#so anything they are okay with doing they let us do

[sugusatosluut]

Overworked and Overstimulated

Synopsis: You take on every job Cecil hands you as his overachieving daughter, but what could be more relaxing after work than getting high with your friends?

Warnings: Edibles, smut, threesome! MDNI💓

You returned back to the guardian’s hq, exhaustedly ripping your mask off of your head. Your father called you on four missions back to back because he had already sent the new guardians and invincible to space. You wanted to go sooooo bad, but he found it better for you to sit this one out. Coincidentally upon returning back, you had found out that they all made it back a few days ago and Cecil wanted you to handle everything until most of them recovered. Easier said than done. Usually it was about six life threatening issues a day, but to tackle four of the worst ones in one day was just a little too much.

You showered, then went up to your room. Dimming the lights, you changed and turned on your music as you took out a pot brownie. You deserved this, you worked too damn hard not to. Stupid GDA invested father using you as a machine.. but he was your dad and sometimes it was your fault for biting off more than you could chew. Typical of you to not say something yet act out when you’re overstimulated. Just typical.

As you got comfortable in your little room, Mark and Rex knocked at your door. What a surprise, they never approach you unless they need help, so maybe now’s not a good time to get high.

“Yo, y/n! Good job holding down the fort until we came back. I see the world’s got a new favorite nepo baby.” Rex chuckled as he grabbed a chair.

“C’mon Rex you know she doesn’t like that.” Mark nudged his shoulder.

“Sorry.. sometimes the social awareness just doesn’t que up fast enough in my brain. Anyways, whatcha doin? Taking the night off?” Rex asked as he played with the items on your desk.

“Yeah, my dad gave me four of the worst missions today. Just figured I’d mellow out in my room for the rest of the day.” You sighed.

“With a pot brownie?” Mark asked sitting in the edge of your bed and holding the ziploc bag containing your brownies.

“Uh-y-yeah. Well I was gonna wait til you guys left in case you didn’t need me for anything but this seemed important so I couldn’t eat one right this second.” You said nervously.

“Fuck that, this is your free time.. Mark and I have been off for a while. Let’s say we make this a group trip huh? I’ll pay you back for it later.” Rex said taking the brownies from Mark.

“I’m down, you don’t have to pay me back though Sloan. I’m content with this. Just quality time with my friends.” You said relaxing back in your bed.

You, Mark and Rex all ate a brownie, waiting for the effects to kick in.

About an hour later you were all feeling the effects. You had put some dumb chick flick on and both men were entertained. It was quiet. Mark was shirtless, with an arm wrapped around you and Rex was also shirtless laying on your chest. Before the high had kicked in you guys gave mark money to get snacks and he delivered. As you guys watched the movie, all that could be heard was the crunching of chips. Both of their bodies were keeping you extremely warm. The movie ended and all three of you were wondering what to do next.

“Basketball?” Rex offered.

“Let’s go. Me and you Rex.” Mark smirked at him.

The three of you went down into the HQ training center. Both boys were shooting hoops.

“This is boring, can we find a way to make it interesting?” Mark asked.

“Ask and you shall recieve. First one to score five shots wins a kiss from the pretty lady over there— and don’t tell me you’re not dying for a taste of that. The best things in life are things that you aren’t allowed to have.” Rex winked.

“I can reason with that as long as it’s okay with y/n.” Mark asked.

“We’ll— I don’t wanna sound desperate but I mean it’s perfectly fine with me.” You blushed. You were in fact the most desperate for this. The past flirtations between you and Mark and then you and Rex throughout your time at the GDA always got to you. Your dad always steered them both away.. well not just them, everyone—away. Mark and Rex didn’t really care, they were friends to the end. They stood up to Cecil which finally allowed you to go on missions, but Cecil drew the line at space. The old man knew better than to get between you and your friends. Yes, you loved your dad but there’s always a battle to be fought with him.

“You’re on.” Mark smirked.

Both boys played away and suddenly the score went from one to four. It was the final point for each of them.

