson x (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, 18+ > request: non-con for dick grayson? maybe him abusing his power as the titans leader to be a little flirty/touchy with reader before tricking them into letting him inside of their bedroom under false pretenses? > tw/cw: explicit non-con, baby trapping, yandere behaviors, abusive power dynamic > a/n: i just love writing a manipulative dick! And i love writing a manipulative Dick! (ba dum tss) emphasis on non-con in tw's, its not dubcon! > word count: 2545

Stupid, stupid. 

At that thought, the logical, respectable half of your brain admonishes you.

You aren’t stupid. You just were unlucky, you correct softly. You’re plenty capable, and an asset to the team. It could’ve happened to anybody. 

Recently, you’ve been trying to stop your self-deprecation, in an attempt to bolster your self-esteem, solidify your confidence, and quell negative self-talk. 

… Therapist’s orders. 

Being the ever-so-capable superhero you are, today you got blasted by some hypnotizing ray. And then promptly went on a murderous rampage on your teammates. 

You don’t recall anything that happened, only waking up from what felt like a deep sleep to the outstretched hand of Nightwing. Koriand’r told you on the way back to the Tower that you almost killed him – making you stiffen in horror. You almost killed him, and apparently the only thing he had been worried about was you. At the thought, you feel heat swarm in your cheeks.

Despite not having any powers, Nightwing is plenty formidable. You were in complete awe of him today; the way he moves is so effortless, and he’s not even a metahuman. 

You clench your fist with determination. You aren’t a metahuman either, but you pale in comparison to him. You want to be just as formidable as he is. Be just as deserving of the title “Titan.”

On the subject of Nightwing, your mind wanders… He had been quite… hands-on with you today. Shaking you by the shoulders, hand on your cheeks lightly slapping you awake. Encouraging you back to your feet, hand brushing your waist. When the battle was over, you nearly collapsed to your knees, spent. But he caught you, appearing from out of nowhere. 

“Easy,” he had said into your ear, which made you shiver. 

You sigh. 

Okay. So maybe you had a crush. It wasn’t like you were going to do anything about it. He’s your boss – the Titans’ illustrious captain. He was simply helping you along, watching out for a teammate. Mentoring a new hero. After all, you are the Titans’ newest recruit, a post that months later still feels unreal. 

You walk amongst them through the doors of the Tower, conversation and chatter flowing around you. You don’t join in, still ashamed from today’s blunder. How many of them had you tried to hurt? The team has just finished a mission, and it seems a pizza party is in order for tonight. You smile gingerly as Garfield announces vibrantly that you’re invited. (A no-brainer to anyone else since you literally live here, but to you, it means a lot.)

Your secret identity known to the team, you dismiss yourself to change out of your suit and into your civvies. “Hurry back soon,” they say, and the sentiment warms you. You indeed jog to your bedroom, eager to return to the festivities. You’re one of them. You’re really one of them.

You slip into your room, tossing the door back without a second glance. Your fingers pull on the bottom of your shirt. You’re about to peel off your suit, when you hear a shallow thud. That was not the sound your door makes once it's been closed. 

You whip around, and see–

“Nightwing?”

Your leader stands in the doorway, foot acting as an impromptu door stopper. You take him in. His hair cascades in gentle dark waves, curling by the ears. If you didn’t know better, you’d think his suit was painted on. Despite being lightly armored and fortified, it stretches across his body like plastic wrap. You could trace every muscle under his skin– okay, relax. Christ. 

Hey, you think back, mentally wagging a finger. No thought policing.

At the sound of your name being called, you realize you’ve been gawking like an idiot while he stands in your doorframe. You straighten.

“Oh! Y-yes!?”

“Can I come in?” he asks. You nod so fervently that your head is a blur of color.

Nightwing does so, the slightest amicable smile on his lips. Around friends and allies, it seems to be a default expression of his. Still, you’ve spent enough time around him to note that he looks quite… serious. Concerned.

“... Is there anything I can do for you?” you ask, eager to rectify whatever was upsetting him. You so want to impress him. Badly. 

He holds up his hands, as if saying, At ease. “All you can do for me is let me know that you’re alright.”  

You offer a pitiable smile, warmth swirling in your chest. “I am. Thanks for asking– and I’m so, so sorry about today–” 

Nightwing waves you off, approaching you. He places a hand on your shoulder in consolation. “Hey, it could’ve–”

“--Happened to anyone,” you finish, nodding. You look down.

“... Although I admit…” 

Your head snaps to attention. “Yes?”

Nightwing then sighs. His gaze falls to the floor. He tuts and shakes his head as if troubled. You swallow drily. So focused on him, you don’t even notice the circles his thumb kneads into your shoulder.

“Your performance today.” Your throat clenches. Nightwing’s gaze returns to you, hard and critical behind his mask. “Well, frankly, it left much to be desired.”

Your heart plummets, hitting the pit of your stomach. You’re mortified. You haven’t been meeting his standards? Did everyone else think that? Were their hopes misplaced? You feel the thrum of anxiety jitter underneath your skin as you bow your head. Your gaze now captures the two feet keeping you upright.

There’s a stroke to your cheek, to which you flinch. 

“Hey.” Your head whips up. You look up at him, into white lenses that have the ghost of his eyes behind them. “It’s okay. I’m here to help.” 

His face is gentle and consoling. You exhale. He’s just being honest, you think. He’s just being honest. Nothing wrong with some constructive criticism. You let him sit you down on the edge of your bed.

“H-how can I improve?” you ask, voice croaking. “I know I fucked up today. I should’ve seen it coming. I’m so, so sorry if I hurt you or anybody else–”

“Hey,” he says again, soft and delicately. “Listen, it’s alright. I’m going to teach you some things. How to resist better.” 

You nod, slowly, anticipating some verbal advice. 

You watch him with anticipation, giving him your full attention– and then, he kneels before you. You instinctively feel alarm at the increased proximity, before you swat it down. His head is level with your lower abdomen, uncomfortably close to your lap. You don’t have to make it weird, you scoff at yourself.

“... Y-yes?” you say. 

“I’m going to take off your pants.”

You stare. 

Did you hear him right? Was he… joking? 

Clearly not. His hands land on your thighs, effectively drawing a sharp inhale from you. You both lock eyes. His face still holds the same vaguely amicable grin, but it’s now a leer. Your heart quickens. You don’t feel right. 

“... Nightwing?” you ask, feeling suddenly quite small. You don’t know what’s happening. What’s going on?

“You need to be able to withstand a lot more than you currently can,” he continues, talking as casually as if you’re speaking about the weather. You are shell shocked, frozen into submission at the touch of his hands pulling your pants off. His nails scrape along your skin when he has to use more force to jerk it free from under your ass, to which you still don’t react. 

What’s going on? your mind cycles on loop.

It’s when he pulls down your underwear you finally jolt, clumsily kicking at him. Which he catches of course. What a poor move, because your kick only enables him to spread your legs at his leisure. Heat rages to your cheeks. Though not entirely off, your panties do a pitiful job of concealing the tangle of hair nestled between your thighs. The mortification racing through your bloodstream makes you croak. It makes you keep throwing kicks and swats and punches until Nightwing is forced to sandwich your body against your bed. He pins your hands down to the bed, and you know by now it’s a lost cause.

“Help–” you begin, but Nightwing adeptly slips your wrists into one hand, and uses the other to silence you. He smiles bashfully, as if he hadn’t just stripped you without consent or fanfare.

“This is all for you–” At the furrow of your brow, he says, indignantly, “I’m serious! How easy was it for that guy to hypnotize you today?” The question throws a knife into your heart. “Or when last week you were apprehended? Or the week before that?” Each instance makes the burning building in your eyes more and more unbearable. He isn't wrong. Your tears build. He’s not wrong.

Nightwing slowly removes his hand off your mouth, anticipating another yell. You squirm, but don’t make a sound aside from shuddering breaths. 

His grin loses all its flirty qualities. It widens, self-satisfied and predatory. With his teeth he peels off his free hand’s glove, slides it down your torso to the apex between your thighs.

“No,” you whimper, to which he hushes you, lips by the shell of your ear for the second time today. His fingers explore without warning, tracing your labia and brushing against your clit. You gasp, but you don’t scream.

Nightwing tuts, shaking his head. “You’re already wet, I see.”

You tremble, filled with humiliation. “No, I’m not.” One digit delves deeper, experimentally. You grit your teeth.

“You want this,” he says, and you fill with dread at the condescension of his tone. Like this was expected. Like you had so much to learn.

“No, I don’t.”

“But you do. You’re telling me you do.” His fingers – the pair that when gloved, there would’ve been two cobalt blue stripes – scissor inside you, and your breath hitches. “Your body’s telling me you do.”

“I-it’s a biological response.” At the feeling of his fingers swimming inside you, you whimper. This is insane. It can’t be happening. Yet you jerk and twitch with each of his motions. “P-please, I would… Please stop, now…” He doesn’t, pumping his sinful fingers into you. Teases you by dragging them out. 