“This one’s for you!” They both shouted together. The anticipation guided you to insanity. If Rex scored and mark felt jealous? It would ruin you. If Mark scored and Rex feel jealous? God.. it’s too much to handle. It’s okay to change your mind and everything, the boys would understand. You don’t want one without the other.

“Well looks like we’re both getting kissed. Both our baskets were made.” Mark smiled smugly.

How did you miss it? Oh well. You weren’t kissing them in the middle of the guardians hq, that would be an awkward moment you couldn’t come back from. The boys held their excitement until you all made it back to your room. Now it was really awkward for you.

“I know I’ve only gotten high with you guys once before but holy shit you look like you’re in a real predicament right now y/n.” Mark laughed.

Rex joined in on laughing, both of them were laughing a bit too hard, it was a little too contagious.

“You’re right, she’s as red as a fucking ripe ass tomato!” Rex was wheezing at this point. The laughter coming from your room was intense and anybody coming by your room could tell you were having a fun time.

You started laughing along with them and soon the laughing turned to joyous tears from your stomachs hurting so bad. After all the laughing, you rested your head on Mark’s shoulder again as you all made it back to laying on your giant bed that took up most of the room in your little box. Mark scooted you, letting you in between his legs as your back touched his chest. Mark played with your hair and Rex was up to something mischevious. Rex snuck himself under the covers, pulling down your lace panties and your pajama pants. You would have been way more alarmed in any other circumstance but for this one? You felt so at peace with both of them doing what they wanted to you. It was the best stress relief you had in a while.

Mark’s hands reached for your shirt, lifting it up off your body and kissing the back of your neck. As Rex started to eat you out your body started to tingle with numbness. The high was really intensifying all your senses. Rex’s tongue lapped and licked your little bud under the covers. To ease you, Mark grabbed onto your breasts, kneading them and kissing your neck. Rex’s grip on your hips stayed firm.

“I thought you both wanted a kiss.” You whined.

“We did, the high just feels too nice to waste on a little kiss. You getting overstimulated? I can tell by the way you’re squirming. Quit acting out.” Mark said firmly as his hands shifted positions, as one arm was now around your neck.

You whined and groaned until you started getting close, both boys were naked at this point, the temperature in the room getting hotter, the feelings more intense.. both boys were slipping in and out of you roughly as you were still whining, eventually the three of you would finish at the same time. You all hit the showers and you went back to your room in silence. Your body was now tired.

“Hey- uh.. thanks for that. If you ever wanna use me I left my number on your board.” Rex winked at you before deciding to leave.

“Leaving so soon?” You asked.

“Yeah.. unfortunately you’re not the only girl on my roster sweet cheeks.” He whistled.

“Alright, see you around.” You waved.

Well at least Rex admitted to wanting a late night booty call.

Mark walked into your room timidly.

“You leaving too?” You pouted.

“Oh stop pouting. I got you flowers. I wanna stay and cuddle. I was in space for five days I thought you’d miss me a little more.” He said.

“Now look who’s pouting.” You smirked.

Mark came into your room placing the flowers on your nightstand and laying down on top of you, his body weight giving you the utmost relief.

“I don’t want to share you again. That was a one time deal.” He complained.

“I understand, thank you for letting me experience that.” You smiled at him.

The room seemed to go quiet, you eyes started to shut and mark had one last thing on his mind.

“When are you gonna tell your dad about us?”

“Mark— go to sleep.”

[moonstruckme]

Mae I am politely begging you for a hurt/comfort sickfic (specifically the food poisoning after a bbq because I totally don’t have something like that right now 😵‍💫) from that prompt for poly!wolfstar or marauders pleaseeeee pretty😭

Oof sorry you had to deal with that babe! Thanks for your request

cw: vomit, not entirely vague descriptions of vomit either so please be careful with yourself if that’s a trigger for you

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 606 words

“I’m so sorry,” says Remus, his hand wearing a path between your shoulder blades as you bend over the toilet.

You cough. Saliva strings embarrassingly from your mouth. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, it is,” Sirius says, though he kisses Remus’ cheek in apology.

“I know.” Remus manages to sound more miserable than you feel. You set a hand on his knee. It's the best you can do for comfort at the moment.

He squeezes it as though you aren’t the most disgusting creature alive, so it’s a fair trade.

“Do you want a tissue?” he asks softly.

“Yes, please.”

You’ve been sick on and off for hours. You don’t know how it keeps coming on so violently, but it's bad enough that you have to blow your nose every now and then to get rid of the excess. Your stomach is a wreck, sore and overworked to the point that you’ve begun shaking with exertion every time you have to lean over the toilet again. All brought on by some seemingly undercooked ribs Remus made for your barbeque yesterday. Your boyfriends have spent last night and most of today sitting vigil with you on the bathroom rug.

After you discard your tissue, your stomach makes a loud noise of upset and you bend, groaning.

“This is so humiliating.”

“There’s nothing humiliating about needing some help from your very loving boyfriends,” Sirius chides you lightly, standing up to refill your cup of water. “What else are we good for?”

“Don’t answer that,” Remus murmurs. He smiles when you chuckle weakly. It’s worth the brief ache in your abdomen.

“I can hear you conspiring,” Sirius hums as he crouches back by your side. “Do you think you’re done being sick for now?”

You nod, taking the water from him. It feels pleasant and cool on your throat.

“Slow, love,” Remus reminds you. You listen, taking smaller sips until the cup is empty.

You take a breath, relieved when your nausea doesn’t immediately worsen. Your eyes fall on Sirius.

He squints playfully. “What?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t hm me. You want something.”

You look at him through your lashes, sheepish. “Could you do that thing again?”

Only Sirius could make a scoff sound so fond. “You only ever have to ask, sweetness.” He moves closer behind you, nudging one of Remus’ legs out of the way. “Scoot, perpetrator.”

Remus does scoot, and though you shoot him an apologetic look you can’t bring yourself to regret your request when Sirius settles his hands surely over your middle. He pushes gently on the softest part of your stomach. An involuntary whimper rises in your throat.

Sirius tsks softly. “Okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s nice.”

He chuckles. “That’s okay, baby.”

You let yourself go lax for a while, Sirius all but holding you up as he pushes and prods at your tormented abdomen. Sighs and the occasional whimper float past your lips. When you crack your eyelids, Remus is nearly asleep with his back against the wall.

“Sorry for making you guys stay here,” you mumble. Hesitant to disturb the peace, but it has to be said.

Remus speaks without opening his eyes. “You’re not making us do anything, lovely. It’s not your fault my ribs were bad.”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I’m the only one who got sick, maybe it wasn’t even them.”

Sirius hums. “Not quite true.”

You and Remus both look at him questioningly.

“James said Reg started feeling queasy this morning.”

“Oh, god.” Remus drops his head to his knees. “I’m sorry.”

Sirius reaches for Remus’ hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You are lucky you’re so cute.”

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag XVII

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, mentions of violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, semi public sex,  jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

You hadn’t seen nor talked to JJ in three weeks.

That hadn’t been your goal, having every intention of seeing him again after that day at The Wreck—even if only to officially break it off between you. Things hadn’t worked out that way though and before you knew it, a week went by and then another and another. It was a combination of things really—Rafe being around a lot more above all else—but you also didn’t think you had it in you to look JJ in the eyes and reject him again.

The day at The Wreck had been hard enough, and you’d only succeeded then because you were so overwhelmed by Kie’s words, desperate to get away and think. She hadn’t said anything untrue, anything wrong, and that’s what made her words sting the most. Sure, JJ talked a big game about figuring out a way to safely get you away from Rafe…but in practice…? You’d been with Rafe for over two years and still hadn’t been able to come up with a scenario that wouldn’t come back to bite you.

JJ wanted to save you, and you wanted to let him, but it was unrealistic. The only chance you had would be to move halfway across the world and even then… Rafe could be scarily determined to see something through, and it wasn’t like he lacked the means and resources to simply follow you. He hated to lose.

Sometimes you wondered if JJ really understood just how dangerous Rafe was.

…or if he simply enjoyed sneaking around with his girlfriend more.