You throw your head back, biting your lip. He’s panting into your ear – you’d think you were doing something to him, the way he sounds. Your overhead light beams into your gaze, dizzying. It burns, so you close your eyes, hoping this is some humiliating dream. This can’t be real. This can’t be real.

“So you say– Hey.” He nips at your ear and you stir. “Look at me. Look at me.” You do so, and find him staring up at you. His mask is not enough of a barrier. Even if you can’t see them, you know his eyes are scraping over you, peeling your skin back, seeing you whole. Your embarrassment, your weakness, your shame.

“Please stop,” you whisper, eyes stinging. Your thighs tremble, to which he places his free hand on them to steady them. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this. You’re teammates. He’s your captain. 

Nightwing sighs, looking disappointed. Oh no, your mind spirals. He’s disappointed in you. Despite you being desperately uncomfortable– violated– he’s at fault– he’s the one doing something wrong– 

Despite your logical brain asserting itself, you are flooded with a tidal wave of anxiety.

“That’s not good, you know,” he says, and he looks mournful. “Whining is just what they want to hear.” His fingers disappear from your body, and their absence leaves you in shock. Wanting.

Wanting? Do I want this? you think.

Nightwing is reaching behind his neck, tugging and pulling. Before you know it, he’s bare-chested. You don’t marvel at his body, like you would have just an hour before.

“Bad guys aren’t going to listen to you just because you beg.” A tear slips down your face. You swipe at it, but not quick enough for him to miss it. “And they won’t care if you cry… Maybe you don’t need to learn how to resist. You’re not cut out for it, I think,” he tsks. “Maybe, you need to learn how to endure.”

You feel something blunt and wet prod at your entrance, and that’s when the last remains of your primal fight-or-flight instincts kick in. You start to squirm, back arching off the bed. “Please, please, please– no– stop– I don’t want this–” His hand clamps down on your mouth once more, and hard. You push him with all your might, but it’s not enough. You aren’t strong enough.

“Just the tip,” he whispers in the shell of your ear. Just the tip. You can handle at least that. Just the tip.

He repeats it for himself, not you. This you realize as he enters anyway, despite your teary complaints. It is not just the tip; he bottoms out. “You can handle this. I know you can.” 

You’re so confused. You’re so, so confused. You merely clench your eyes shut, nodding at his encouragement. You don’t know what else to do. 

“I know, I know,” he comforts. “Don’t worry, you’re taking it really well. You take it perfect.” You cling onto his words of reassurance, no matter how twisted it feels. It’s the only anchor you’ve got. Each thrust makes you see stars behind your eyelids, bed rocking. The ding of your bed frame hitting the wall is enough to make you finally quiet. The last thing you want is for the others to hear. To walk in and see you utterly helpless. Powerless. Incapable. 

You swallow your sobs, but let the tears stream freely.

“It’d be better if I just got you pregnant right now.”

You feel a cold knife of fear pierce your chest. He can’t. He can’t. You wouldn’t be able to be a hero anymore. 

“You’d be better suited for it,” he hums. You can tell he’s near, his hips snapping more frenetically, his words cut off with his own moans. You’re ashamed to admit moans of your own may have slipped out. You don’t even bother resisting at this point, hoping that if not your strength, then your body can satisfy him. Hoping at least that your body will meet his standards.

“Fuck,” you hear, and not a moment later you feel him shoot ropes of cum into your cunt. You can feel both his cock that throbs with each spray and the warmth spreading into you. You don’t know why you’re shocked at the sensation – it wasn’t as if he seemed keen on using a condom. Nightwing’s hands release you, having gripped you so hard you’re sure you’ve bruised.

He dots sweet kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your cheek. It should be all very sweet, but you can't ignore the poison of the circumstance. “You did so good, you did perfect,” are amongst the accolades he whispers into your clammy skin. You nod weakly, letting him kiss your tears away.

Nightwing dives in for a kiss, desperate to take even more than you’ve already given him. You return it, heart palpitating. You bat away the negative thoughts that threaten to swarm your mind whole. No more negative self-talk, after all. No self-deprecation. It’s okay. You took it well. You endured, like he said.

You did perfect.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [4] - Ray of Light

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A ray of light shines through the clouds.

Word Count: 4242 (to everyone who might be wondering why every chapter is turning 4k+... it's the martini I mean it baby)

CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language, mentions of sex

Series Masterlist

Logan was no stranger to the feeling of restlessness.

For him, it was around every corner; impossible to get away from. Even now, having just returned from the latest mission Charles had sent him on, he couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal, desperate to get out.

He gritted his teeth, slamming the door open to enter his room before he unzipped his suit and took it off, tossing it to the corner of the room. After putting his jeans and white shirt on, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Scott and Jean were already there, perched on the stools while Storm sat on the kitchen island, busy with a file. Rogue was rummaging through the fridge and Bobby was making a sandwich on the counter, still in his suit.

“Do we still not have beer in this place?” Logan asked to no one in particular and Storm looked over her shoulder.

“This place hasn’t stopped being a school since the last time you asked, so no.”

“Great,” he murmured. “Soda it is.”

“It’ll be good for your health,” Rogue said with a grin, then tossed him a bottle which he caught mid-air. He extended his arm in Bobby’s direction without a word and Bobby touched the bottle, making it ice cold.

“Thanks,” he grumbled and pulled himself a seat.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” Storm asked with a curious look in her eyes. “The mission was a success.”

“Is it because that guy almost stabbed you?” Bobby asked, making him frown.

“He didn’t almost stab me,” Logan said as Rogue closed the fridge, nibbling on a slice of pizza.

“When people stab you, do you get annoyed?” Bobby asked and Logan raised his brows.

“More annoyed than right now? Nah, it’s about the same.”

“To repeat, why are you so—” Jean started but stopped talking mid-sentence, a smile pulling at her lips. “Ah. I see.”

“What?”

“We were supposed to come back from this mission around afternoon,” she said. “And it’s Monday.”

Shit.

“Jean, stay out of my head.”

Jean grinned at him. “Oh I’m not in your head. Don’t need to be.”

Scott looked between them. “Is this about Theo’s mom?”

The impact of the simple question was almost instant on the small crowd in the kitchen. Storm immediately put the file in her lap aside to look at him, Bobby stopped making his sandwich and looked up from the jar of peanut butter he had stuck the knife in, and Rogue’s jaw dropped.

Great.

“Wait, seriously?” Bobby asked. “You and her—”

“There’s nothing,” Logan cut him off, forcing himself not to let his thoughts drift to her. “Scott has no idea what he’s talking about as usual.”

“You’re just pissed off because you’ll have to wait until Friday to see her again.”

Logan scoffed. “That has nothing to do with the situation.”

“I think you two would make a cute couple,” Storm said and Jean nodded.

“Oh absolutely.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Logan said with a frown. “And for your information, I could see her whenever I want.”

“I don’t think they’d make a good couple to be honest,” Bobby interfered, “I mean don’t get me wrong but you’re…” he motioned at him, making Logan raise his brows. “You.”

“Nothing gets past your observation skills, does it?” Logan deadpanned while Rogue suppressed a laugh and took another bite of her pizza.

“Opposites attract is definitely a thing.”

Logan opened his mouth to retort, but was instantly distracted when he heard familiar footsteps coming closer to the kitchen, making him look over his shoulder. It wasn’t long until Theo appeared at the door in his pajamas, making Rogue let out an “aw!”.

“Hi Theo.”

“Hi Miss Rogue!” Theo gave them a happy smile. “And Mr. Logan and Miss Storm and Mr. Cyclops and Miss Jean and Mr. Ice Man!”

Even Logan had to admit, the kid was adorable. Theo pushed his glasses up, blinking up at them while holding a huge tin container to his chest as the small crowd in the kitchen greeted him back, making his smile bigger.

“Hi bub,” Logan said and Theo waved at him with one hand while still clutching to the tin with the other.

“What are you doing up at this hour Theo?” Storm asked and Theo looked down at the tin container, then up at them again.

“Um—” he said. “Do you know my friend Ralph?”

Bobby tilted his head. “The fish guy?”

“Yeah!” Theo nodded fervently before pushing his glasses up again. “So he told me his mom never baked him cookies, and—I didn’t know moms didn’t bake cookies because mine does whenever I feel bad, so I told my mom about that and um…yesterday she baked cookies for me to bring here,” he said, pressing his index finger on the tin as if to emphasize his point. “Everyone had one but you weren’t around, Professor X said you were busy, and I stayed up late so that you could have some cookies as well.”

She had baked cookies.

For the whole school.

Logan had to remind himself it was the middle of the night so he couldn’t in fact go all the way to her apartment to see her and kiss her and—

Focus.

He had to focus.

But for fuck’s sake, it was almost agonizing at this point. She was actually, genuinely nice, as if it wasn’t enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was, how sweet she smelled, and just how much he wanted to—

Not going there, he forced himself to think. Focus.

Theo made his way to the kitchen island and stood up on his tiptoes to place the tin on the island, making Jean press a hand on her chest and Storm smile softly. Scott ruffled his hair, making him smile up at him.