Such a thought seemed so unfair to you—especially since there was no doubt in your mind that JJ cared about you—but you’d told him the same thing before all of this even started. You’d had no problem telling him that you dating Rafe Cameron had a hand in his aggressive pursuit of you. You still believed that actually, and it wasn’t like you minded all that much because you were getting something out of this too and JJ was making you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time.

…but Kie was right.

She was so right. You either had to leave Rafe or put an end to your ‘relationship’ with JJ. Anything outside of that wasn’t up for consideration, and between you and JJ, only one of you had what it took to do the right—and smart—thing. So, you hadn’t seen JJ in weeks…and it hurt.

You didn’t know why, but you hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

This person who had become this cliche bright light in an otherwise dark life was no longer there. You didn’t look forward to the following day anymore nor anticipate hearing from someone who never failed to put a smile on your face. The nights that Rafe spent with his father or at home were no longer filled with a familiar presence to keep you company. When Rafe left the other side of your bed empty…it stayed that way.

…and against your will, you found yourself crying a lot more these days.

“Sweetheart, you really need to get more sleep,” your mother cooed as she gently touched your face. “Everything okay…?”

You nodded at her as you stirred your creamer into your coffee.

“Yeah,” you assured her. “Just having trouble sleeping lately.”

She hummed at that, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m going to give you something for that,” she told you, rubbing your shoulder. “...and something for those bags under your eyes too. It’s making you look ill.”

You didn’t have a response for that other than a soft ‘thanks’. She hummed at you before your father pulled her attention away, both of them getting caught up in a conversation about the broken garbage disposal. Their voices faded to the background as you continued to stir your coffee, even when it had long blended into an even toffee color. You only stopped when your name was called.

Your parents were looking at you expectantly when you glanced up.

“Sorry?”

Your mother chuckled, albeit throwing you an odd look while doing so.

“I said you’ve gotten a dress for Rafe’s party, right? It’s the big twenty-one, and you can’t go wearing something you already have,” she said, sounding like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

You swallowed at the mention of his birthday, unable to forget about its approach even if you wanted to.

“Rafe bought a dress for me months ago.”

Your mother’s smile made your stomach turn.

“Of course, he did,” she commented, gently squeezing your arm. “He’s always so sweet to you.”

You weren’t able to keep looking at her as a fondness settled on her features as she thought about your relationship.

“I’d ask to see it, but I want to be surprised, and plus he never disappoints,” she chuckled. “He always knows just what to pick, and you look so radiant every time.”

Her parting words made you sigh, and for the umpteenth time, you imagined how they’d react if they ever knew the true nature of your relationship with Rafe. They doted on him because he seemingly doted on you. Like any decent parents, they were skeptical of him until he proved himself, and now years later—after he’d long started putting his hands on you—they still thought you two were the best thing to ever happen to each other.

If they knew the truth, you had no doubt it would break their hearts for more reasons than one.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised to see you…”

Sarah’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you were forced to pull your gaze away from the picture they had on the wall. You didn’t doubt that it was some piece Rose had brought into the house.

“It’s Rafe’s birthday, so, of course you’re going to be here, but I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks…”

She hadn’t seen you in weeks, and just like with JJ, it hadn’t been intentional, but you still felt bad. In an effort to distance yourself from the younger blond, you’d pulled away from anything that had to do with him. You didn’t know if you just didn’t want to chance seeing him or hearing about him, but that had included making yourself scarce around Sarah too. Considering that you were dating her brother, it was almost an impressive feat.

“Are you okay? Because as I’m saying this I realize it has been weeks since I’ve seen you, and when Pope asked about you the other day, I realized I couldn’t tell him how you were because I don’t know myself.”

You didn’t know how to respond, unable to tell Sarah that you felt like you were constantly outside of your own body, experiencing everything indirectly since you’d unofficially broken things off with one of her best friends. You missed him—more than you thought you would—and you were back to the reality of what your life was like—and would forever be like—without JJ in it.

So, you simply said:

“I’m fine.”

Sarah didn’t look like she believed you, and you watched as she pulled her lip between her teeth.

“None of us did anything, right?” you were already shaking your head. “...because everything seemed fine and then-.”

“No, of course not,” you said with a light chuckle, trying to reassure her. “It’s just stuff at home that I’ve been handling. Nothing serious, but it’s kept me really busy lately.”

The younger girl slowly nodded at that, still looking unsure.

“If you say so,” she commented. “We’re still down whenever you can pull yourself away.”

It was a very basic gesture, but it both warmed your heart and made your stomach sink. You knew that you’d either have to man up and face the possibility of running into JJ despite the fact that you were now over, or tell Sarah you didn’t want to be friends anymore, and the latter you couldn’t ever bring yourself to do. You enjoyed being around her and her friends, and one could argue that you should be taking advantage of your new free time now that you were no longer seeing JJ.

…but the thought of facing him so soon after essentially ghosting him made your chest hurt. You were self aware enough to admit that you didn't think you were strong enough to face him and walk away again. With JJ out of the picture, you were quickly reminded of just how awful your life was before he decided to kiss you that night, and it was so easy to just let yourself go back to what made you happy.

You were afraid that your resolve would crumble with just one look.

How easy it would be to tell yourself that you deserved this and that your relationship with Rafe was hardly a relationship, at all. It wasn’t a hard argument to make either. Rafe had beat you and threatened to kill you and even put you into the hospital. Anyone in their right mind wouldn’t blame you for what you’d done, but it wasn’t just a matter of right and wrong and who considers what's classified as either of those things.

Rafe would kill you.

That was something you knew for a fact. He’d threatened to do so on several occasions, but you knew that if Rafe ever found out about you and JJ—even in a sense of past tense—there would be nothing to talk about. He would kill you and more than likely JJ too. Sneaking around with JJ just for the hell of it—with no actual foolproof plan to safely get away from Rafe for good—was a death wish.

It was beyond foolish, unfair to JJ, and dangerous for you both.

It was why you greeted Rafe with a gentle smile when he finally found you some time later, reaching for you and threading his fingers through yours. Keeping him happy would keep you safe. You knew that, and somewhere along the way, you’d gotten comfortable and allowed JJ to make you forget that. Your only viable options were Rafe…or death, and anything in between was just a longer and complicated way to achieve the latter.

“I figured I’d find you gossiping with Sarah,” he drawled, tone light-hearted.

You attributed his good mood to this day—and party—being entirely focused on him. You smoothed down the eggshell dress he bought for you, relieved that it was still blemish free. You grimaced as you recalled the last dress you’d spilled some wine on while attending yet another party his parents had thrown.

Rafe took note of the action, and he paused to admire you.

You watched as his blue eyes roamed over your frame, drinking in everything from your perfectly styled hair to the baby pink polish on your toes. The house held that moderate hum that came with a full guest list, but Rafe was entirely focused on you. It felt like one of those rare moments when he was genuinely happy with you, and the look on his face was reminiscent of when you both were eighteen and in love and he was sweeping you off of your feet.

Rafe moved closer and fingered an errant piece of hair before putting it back in place.​​ That seemed to satisfy him, and you watched as the corner of his lips curved upwards just the slightest. His fingers fell to your chin where he gently grazed your skin, and Rafe straightened, looking you over again.

“You look perfect.”

The way in which he said it broke the spell, and suddenly the look in his eyes was so clear. You felt shiny all of a sudden—metallic and heavy and like you belonged on a shelf. Your heart sank, and you didn’t know why because you knew that. You’d long accepted that to Rafe, you were some prize, molded perfectly into his ideal girlfriend who would never dare leave him or speak out against him, and who’d be his support no matter what.

For a split second, you’d really forgotten that, and you gave him a small smile.

“I’m wearing a perfect dress.”

Rafe only smiled at that before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, pulling you along.

Everyone was moving outside to cut the cake and lavish Rafe with even more attention. You held his hand tight as they did, playing your role and thinking about the many years to come in which you’d have to do this. You’d long resigned yourself to it, but for some reason it was getting to you today more than usual. Perhaps it was because you could see it.

All over their faces.