“Thank you, Theo,” Jean said. “Please tell your mom we thank her as well.”

“Of course!” Theo said, his voice cheerful. “Good night!”

“Good night bub.”

“Good night Theo!”

“I’m so going to babysit when you two get together,” Rogue said through her teeth as if she was hanging by a thread while Bobby rushed to the container to open it the moment Theo left the kitchen. “I swear to God, Logan—”

“No, I agree with Bobby,” Scott said. “She’s too nice for him.”

Bobby pointed at Scott with the cookie he was holding while Logan flipped him and Storm grabbed two cookies, tossed one to Rogue and turned to Jean.

“I’ll fill Charles in about the mission, are you coming?”

“Sure,” she said and grabbed a cookie as well. “I’ll see you guys later.”

With that they both walked out of the kitchen, Storm talking about what an adorable kid Theo was before Bobby popped the cookie into his mouth, then let out a moan.

“Jesus this is too good!” he said. “No I’m serious Logan, she’s like actually pretty and nice and bakes cookies. When was the last time you did anything nice for us?”

“I saved your life like half an hour ago, dipshit,” Logan pointed out, making Rogue laugh. “And every word out of your mouth makes me think I should’ve sat that one out.”

Scott chuckled and took out a cookie out of the container, then nodded at Logan.

“Do you want to have one or do you want to go ring shopping—” he started but he was cut off when one of Bobby’s friends, Caleb, if Logan wasn’t mistaken, entered the kitchen.

“Storm said there were cookies?”

“Over there.” Bobby motioned at the kitchen island. “Theo’s mom made them.”

“Oh she's such a babe,” Caleb said as he reached out for the container, making Logan turn to him while Rogue made a face. “The things I’d do, seriously, the milf of my—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when Logan grabbed his arm and slammed it to the counter while Rogue exclaimed “Ew, Caleb!” and Scott tilted his head.

“Logan,” he said, his voice completely calm. “We’re not slamming students to flat surfaces.”

Logan gritted his teeth, glaring at Caleb whose heartbeat got much faster, the unmistakable scent of fear lingering in the air.

“Caleb, right?” he growled. “Listen Caleb, the next time I hear you talk about her, or even look at her in any way,” He unsheathed his claws, causing Caleb to let out a whine. “I will rip your fucking tongue out. Do you understand?”

Caleb nodded fervently again and Logan clenched his jaw, then pulled his hand back and Bobby grabbed Caleb by his shirt.

“It’s his first time in public, that’s why he is like this,” he said helpfully, dragging him out of the kitchen. “You fucking dumbass….”

“Sure,” Scott said after a beat, turning to Logan. “There’s nothing going on between you and her.”

Logan sipped his soda. “Shut up.”

Scott held up his hands, mocking surrender.

“Just something to think about,” he said with a smirk. “I’m gonna go find Jean. Good night.”

“And I’m gonna find Bobby and smack Caleb,” Rogue said, pushing herself off the counter. “Good night Logan.”

“Good night kid,” Logan said as they both left the kitchen and he narrowed his eyes at the container on the kitchen island before making his way to it. He grabbed a cookie to bite into it, his eyes closing as the sweetness crumbled inside his mouth, making him let out a breath.

A scene flashed before his eyes, something out of a dream; him in a cabin in the woods with her in his arms. He buried his nose into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent into his lungs as he pressed her warm body against his, her heartbeat getting faster before he forced himself to open his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

“Keep it together,” he muttered to himself and popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, then pushed himself off the counter and made his way upstairs.

                                         *

Throughout the week, it was one mission after the other. He was beginning to think Charles was doing it on purpose, and when Friday finally arrived, as much as he hated to admit, he could barely focus on anything else.

“Come on, to the lake!” one of the boys said as he walked past them. “Ralph, where’s Theo?”

“Professor X wanted to see him, and I think he left already,” he heard the boy say. “Ugh, I was gonna show him this new fish in the lake! It’s huge!”

 Left?

No, he was still around. Logan could hear his happy chatter with someone through the chatter of the crowd but her scent wasn’t anywhere near so he followed Theo’s voice downstairs, stepping out of the building before—

“Have a nice weekend Mr. Logan!”

Logan’s head whipped around as Theo waved at him, then looked up to the man beside him as he took off his backpack so that the man could take it from him. “Uncle Jamie, this is Mr. Logan!”

What the fuck?

“Who the hell are you?” Logan asked the brunette, making him frown at the apparent hostility in his voice, but he didn’t dwell on it.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Jamie. I’m picking up the little guy today.”

“No you’re not,” Logan scoffed. “Do we even know who you are?”

“You don’t, but the school does,” Jamie said after a beat. “I appreciate the caution but his mother called Professor Xavier beforehand to let him know, so it’s okay.”

“Uncle Jamie, Mr. Logan helped mommy out with the car when it broke down, and he drove her home the other day, I heard mommy talk about it with auntie Julie!”

Jamie tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “…How helpful of him.”

“And Uncle Jamie is the hero who saved me when I was in mommy’s belly, Mr. Logan!” Theo introduced him, making Logan raise his brows.

“Is that right?”

“I was an intern, Theo was a premature birth.”

 “And you do years long follow up with all your patients or is this one a special case?” Logan asked as a dry smile twitched Jamie’s mouth before he clicked his tongue.

“It is,” he said. “I could ask you the same question though. Do you drive every parent home, or is this one a special case?”

Okay no, he did not like this prick.

However, Theo was right there so he had to mind his language, for his sake.

“You know what Theo, I’m pretty sure I just heard your friends say they were going to the lake,” Logan said, making Theo’s eyes widen. “They were talking about this huge fish. Do you want to go with Uncle Jamie or do you want to stick around a little to see that fish?”  

“Really?!”

“Go ahead,” Logan said. “Uncle Jamie will wait. Won’t you, bub?”

Theo didn’t even wait for Jamie’s answer as he darted for the yard, and Jamie gritted his teeth, shaking his head slightly.

“Unbelievable…” he muttered. “Are you even a teacher here?”

“Sometimes,” Logan said with a shrug of his shoulders and Jamie hummed, then took out his phone and touched the screen before taking it to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

“Hi Jamie!”

It was almost funny, how her soft voice managed to put Logan in a better mood instantly but he tried not to think about it.

“Hi sunshine,” Jamie said, making Logan frown. “Listen, Theo wants to hang out with his friends a little more. Should I wait or…?”

“No no, you go back to the hospital,” she said. “I’ll leave in like an hour or so anyway. It’s a good thing that he’s socializing so um—just, let him.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Thank you again Jamie, really.”

“No problem honey.”

“You can follow the way back,” Logan said, nodding in the direction of the gates when Jamie hung up and he heaved a sigh.

“I know your type, you know?”

“I doubt it.”

“No no, I do,” Jamie said, motioning at him. “This whole tough guy bullshit isn’t gonna impress her.”

A cocky smirk curled his lips. “What, are you threatened?”

Jamie scoffed a laugh.

“That’s not what this is,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve known you for five minutes and I can already tell she deserves better than you.”

That—

That was true actually. Even Logan knew that; hell, he had been trying to make himself understand that ever since he had met her, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t.

Knowing it wasn’t enough to make him stop thinking about her.

“Guess you and I have one thing in common then,” Logan stated. “But I seem to be making better progress in a month than you have in years, huh?”

Jamie shook his head.

“See you around,” he said before he walked away and Logan took a deep breath, then ran a hand through his hair.

“Asshole…” he muttered and made his way through the yard to keep an eye on Theo in case he got too close to the lake.

                                       *

The strange thing wasn’t that he smelled her the minute she arrived.

It was what her scent did to him.

As soon as the familiar sweetness tickled his nostrils, his head snapped up and he looked around, then got up from the bench he was sitting on, painfully aware of his heartbeat getting faster. He strode through the yard, away from where Theo and his friends were running around and towards the gates, where her scent was stronger.

He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t smell like him.

Jamie.

He had no idea why he was getting so worked up on the existence of that asshole, but somehow that detail alone managed to soothe the hot jealousy running through his veins. He knew Jamie had a point, he had been saying the same thing to himself ever since he met her, yet it didn’t mean…

There she was.

He didn’t know how she managed to look everyone and everything else in shadows where she herself was the only thing illuminated as if she had her own ray of sunlight falling over her. The mere sight of her was enough to make him stare at her as she waved at him, her heart pacing in her chest as soon as her eyes fell on him, the pleasant sound nearly deafening in his ears—

No.

He had to focus.

Logan had seen wild animals in captivity before. How they would be straining at their leash, how they would be slamming against their cage, nearly blind with the desire to be let loose and lately, whenever she was around, she had the same effect on him.

“Hey stranger!” she said with a bright smile as she reached him. “Are you okay? You seem…tense.”

Shit.

“Me?” Logan asked. “Nah. Hi.”

Good string of sentences there.

“Hi,” she said, looking up at him. “Look at that, you’re here.”

Logan pulled his brows together. “I live here.”

“No no, I meant—” her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the misunderstanding. “Right, of course you do. It’s just that, when I dropped Theo off on Monday you weren’t here, not that I noticed—disclaimer, I definitely did notice in case it has escaped your notice—but you know, I figured you were busy, and then Theo said…”

Alright, why did he find this cute?

Since when did he find things cute?

“And he must’ve seen someone’s suit or something because now he wants one, and I told him he can have one for Halloween but guess who didn’t think that through, because now I’ll have to tell Julie, she’s the arts and crafts person to go to in a situation like this. I’m just going to bribe her with cookies which is everyone’s favorite payment method I feel like …”

Don’t kiss her.

Do not kiss her.

A part of him wanted to go check with Charles to make sure he wasn’t fucking with his mind, to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination because this wasn’t normal. Having her within his reach, all he could think about was pulling her closer, kissing her and taking her to his bed upstairs, to taste her until the only thing left in her mind was his name, her body trembling, her soft voice hoarse while she begged for—

“And I’ll stop talking now because you’re giving me that look again, do I have something on my face?”

Fuck.

She was looking up at him with a small frown pinching her brows together so he shook his head and said the first thing he could come up with:

“I tried the cookies.”

…Yeah no, Charles had to be fucking with his mind to make him this tongue tied.

“Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?” she asked, her heartbeat getting faster like she was nervous to hear the answer and Logan nodded his head.

“It was amazing,” he said, making her let out a breath, a happy light shining in her eyes.

“Really?”

“I’m serious,” Logan said, “The best cookie I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Aw, that’s wonderful!” she said, smiling wide. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies, so when Theo mentioned his friend I figured— do you know where he is by the way?”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“By the lake with his friends,” he said. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

“Finally in the welcoming tour committee huh?” she joked as she started walking beside him and he chuckled.

“Only for you.”

“Much appreciated,” she said. “I was gonna come earlier actually but there was this thing at work, it was a disaster.”

“What happened?”

“Well, the grill stopped working around the lunch hour,” she said. “They fixed it but waiting for food makes people very grumpy. There was this one customer, he…” she made a face, making him frown.

“What?”

“He was in a very bad mood but thankfully he calmed down when I gave him ice tea on the house.”

Logan shook his head slightly. “You should stop being so nice to people, princess.”

That seemed to make her heart skip a beat, causing a small smile to curl his lips while her hand shot up to her mouth for her to bite at her nail.

“In my defense, that’s not being nice, that’s just being in the service industry,” she mumbled. “Good thing it was fixed fast though.”

Logan hummed.

“So…” he trailed off. “Uncle Jamie then?”

“Oh, you’ve met him?”

“I was around,” Logan lied through his teeth. “When he came here.”

“Yeah, Theo adores him,” she said, nodding her head. “Jamie saved his life when he was an intern—fun fact, some doctors don’t take you seriously when you’re pregnant at 18 and completely clueless, so I knew something was wrong but he was the only one who believed me. He got chewed out by his supervisor but he ended up saving Theo’s life.”

Logan frowned, distracted from the Jamie issue for a moment.

“His father wasn’t there?”

“Nope,” she said with a bitter smile. “He was uh…busy.”

What the fuck?

“Do you know where he is now?” Logan asked, anger shooting through him and she let out a laugh.

 “He’s in the past,” she said. “And he should stay there.”

 He wanted to insist, he really did. The guy sounded like the type of asshole who really needed to get his ass beaten, but before he could ask, she had already changed the subject.

“But yeah, Jamie is amazing,” she said. “He’s very protective, he’s like the brother I never had.”

He bit back the pleased smile threatening to pull at his lips at the second part of that sentence and hummed.

“Yeah?” he said. “Does he know that?”

“Hm?”

“That he’s the brother you never had?”

She blinked up at him in confusion, her brows pinching together before a look of realization downed on her beautiful face, her heartbeat getting faster.

“He does,” she said, nodding her head. “So does his boyfriend.”

…Ah.

He had misunderstood the situation.

That had to be what Jamie meant when he had said “That’s not what this is,” he wasn’t trying to get with her, he was genuinely cautious about strangers such as himself. That whole exchange made sense now, considering the story about him saving Theo’s life; he had met her when she was alone, and had been trying to keep her and Theo safe ever since.

Of course.

“And he’s in a very happy relationship with him,” she added. “Unlike—you know, unlike me who’s not in a relationship at all, totally single. Not that you asked but it’s like…it’s like general trivia about me, and—whoa, today is a hot day isn’t it? Because honestly, it wasn’t this hot when I left the car—”

“Mom!”

“Oh thank God,” she muttered as she turned her head to look at Theo who was running at full speed to them and Logan bit back his grin as Theo reached them and flung himself into her arms.

“I missed you bean!” she said, hugging him tight and kissing the top of his hair. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” Theo said, his glasses slipping as he nodded fervently and she pushed them up again with a fond look on her face. The sight sent a warmth through Logan’s chest, a smile he didn’t even notice curling his lips. “We saw a big fish!”

“Really?” she gasped, her whole attention on him, hanging onto every word he said. “How big was it?”

“This big!” Theo spread his arms as wide as he could, making her smile widen.

“Whoa, that sounds big!” she said. “What color was it?”

She was too good at this. Even an outsider could see how excited Theo was to tell her everything, how genuinely happy he was to have her there and how attentive she was with him.

“Gray,” Theo answered. “Mom, maybe it’ll grow up to be a shark!”

Logan tilted his head and she exchanged glances with him as if telling him not to tell Theo it would not in fact grow up to be a shark, and Logan winked at her, making her giggle.

“Maybe,” she said, turning to Theo. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Theo said and she fixed his shirt, then took his backpack from him to swing it over her shoulder.

“Say goodbye to Logan.”

“Goodbye Mr. Logan!”

Logan ruffled his hair. “Have a great weekend bub.”

“I’ll see you around?” she asked and Logan couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful face before reminding himself to pull himself together.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to focus. “Don’t be too nice to people until then.”

Her smile widened and she heaved a sigh, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Don’t be too mean to people until then,” she replied and took Theo’s hand, walking away with him. He could hear her asking what else he had seen in the lake and Theo listing every single fish he had seen so he watched them until they were out of his line of sight, then let out a breath.

“Fuck…” he muttered, frowning to himself. “She’s beautiful, got it. Get your shit together.”

5 - Dusk

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 1: The Change

“Happy birthday, to you,” your teacher, Mrs. Palmer, and classmates finish singing to you.

“Thank you, everyone,” you giggle, happy that everyone did something special for your birthday in the middle of class.

You’re now six-years-old and your Momma’s promised to take you to Little Luigi’s Pizza Place after school, where you’ll get to open your presents from her, as well as eat all the pizza you want and have a cookie pizza for free! You begged her to let you stay home, but she laughed and said that she had to meet her publisher for her upcoming book, but she promised that after she was done, she’d come check you out and the two of you would go celebrate your birthday.

You look up at the clock (good thing it’s digital, because you haven’t learned to read the old clocks yet!) and see that it’s almost time for lunch.

“Come on, Momma,” you mutter to yourself. “Get here, already.”

Seriously, you didn’t plan to eat lunch, so you didn’t bother packing lunch today!

Just then, the intercom above the door chimes.

“Mrs. Palmer,” the school secretary asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you please send Y/N Gould to the office, please? There’s someone here to see him.”

“Yes,” you cheer, making a few in the class laugh.

“Of course,” she responds before the device clicks off.

You grab your backpack and toss it over your back before rushing towards the door.

“Bye, Y/N,” one classmate says as you pass her.

“Happy birthday,” another says as you near the door.

“Enjoy your birthday, Y/N,” Mrs. Palmer says, her usual bright smile on her face. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Remember to have your worksheet done.”

And with that, you leave the room and skip down the hall to the main office, happy that your school is small so you don’t have to walk far. As you do, all you can think about is all the pizza you’re about to eat! And the chocolate chip cookie pizza that you get after that! And don’t forget about the presents! Maybe you’ll get the new Pokémon Platinum game for your DS, or a new stuffed animal, or maybe a new movie!

The suspense is practically tearing you apart and you enter the office, ready to greet your Momma when you see… Sheriff Foley. And he looks… sad. You look to the secretary, who’s standing behind him, and she has the same sad look.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Sheriff Foley,” you say, looking around to find Momma, but not finding her. “What’s wrong? Where’s Momma?”

“Son,” he says as the secretary begins to cry a bit. “I have some bad news.”

You feel a weird feeling in your stomach, like when you eat a bunch of ice cream and get sick, but this feeling is worse than that.

“What?”

“It’s about your momma. I got a call from the police in Vegas and they said there had been a car accident. Some drunk fool leaving a casino hit your mother’s car.”

You feel your heart stop at the words “hit” and “mother.”

“Is she ok,” you manage to say. “She’s at the hospital, right?”

The secretary’s crying becomes louder.

“I’m sorry, son,” he says, a tear falling from his eye. “He was going too fast when he hit her. She’s gone.”

“Gone? Like missing?” Now, you’re crying. “Why can’t they find her?”

“No, gone as in she’s no longer with us.”

“Like… she’s gone to heaven,” you whisper.