They all looked at you and Rafe with such fondness and hope and happiness. They saw Ward Cameron’s only son with your father’s only daughter and pictured the future generations of Figure 8 and who would start it. They looked at you two and saw two sons and two daughters and a white picket fence and maybe even a dog. It caused a shiver to travel down your spine, and just when you considered excusing yourself, your boyfriend spoke.

Everyone quieted down as he gently tapped a glass, and you were forced to remain exactly where you were.

Rafe stared into the glass for a moment before leisurely setting it aside. You knew that this was his typical speech in which he thanked everyone for coming and showed endless gratitude to Ward and even briefly mentioned you, but there was a look that passed over his face that you couldn’t name. He looked happy—as expected—but there was a hint of haughtiness in that smile.

“I’m thankful that all of you came to support my family and I to not only celebrate my birthday, but to usher in this new era as I officially join my father’s business as well…”

Hums of appreciation and congratulations reached your ears, and you threw Rafe a smile when he glanced at you.

“I pretty much have everything I want, so…” he waved his hand around. “...gifts and all that typically don’t mean anything to me at this age.”

You kept your eyes on him, wondering what direction this speech was going in.

“However…” Rafe’s smile grew. “There is one gift I’m hoping my wonderful girlfriend will give to me…”

The gasps and commotion around you sounded more horrifying to your ears than exciting as Rafe turned to you and lowered himself to the ground. He was on one knee and reaching into his pocket, and despite the fact that you knew what that meant, you were in complete denial—frozen where you stood—up until he said the words.

“...by telling me ‘yes’ when I ask her to marry me.”

You heard your mother cry out behind you, and if there was any thought that she knew about this, it was quickly gone. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Rose covering her mouth in excitement, and you wanted to look around to see if anyone felt as horrified as you felt, but you knew the answer.

If you dared to look around, everyone would be smiling and looking on in awe and anticipation as they watched Rafe Cameron propose to you. You were sure that if you were met with the sight, it would terrify you, making you feel like you were knee deep in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You glanced up anyway, and only confirmed your suspicions, and you had the sudden urge to cry.

Why was everyone so happy? Why wasn’t anyone else petrified?

It took you an embarrassingly long time to realize it was because no one else knew. No one else knew that Rafe choked you when he felt you were getting too smart with him. No one else knew that the man on one knee before you was also the very same to break your nose and put you in the hospital. No one knew that the man proposing to you had once put the barrel of a gun in your mouth and threatened to kill you.

None of them knew that, and the one person who did didn’t look nearly as horrified as you felt.

You felt like you’d been in your head forever, but in reality, it was probably only a few seconds. Rafe was still knelt before you with that haughty smile and satisfied gleam in his eye, and you knew it was because he knew he’d won. You wouldn’t dare tell him no in front of your families and their friends and put a crack in the perfect picture you two had created.

The ring was a marquise solitaire with a yellow gold band, and if you were guessing correctly, you knew it was at least 3 carats. Tears spilled over as you looked at it, recalling a time where you’d told Rafe that was your dream engagement ring, but that was back then when Rafe was your dream man, and you were in your dream relationship. Both him and the relationship were a nightmare, now, and being presented with that ring of all rings made you sob.

When those blue eyes of his dimmed just a tad, in an effort to protect yourself, your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up, desperately telling him what you knew he wanted to hear.

“Yes.”

The word came out of your mouth and was said in your voice, but you didn’t approve of it, and you broke down again as cheers erupted from around you. Your vision was blurry as Rafe slid the ring onto your finger—a perfect fit—and he was quick to stand and pull you against him. Someone was loudly crying, and it sounded a lot like your mother, but the both of you were crying for entirely different reasons.

Rafe wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your hair as he rocked you both from side to side. You could feel yourselves being closed in on, everyone wanting to come and personally congratulate you, and you shrunk in on yourself, wanting to be as far away from here as possible.

Rafe’s lips grazed your ear.

“You just made me the happiest man on earth.”

You turned away from your bruised reflection, thinking that the evolution of your relationship seemed to bring out a side of Rafe that even scared him a little. You thought that he couldn’t keep his hands off of you before, but it was nothing in comparison to now that he could call you his fiancee. It rolled off of his tongue whenever he was inside of you, and it made it impossible to disassociate and try not to live in the moment of what your life had become.