He nods and it’s then you feel your entire world collapse. You remember what Momma said about going to heaven when you saw a squirrel asleep on the side of the road. She’d said that he had gone to heaven after falling asleep and that he wouldn’t be waking up again. That he’d always be there.

“No,” you cry, tears and snot falling from your face. “No, she can’t be in heaven! She said she’d be here!”

Sheriff Foley takes you into his arms as you cry.

The next few days go by in a blur. You stay with Sheriff Foley and his wife until the funeral. Unfortunately, the accident was so bad that the casket had to stay closed, so you weren’t able to see her one last time before she’s put in her grave. The whole town of Goodsprings is there; she was an author writing best-selling romance novels set during the Age of Sail and a pillar of the community, so everyone wanted to be there to say their final goodbyes to her and their condolences to you.

You said nothing during the whole thing. You hadn’t said anything since Sheriff Foley told you that Momma had gone to heaven and that she wouldn’t be back. The only noise to leave you is the sound of crying.

“Y/N,” he says as you watch the grave be filled with dirt. “When we leave, we’ll have to go by your house. You need to pack anything you need.”

“Why,” you ask, your voice sore from crying for days.

“Because a man is waiting there for you and when you have everything you need, he’ll take you to McCarran Airport. From there, you’ll go to Gotham City in New Jersey.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, first you lose Momma and now you’re losing your home?

“Why do I have to leave,” you say, tears streaming down your face.

“Because the county did some checking and found your father through a DNA test.”

You freeze at that. Your Daddy?

“Momma, do I have a Daddy,” you asked her once.

“You do, baby, but he doesn’t know about you,” she answered. “We met years ago, back when Momma was young and dumb. When I found out I was having you, I couldn’t find him. That’s when I realized I had to act right.” She rubbed her hand through your hair. “It’s thanks to you that I’m not like that anymore.”

That conversation goes through your head as you ride back to your house. You’re actually going to meet your Daddy? When you pull up to your house you see a fancy car sitting in the driveway and an elderly man in a suit standing next to it, watching you as you get out.

“I’m sorry, who’re you,” Sheriff Foley asks.

“Alfred Pennyworth,” the man says, bowing a little. “Butler to the Wayne Family. I apologize, Sheriff, but I’m afraid Master Bruce was unable to get away. Urgent business at Wayne Enterprises demanded his attention.”

“More urgent than his son?”

You can see the butler slightly flinch at that, despite how good he tries to hide it.

“I understand your frustration. I expressed the same sentiments, but Master Bruce couldn’t be persuaded to leave the matter to Mr. Fox.” He looks down at you. “I trust this is young Master Y/N?”

You can’t help but duck behind the sheriff’s legs to hide from him.

“Yeah, this is him.”

“I’m glad to meet you, though I wish it was under more joyous circumstances. You have my most sincere condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the ground.

“Come on, son, let’s get all your stuff packed.”

The three of you spend the next hour packing all your toys and clothes into cardboard boxes. When asked about your bed, dresser, and other larger things, Alfred said a room had already been prepared for you with a king sized bed and a dresser with room for all your clothes and more.

“Should you require anything else, I will ensure Master Bruce provides it.”

“What will happen to the house,” you finally ask Sheriff Foley, afraid for what he would say.

“Your momma already paid off her house and her will said that everything that’s hers goes to you. For now, the county will care for it until you turn eighteen, which is when you can inherit it.”

Hearing that should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t because you’d have to wait so long to come back and even then, Momma still wouldn’t be here. As the two adults packed up the last of the boxes in the fancy rental car, you slipped away into your Momma’s office at the back of the first story. You slide open the doors, expecting to see her at her desk, working on her latest story like you’d done so many times before, but this time, an empty room and silence greets you.

You enter her office and hop into the big revolving chair, her favorite perfume still lingering from the morning of your birthday. You look at the desk and find something that takes your breath away: her favorite gold ink pen. One day, you’d asked her why your last name was Gould and she’d told you that your family came from a long line of goldsmiths who once made jewelry and other small things for rich people. Momma’s Daddy still worked with metal, even after the family practice was shut down, and when she said she was going to become a writer, he made her a gold ink pen to bring her good luck. You pick it up, looking at the beautiful design, and begin to tear up.

She carried it everywhere she went, so seeing it here cements the fact that she’s not coming back. Maybe if she wasn’t in a big hurry that morning, she would’ve remembered to take it with her and the accident never would’ve happened. And she’d still be here with you.

“Y/N,” the Sheriff says as he enters the office. “We finished packing everything. Are you ready to go?”

You want to say no and refuse to leave, but you know that you can’t stay here. You quietly pocket the pen and follow him to the car, where Alfred waits for you.

“Alright, son, be good for Mr. Pennyworth here. Do what he says and be a good boy like your momma taught you.” He gives you a hug and you wish it would never end, because then you’d never have to leave your home. “You’ll be back before you know it, and your home will be here waiting for you.”

A with that, you get into the car with Mr. Pennyworth and begin the drive to the airport. You use the mirror to see your house one last time, seeing it get smaller and smaller until it’s out of sight.

“I know this is sudden after the loss of your mother, but I promise Master Bruce and I will do everything we can to make Wayne Manor a home for you.”

“What’s it like?”

“The manor? It’s a large estate with a long and storied history that dates back to the early days of Gotham. There’s plenty of rooms for you to explore.”

“And what about my Daddy? What’s he like?”

“Master Bruce is a skilled businessman and one of Gotham’s biggest socialites. He’s also the adoptive father of Masters Dick and Jason.”

“He already has kids? Would they be my brothers?”

You’d heard of several of your classmates having older and younger siblings and had thought about having a brother or a sister. What would it be like to carry around someone younger than you or be care for by someone older than you.

“Master Dick would be your older brother, but he’s now living at the manor right now. He’s off finding himself right now, but I have no doubt that he’ll be back one day.”

“What about Jason?”

Mr. Pennyworth frowns at your words and you feel afraid that you’ve said something wrong.

“Master Jason would be your older brother, as well, but he was taken from us. With any luck, he and your mother have met one another.”

Oh…

“When did he go to heaven?”

“He left us a few months ago, but it feels just like yesterday.”

And with that, the talk is over. You two arrive at the airport and after the butler returns the rental car, he guides you to the gate where a private jet awaits the two of you. You can’t help but be amazed that you’re riding in a private jet that looks so much better than the ones you’ve seen on tv. You sit in one of the seats and it’s way softer than your bed.

“Master Y/N, we’re getting ready for takeoff,” the butler says as he puts his seatbelt on. “Put your seatbelt on.”

You do as you’re told and before you know it, you feel the jet begin to move. You hurry to look out the window to see everything moving past before the jet begins to fly. You stare out the window, watching Nevada, the state you’ve called home, get smaller and smaller until you’re above the clouds, unable to see anything, even the massive buildings of the Strip, which could be seen for miles.

It’s then you realize that this is real, that you’re leaving everything you’ve ever known and won’t be back for years and tears begin to fall from your face. You’ve spent the last few days crying so much that you’d think that you’d think that you would run out of tears, but apparently not. Not wanting to disturb Mr. Pennyworth, you face the window and bite your lower lip to stop making noises.

Somehow the flight seemed to be both long lasting and not long enough, because eventually, you saw a city show up below you. You squint your eyes to get a better look through the smog and see many tall buildings, all of the having those scary stone creatures you saw on a movie once.

“Welcome to Gotham City, Master Y/N.”

A/N: I’m hoping to make this a series that sees somewhat regular updates, but don’t quote me on that. I’ve been getting back into Resident Evil and I look up Yandere Batfamily stuff on this site so much it’s not even funny. Sorry if the first chapter was so long, but I thought if the first chapter was long enough, people would forgive me if future chapters are a bit lacking. Also, this series is heavily influenced by several of my favorite users, like @acid-ixx , @gotham-daydreams , @luludeluluramblings , and @darkstaria . You should totally check them all out.

[gurugirl]

BRUTAL | step!dad!h

NOTE: Just a reminder that while this is step!dad x step!daughter - Harry has never been a father figure to Y/n in this story. They met when she was already in her 20s and Harry is closer in age to Y/n than he is to her mother. Their relationship is clearly inappropriate but he never knew her as a minor or a child and I would never write that kind of stepdad fic (anyone who's been a fan of this trope since the beginning knows this). < for all the haters who accused me of that not long ago

Summary: You come home for the weekend and Harry just wants you to tell the truth. Based on this ask!

A/n: It's been almost a year since I've given y'all anything for stepdad!H. ENJOY!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: cheating, smut, lying, inappropriate relationship, spanking

step!dad!harry masterlist

. .

“Stop,” Harry warned.

You did it again. Reached your socked foot out to his lap and nudged against his crotch. Your mom was just in the other room talking to you about what she should make for dinner since you were planning on staying for the weekend.

“What if we just order pizza?” You answered as you grinned at your stepdad, pressing down at the lump that he was trying to keep at bay.

Your mom walked into the living room just as you quickly pulled your foot away from Harry. You’d both been sitting on opposite sides of the couch and the moment she stepped out of the living room to get ready for her scheduled surgery you started fucking with him.

“Okay. I’ll pick up a couple of pizzas on the way back. There’s this new pizza spot not far from here that I’ve been wanting to try.”

Harry sat up and placed his elbows on his knees to hide the way he was already thickening in his pants, “Sounds good, love.”

She bent down to kiss him and then looked at you, patting your knee, “Glad you’re here for the weekend. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

You smirked to yourself as you turned your attention to the TV and Harry sat quietly in his spot as your mom walked out. You knew you were in for it.

For one, you hadn’t seen Harry in weeks. You’d been too busy and you were enjoying college life. You still texted him frequently but he was jealous because you’d often be out with friends and that included guys. He’d see your Instagram posts where you were dancing with other boys or wearing very little and he’d text you asking who you were with and it’d just make you feel all smug and satisfied to know he was suffering like he was.

For another thing, the moment you walked into the door that morning you’d been nothing but bratty with him. A right pain. But that was because you needed something punishing and rough from him. Something that would stick between your teeth and that you’d feel for a few days after you left.

Well, you just needed Harry to fuck your brains out. You’d tried fucking around with other guys but they didn’t do it for you. No one did it the way Harry did.

And the moment your mom’s car was out of the driveway and down the street you felt his hand gripping your arm and pulling at you, “You know better than to act this way with me.” He pulled your stretchy shorts down, taking your panties with them and tossing them across the room before he had you stuffed, face down on the couch with your bare bottom up in the air.

The first swat to your ass was welcome. It was like a shot of pain relief to your insides. The next one stung but you moaned with a grin on your face. The third and fourth made you wiggle your bottom at him and sigh loudly, “Yes, Daddy…”

And that made him pause, “You know what? I’m too nice to you, aren’t I? Giving you exactly what you wanted. But you’re nothing but a childish brat,” the palm that landed on your ass that time had you hissing in pain. He did it again, harder and you felt like your skin was starting to welt.

He held your wrists together behind your back as he landed blow after blow to your backside, making you howl and attempt to move away from him but you had nowhere to go. Tears and slobber were wetting your face and the couch cushion.

It hurt. It fucking smarted. Every strike was worse than before and you knew you’d started it all but damn was he making you wish you’d just been nice.

There was also the fact that you sent Harry a photo of yourself making out with a college guy as you sat in his lap half-naked. You and Harry had been arguing and he told you he didn’t want you anymore anyway and you were hurt by that so you found yourself someone who did want you. You knew Harry was pissed about that too.

“So did you fuck him?” He growled as he finally let up with the spankings.

“Yes. Big cock too,” you lied. You didn’t have sex with him, but he did finger you and it was awful and the moment he pulled his pants down so you could blow him you realized what a mistake it was. His prick was barely half the size of Harry’s.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you so wet from me just beating your ass like this, hmm?” His palm ran over the achy raised skin on your bum and then down to your pussy where you were drenched, “Feel like if you were being fucked properly you wouldn’t be so desperate right now. Bet you’re lying to me.”

You grunted into the couch, your words muffled, “I’m not lying. He’s so good in bed. Miss him.”

Harry laughed, “No you don’t. You missed Daddy. That’s why you got all excited the moment my hands got on you… Yes, Daddy…” he mocked your voice as he repeated your words before landing another solid thud against your bum cheek. You jolted forward and cried out.

“Just tell me the truth and I’ll give you what you want. Something you can’t get from anyone else.”

“He fucked me with his big cock, bigger than yours, and he made me come so much. I let him have me anally last night.”

Harry’s thumb slid over your ass, “If he did then he has a pencil dick. Either that or you’re still lying to me. All you have to do is fess up. Be a good girl for Daddy and tell the truth. Have you really had sex with him?”

You gulped as you felt his thumb tease around your tight hole. Rearing back to urge him to push it in he pushed you back into place, “I’ll stick my thumb inside and fuck your pretty cunt if you tell me the truth.”

Moaning at just the thought of it you turned your head, “He only fingered me. But I hated it. I promise that’s the truth. Now please, Daddy…”

Harry was still and stiff suddenly. It was like the atmosphere in the room had grown thick and heavy as he pulled away from you completely, your hands falling away when he released your wrists. You turned to look at him.

“Harry… I only did it because I’m trying to move on. You get to–”

“I really don’t want to talk about it. Get your top off.”

You stood from the couch and pressed your lips flat, pulling your t-shirt off over your head before stepping in front of Harry completely naked for him to do with as he pleased.

His eyes were dark, brutal, as he slowly removed his belt and then tugged at his button and zipper.

“On your knees on the couch, turned away, face down. I don’t want to look at you right now.”

You did as he said. You knew he was extra pissed off. That you let someone else touch you. Placing your knees on the couch cushion you bent forward and placed your face back into the cushions, “Daddy, I’m sorry. I only want you. He wasn’t even goo–”

You yelped at another smack to your very tender ass and felt his hand pressing down at the back of your neck, “Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear about him.”

He stood behind you and you felt his hands on your hips after letting go of the back of your neck before he rewarded you with his big cock, impaling himself until he was buried in balls deep. You were already sodden from the way he’d spanked you and the way he spoke to you. You’d needed it. You’d need him.

And when he began jackhammering into you, hips thudding against your ass, hands gripping meat of your hips to pull you against him every time he thrust forward, the sticky heat that formed around his cock from your dripping hole… it was relief.

You knew you were fucked in the head for everything. For what you liked and for doing what you were.

He was pounding into you like he was in a hurry and it was all you could do to hold yourself steady as he bullied his fat cock inside. He hissed as he watched the way he stretched you open, “Always gonna need Daddy, aren’t you?”

You gurgled as drool pooled onto the cushion under your mouth, “Yes!”

Just like what you wanted, it was punishing and unkind. You gasped as you held onto the material that covered the cushions. Involuntary grunts were falling from your chest as Harry punched into you.

“Try to make me jealous by sending photos of little twerps you’re seeing but we both know they can’t give it to you like this. Because you’re dirty, filthy… you like your pussy getting railed deep and hard with a nice big dick just like this…” He was panting his words, gritting his teeth. He was on the edge already. He’d missed your tight your pussy. And you too, but he wouldn’t admit it right then.

Letting go of one side of your hip he slowed his plunges and you felt his thumb drag through the spot against your pussy where he was pushing into you. He wiped your arousal all over his thumb and smeared it around your anus before awarding you with a nice little stretch as he pushed his digit inside and began it thrusting, “Need your ass and your pussy stuffed, need to be spanked… you need a lot of things don’t you, baby?”

His cock was dragging into your guts and against your front wall just right, making your walls flutter. And when Harry felt you squeezing he couldn’t help but to take his fingers over your clit and press circles where you needed it. As mean as he might be, he still wanted you to come. That was partly due to his ego and needing to be the best. At least if you did sleep with someone else one day, Harry could tell himself he always made you feel good when he fucked you.

You were grinding back against him, muffled moans coming from you as slick dripped down your thigh. Every plunge of his cock through your wet pussy was gushing, sloshing and Harry was clenching his jaw. What he was watching was filthy and hotter than anything he’d ever seen. Your ass was all marked up, your swollen pussy was gulping him in, and your ass was pulsing around his thumb.

“Coming already?” Harry inhaled deeply, almost in a whimper when he felt you begin to shake and your pussy began to milk him. “Fuck… So desperate to have someone take care of you. Can’t get what you need from any of those losers… mmm shit baby… always coming back to me for more.”

It was true. You hadn’t had sex with any of the guys you tried dating because they didn’t do it for you. You tried but they weren’t Harry. They didn’t handle you the way he did. They didn’t know your body the way he did and they never would because you didn’t want them anyway.

Harry groaned and cursed as he drove into you deeply and you could feel him throbbing as he pumped his come into your tummy. Illicit and hot… you both got each other off like no one else ever could.

When he pulled himself out he cooed, his thumb gently tracing around your ass, “That’s my favorite. Watching my come drip from your pussy after I just destroyed it. Still shaking too,” he gripped the back of your thighs, “Can you sit up?”

You mumbled affirmatively and pushed yourself up slowly, Harry steadying you with his hands. He helped you off the couch and you noted he’d already tucked himself back into his pants, while you were stark naked still.

“You okay?”

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips, “So good. That’s just what I needed.”

Harry smiled and splayed his big hand around the front of your neck and drew you in for a kiss that had you melting.

One day it’d come back to bite you, you were sure, all that sneaking around. But in that moment it was a secret you and Harry would keep holding onto to enjoy for as long as possible.

. .

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[penvisions]

there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}

Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader

Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!

navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Why don’t you date?”

“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.

“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”

“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.

“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”

“Dating and fun are two different things.”

“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”

“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”

The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.

“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”

“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.

“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”

“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”

The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.

“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.

“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.

“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”

“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.

As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.

You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.

He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.

-

Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.

A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.

A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.

The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.

You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.

It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.

The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.

There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.

But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.

Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.

“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.

“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Been here, painting.”

“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”

Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.

“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“

“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.

“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”

-

The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.

They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.

You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.

Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.

But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.

The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.

The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.

-

You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You’re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.

And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.

That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.

“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.

He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Datin’ is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.

“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”

“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”

“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”

“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”

“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”

“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“

“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”

“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.

“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”

“I don’t date old men.”

“No?”

“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”

“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.

“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.

“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.

“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”

“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.

“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.

“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.

“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.

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[silvvermoon]

lover, not a liar ♡

Aki, your best friend, has agreed to teach you how to suck cock. But you need more than that.

pairing: aki hayakaya x reader

wc: 3.7k

tags: friends to lovers, slightly tipsy sex, dom!Aki, rough sex, blowjobs, pet names (baby, princess), calling u good girl, praise, slight dacryphilia, creampie, fluffy ending ♡

“Aki,” you slur, mouth wet and feeling all too warm from the drinks you’d had earlier in the evening. “Are you gonna show it to me or what?” 

You’re sitting on your knees and staring up at your best friend’s erection straining through his grey sweatpants which is, well, pretty unexpected. And definitely not how you pictured spending your Friday night. Aki’s above you, palming himself softly while you wait eagerly for him to teach you how to suck cock. And seeing him like this makes you feel hot. 

It wasn’t something either of you had planned on or even touched on before. You’ve never even shared a kiss with Aki, not a proper one anyway. You’re friends, platonic friends, and that’s all. But tonight, during your usual pizza and movie catch up, the stress of the week finally caught up with you. The awkward silence from your latest 3-month-long fling has been sitting on your mind all night and you just wanted to toss those thoughts all away. Get drunk, complain to Aki, and get distracted by whatever Netflix has to offer. 

Well, that was supposed to be the plan.

Except you forgot how much you overshare once you get a few drinks in you. And Aki’s not exactly 100% sober, despite him holding his alcohol a lot better than you. You never even did get around to ordering that pizza because once you were feeling buzzed enough, all you could keep saying was “and before he started ghosting me, that asshole complained that my blowjobs were terrible. Too much tongue, not enough suction, fuck. Like come on, I wanted to make it good for him but he never told me what he wanted until after, when he just threw negative fucking feedback at me. It’s so humiliating, Aki. Look at my phone! He gave me a rating like I was his Uber driver. Who does that? Who?”

And Aki had, indeed, taken a look at your phone, winced, and then handed it back to you. “I think you dodged a bullet with this one,” he’d said, “and don’t listen to it. I’m sure that’s the last time anyone will suck his dick for him. Even if he offered to pay.”

You’d snorted, laughed so hard that you almost choked even though Aki was dead serious. “But what if he’s telling the truth? Maybe I am shit at giving blowjobs.”

Aki looked at you then, softly, maybe a little bit tipsy too. “It’s the enthusiasm that counts, knowing that you want this so much is what makes blowjobs feel good,” he’d said, and then “besides, I’m sure you’re not shit at them, I’ve seen the way you eat your ice-cream. That’s some real devotion, right there.”

You giggled again, “Sure, sloppy. With no real technique.” And that was that. Your laughter died into  easy silence and Aki was prepared to switch the show on Netflix, until your tipsy brain got the sudden idea of doing something incredibly dumb.

And later, you blame it on the alcohol, you blame it on the way Aki’s too easy to open up to, you blame it on the way his body is so welcoming and relaxed next to you. Hell, you even blame it on Netflix for having absolutely zero worthwhile anything available to distract you from Aki and blowjobs and thinking of his dick while he’s literally right fucking there. You blame it on Aki’s face, which is clearly a weapon in both seduction and destruction on its own.

Nope, not your fault at all. Never.

And, you know all too well that being tipsy makes you act on things you would otherwise keep locked away in the back of your mind. You wouldn’t have felt this way if you hadn’t felt Aki’s own hot gaze on you when he thought you weren’t looking.

So, here you went.

“Hey, Aki, maybe I could… try it on you?” you smiled, face feeling hot from more than just the alcohol. “Can you teach me how to give a better blowjob? With guidance, you know? I mean, if it’s too weird you can say no.”

Yep. You said it. No take backs now.

“You want me to-” Aki paused, swallowing. And then he looked at you, maybe for a second too long where it felt like he was calculating too many things for one night to have. His cheeks were only a little bit red when he turned the TV off and said “sure, I’ll do my best.”

~

And that’s why you’re here. With Aki. Waiting desperately for him to give you permission to pull down his briefs. It should feel weird, awkward, maybe at least a little bit wrong, but it doesn’t. It’s just you and Aki and the growing heat between your thighs.

“Firstly, you’ve gotta open your mouth,” Aki says, and he reaches out with one hand to cup your jaw, thumbing at your lip. He hasn’t kissed you or anything, simply easing you down to the floor with a pillow to prop yourself up on. You open your lips and let Aki press his thumb in against your tongue, taking in the softness of his skin.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “That’s a good girl.”

You nod, humming. Aki’s voice makes your stomach tighten, the way he calls you a good girl. His fingers feel nice in your mouth, as do the ones threading through your hair, massaging your scalp while you lazily suck. 

“Teach me?” you ask, mouth still full of his fingers.

Aki grips your hair just a tad bit tighter. “That’s what I’m doing, but I need you to be patient for me,” he says, and then “we’re taking it slowly, making sure you know where to touch,” he takes your hand, pressing it to his thigh, “and where to tease,” he says softly, bring your other hand to rest against his erection. You can feel him, so thick and hard beneath the tight fabric. With Aki’s encouragement, you give him a soft rub, just ghosting your fingers over the outline of his bulge, keeping your touch light and without expectation.

“Just like that,” Aki murmurs, and when you glance up at him you can see the blush on his cheeks, eyes heavy. He’s turned on, and there’s something incredibly hot knowing that it’s you doing this to him. Aki’s your friend, yes, but you’d be lying if you said that you’d never been attracted to him.

And you’d be an even bigger liar if you said that asking this of him tonight was purely so you could ‘learn’. 

Aki reaches to pull his briefs down, swatting your hands away as you try to do it for him too hastily. “Slow down, what did I say about being patient?” he says. But your pouting turns to arousal as soon as his cock is out, all for you. Aki’s hard as fuck, his cock incredibly thick and girthy with a nice soft curve that you know would hit all the right places inside you. It’s gorgeous, you think, no, you know. You haven’t seen it before but fuck, you’ve definitely thought about it. At night, when you’re horny and tired and too lazy to look at porn, you’ve wondered what Aki’s cock would look like, feel like in your hands, your mouth, your pussy.

And from what he’s showing you, Aki doesn’t disappoint. His girthy cock is the most perfect shade of flushed pink that you’ve ever seen.

“Open a bit wider for me, that’s right,” Aki whispers, cock twitching when you say an over exaggerated ‘ahhh’ and stick your tongue out. His hips move forward gently, his cockhead resting against your tongue, dribbling small amounts of sticky precum on to your tastebuds. He tastes good; only slightly musky with a hint of salt. Way better than anyone else you’ve had in your mouth. 

“Aki, gim’ mor-“ you try to say around the cock in your mouth, choking off when Aki thrusts in unexpectedly. You automatically open your mouth wider, adjusting to the sudden fullness that’s about to hit the back of your throat. Aki doesn’t even move, just stays like that while your eyes tear up and you try to just breathe.

“I’m impressed,” he marvels, thumb brushing against your lower lip that’s stretched around him. “Just wanted to test your reflexes, pretty girl. Didn’t expect you to take me in so well,” he smiles, starting to rock his hips back and forth. 

You can’t do anything other than force yourself to relax, mind hazy as Aki’s thick shaft fills your mouth over and over again. You can feel the wetness beginning to grow between your own thighs, your cunt slick with arousal just from having Aki praise you for sucking his cock. It’s embarrassing. But it doesn’t stop you from desperately reaching down to rub at your clothed pussy while you continue to give him head. You need to rub yourself just to relieve some of the pressure that’s building in your aching little cunt.

Aki only pauses for half a second when he sees you do this, watches you hurriedly shove your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties to rub at your throbbing clit, and you know he must like what he sees because you feel his cock twitch hard against your tongue.

“Turned on?” he breathes out, which you both know is obvious from the way you’re getting yourself off so frantically. The sound of your slick folds squelching as you finger yourself is even louder than the gasps Aki lets out when he nudges his cockhead against the back of your throat. You choke every time he does that, eyes watering from the lack of air and from feeling so used , but your hand never stops rubbing your clit. No, you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. The alcohol in your system isn’t even what’s making you so forward, it’s the fact that you’re just so fucking riled up from having Aki in your mouth, fucking your throat. 

Aki’s the reason why your panties are stained with a thick layer of your cream. Aki’s the reason why your pussy is desperately clenching around your fingers, pulling them further into your wet heat. Aki’s the reason why you’ve become such a shameful slut who can’t stop touching herself the moment she gets a taste of her best friend's dick.

“See, baby?” he whispers, pumping his cock deeper into your mouth, “you already know how to give a good blowjob, look at you, showing me just how horny you get from letting me use your mouth.” Aki murmurs all this while stroking your hair, his fingers in your scalp so he can hold your head still while he rocks into you.

It’s all so much, your own fingers in your cunt and Aki’s cock in your mouth. All of it feels so good and you know Aki’s meant to be teaching you how to suck properly, how to use your tongue, but now you just desperately want to feel his cock inside your pussy. You mewl around his length, stuffed full and barely able to breathe. All you know is you want him to pound you right now. Nothing else matters. 

“Keep playing with your pretty little pussy for me, okay baby? The view I get from here shows me just how much you want this.” 

And fuck, those words do something to you, because the knot in your stomach grows and you desperately add another finger into your cunt, twisting and rubbing against your sweet spot.

It’s not enough.

You pull back off Aki’s cock for a gasp of air. “Aki-” you breathe, spit soaked lips sore as you speak, “m’ fingers aren’t enough, need more, need you,” you sob. “I wanted to make you cum with my mouth but, I need- just, I need your cock-” you choke off. And it’s embarrassing how needy you are in this moment, but you don’t feel any of it when you’re this aroused. 

Aki grips your chin, soft but firm. “You need me to fuck this princess cunt of yours to make you happy? You want it that bad that you can’t hold out any longer?” you nod in response, still rubbing softly at your own swollen clit. Aki bites his lip, stroking your jaw, and says “Well, I guess you deserve it, since you’ve been such a good girl for me, taking my cock as deep as you can down that pretty throat.”

“Fuck, Aki, please yes that’s what I-.”

It all happens so quickly after that. You don’t get the chance to even say anything before Aki’s picking you up by the waist and urging you onto the couch, spreading your body out on the cushions while he looms above you. Your mouth is still wet with his precum, but Aki leans down to kiss you anyway. He presses his lips against yours for the first time, groaning softly into your mouth while he rocks his leaking cock against your bare thigh. It’s a stark difference to the control he had before when he was fucking your mouth, he’d been easy to talk no matter how deep you took him in, only letting out small gasps every now and then. But now? Aki’s moaning, soft little choked back noises just from kissing you. It’s hotter than it should be, and your only response is to wrap your arms around his back and pull him in for more.

Any other time you’d want to indulge Aki with more kisses, but now you just need him inside you. 

“Aki,” you murmur against his lips, “need you to stretch me out. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

“You’re still so impatient,” he says, strong hands parting your thighs and pulling your soaked panties down to your ankles. “And you’re this fucking wet from just taking me in your mouth?” he says, swiping a finger through your slick folds, brushing your swollen clit and making you shiver. Your pussy is fully exposed like this, skirt hiked up high above your stomach while Aki settles between your legs, his length pressed up against your soaked pussy. You’re both leaking, and you honestly can’t tell if it’s your own wetness or Aki’s precum that’s making the squelching sounds when his cockhead slaps against your fluttering entrance.

There’s only a fraction of hesitation, Aki looking down at you with heavy eyes, “are you sure?” he asks, and “oh my god Aki, fucking yes,” you tell him. You’re really fucking sure because if he doesn’t keep going, you’re going to explode.

And then he’s pressing in. No prep. You’re so wet that you don’t even need his tongue or fingers to ease the stretch from his cock. Aki’s kissing you while he slowly enters you, giving you time to adjust to the slight sting of the stretch. “You’re doing so well, such a good girl for me,” he whispers, moving down to kiss your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin there. “Knew you’d end up with more than just sucking my cock, you wanted this,” he finishes, bottoming out with his length fully stuffed inside your cunt. 

You gasp, whimpering into Aki’s shoulder while he nudges his cockhead against your sweet spot. “You knew? I didn’t- fuck, I didn’t plan it like this,” you choke out. The pleasure is hitting you harder now. This isn’t your fingers inside of you, this is Aki . And he’s pretty and strong and gorgeous and seemingly already knows how you like the shallow thrusts against your g-spot. “A-Aki,” you stutter, your body writhing against his while he fills you over and over again.

“You hoped for it though, didn’t you?” he murmurs, slow, shallow thrusts that stretch your tight walls around his length. The sensation is intoxicating for both of you, and your mind goes blank at the sound of his deep voice. Yes. He’s right. You wanted this, Aki fucking you, hidden behind some flimsy pretense of teaching you how to suck him off. He knows, you know, and now you can’t shy away from his lips against your own. You nod into him because there’s no point denying it now. He’s your best friend and he knows you.

Aki kisses you like he’s been waiting for years. And he has been waiting for years. It’s all tongue and teeth while he pounds your pussy hard and god you’re a mess. All you can get out is a gasping “I think I’m gonna cum, Aki, please, I need it rougher,” with your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head when he fucks you harder. You almost cry when the head of his cock bumps your cervix, it’s a mix of sharp pleasure and pain and you love it, your pussy letting out small squirts each time he rams into your cervix. Your hands curl against the fabric of the couch, trying to find some sense of stability while your body is getting pushed to the limit. You’re not even drunk from the alcohol anymore, just all love drunk from Aki’s perfect cock. 

You’re about to warn him, but Aki gets in before you, his voice raspy in your ear while he thrusts into you. “Yeah you’re close aren’t you, baby? I can feel your pretty little cunt clenching around me, so fucking tight for me even after everything I’ve given you.” And his words only make you tighten even more, your walls clinging to his shaft as you start to reach your peak. You cry out, moaning his name pathetically. All you feel is the warmth from Aki’s cock abusing your sweet spot over and over again, distantly, his voice saying “cum on my cock princess, yeah, that’s my good fucking girl,” and the sound of squelching while Aki fucks your gushing heat through the waves of pleasure. Even when you’re coming down, struggling to breathe, Aki keeps fucking you through the last of the contractions, making you twitch as your poor abused pussy gets overstimulated.

Your heart is racing and you’re entirely fucked out but Aki’s still hard, and more importantly, he’s still inside of you. He’s slowed down though, you’re aware of that much. You’re aware of how only the head of his cock is in your entrance and he’s littering kisses across your collarbone while he waits for you to come back to him.

“Was I too rough on you?” Aki speaks into your skin softly. He sounds almost apologetic, lazily thrusting into your heat while you hold onto his broad shoulders.

“No, s’ good, Aki. Felt so good,” you slur, breath hitching when Aki thrusts a little bit harder into you. “Want you to cum inside me, please Aki,” you pout with whatever sliver of energy you have left, and you’re well aware that he’s waiting for you to give him permission to keep going. As rough as he’s been, and as much as he’s pushed you tonight, you know that if you say you’re too tired, he’ll happily pull off of you and go finish himself off in the bathroom. You don’t want that though. Definitely not tonight.

“Yeah?” Aki nibbles at your throat, breath hot on your skin. “You want me to fill you up?” he asks, reaching down to swipe his thumb over your sensitive clit. He’s pumping into you steadily, and having his cock rubbing up against your g-spot while his fingers play with your small bundle of nerves is just too much. You can feel the heat building rapidly in your belly again and you almost want to sob. “I know, I know, but you’ve done so well, just one more for me,” Aki coos, kissing the wetness leaking out the corners of your eyes, and tells you “I really wanna stuff your princess cunt full of my cum, n’ I know you can take it for me, baby,” while he fucks you steady, urging you even closer than before.

“ Oh, fuck - yes, please, need it so bad,” you whimper, your second orgasm hitting you just as hard as the first. Aki’s words draw it out of you, your gushing pussy clenching around his cock while he groans and fucks into you harder, even rougher than before, pumping you full of thick cum. You love the soft moans he makes, but you love it more when he collapses on top of you, pressing his lips into yours and lazily kissing you while his cock slowly softens inside you. You feel full. And when Aki finally pulls out, still trailing kisses and little bites down your throat, you wince at the feeling of his seed leaking from your puffy entrance. 

You’re an absolute mess, and so is the couch.

“C’mere,” Aki says, tugging you up into a sitting position before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. You’re still dazed, and watching Aki move around the room to grab you a towel and some tissues is all too much for you. When he finally sits back down, he’s spreading your legs to wipe away  the sticky mess leaking from between your thighs. “I’ve wanted to do that for years, you know,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry, I kinda went all out tonight after you asked me to, you know- I didn’t know if I’d get the chance-”

You stop him, reaching out to hold his forearm and keep him steady for the first time tonight. You know you need to say it. “I’ve wanted this too, Aki. I mean, that is why I asked if I could blow you,” you laugh. You want him to know the truth, and you want to lighten the tension he’s holding over himself. Your chest clenches when he cracks a rare smile at you. You can't hold yourself back from tugging him into a tight hug, holding him so close that you can feel his heart beating against your own.

Aki’s so pretty. He’s always been so pretty. And now that you know what he tastes like, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop yourself from needing him. Wanting him. They’re the same thing in your world.

Aki sighs and leans in to your touch, pressing one last kiss to your lips. “Shower? I think we both need to clean up a bit, and I promise I won’t try to make you cum again once we’re in there.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you smile. You feel so warm, being held by Aki. Your body feels wrecked but god, it was so worth it.