You didn’t know if he was excited because he was so close to tying you to him forever, or if the ring on your finger increased the sense of ownership that he felt he had over you, but too many times had Rafe left you a little more battered and bruised every time he got you into bed as of late. Thinking about the harsh feel of his teeth on your back only days ago brought tears to your eyes, and you reminded yourself that you knew the trajectory of this journey the day you lied to the police.

After the successful proposal, the party had gone on for another two hours, every individual guest wanting their own solo moment to congratulate the happy couple. Rose and your mother endlessly fawned over the ring, and when you finally got a moment alone with your father, you discovered that he’d known for weeks.

After all, it was weeks ago that Rafe had formally asked for his permission.

“I don’t think any man will ever be good enough for you,” he’d said. “...but he treats you right and respected me enough to come to me.”

The tears in your normally stoic father’s eyes only served to remind you that everyone else was living in an entirely different reality with an alternate version of your relationship. You were feeling more trapped and cornered than ever, and everyone else around you was…elated.

All except one.

“Oh my God,” Sarah had said the moment she'd been able to get a moment with you.

She took your hand and just stared at the ring, and you hadn’t needed to be a genius to know that she wasn’t as over the moon as everyone else. It was all over her face, but despite that, she attempted to be happy for you, and you appreciated the gesture.

“You’re getting married,” she breathed. “To my brother.”

You’d pulled your hand away, swallowing, and beyond all of the overwhelming emotions you were feeling, you still remembered someone whose face you hadn’t seen in weeks.

“Can you…can you not tell anyone else, please?”

She’d looked at you like you were crazy, an incredulous scoff escaping her.

“All of Figure 8 will know by tomorrow morning, you can’t be serious,” she shook her head at you with wide and confused eyes.

“Yes, but we both knew there isn’t really anyone from this side of the island you could possibly tell…”

Sarah seemed to understand that you didn’t want her friends knowing, and although you could see she wanted to know why, she eventually nodded.

“...okay. Sure,” she whispered, tilting her head at you. “Are you happy?”

You had opened and closed your mouth, prepared to lie when she continued.

“You just…don’t seem all that happy.”

“Of course, I am,” you’d said with a deep breath. “Rafe and I are getting married. Why wouldn’t I be?”

It was a loaded question, one you hoped you would never have to answer honestly.

With the heaviness of the ring on your finger and Rafe’s suffocating presence and your mother’s choking enthusiasm about the eventual wedding, you took full advantage the next time Rafe and Ward went out of town, telling Sarah you’d love to come over and hang out with her and Cleo and Kie. You desperately needed a break from the constant reminder that the rest of your life was about to begin.

You had left the ring in your bedroom because you just wanted one night without thinking about it, but you appreciated your decision all the more when the boys had unexpectedly shown up. Nevermind the fact that you weren’t quite ready to face JJ, but you really weren't ready to face him with a huge rock on your finger, and the words on your tongue explaining to him what it meant.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Cleo had half heartedly apologized when she answered the door, pressing a kiss to Pope’s cheek. “...but the house is empty, yeah?”

It was true.

Wheezie was staying with a friend and Rose was on an overnight girls’ trip. You couldn’t even find it in you to be nervous about being around the guys with Rafe none the wiser. You were at his house, and it would take nothing to just drive home, but most importantly, oddly enough, you were more concerned with being face to face with JJ again, at the moment.

Like a coward, you were unable to look him in the eye when you heard his voice for the first time in a month, and you were thankful that too much was going on for your uncharacteristic silence to be noticeable. You felt his gaze on you though, goosebumps erupting over your skin and feeling much hotter, but your eyes remained on your lap.

You only looked up just in time to see him brush past Kie to find a seat, and your brows furrowed as you looked between them. You had never known JJ to be cold, it just wasn’t like him, but there was no doubt about it that he was giving Kie the cold shoulder. The dark-haired girl saw your frown, and she merely shook her head.

“I feel like we haven’t seen you in years,” Pope said to you, reaching out for a high-five.

“Sure feels that way, don’t it.”

JJ’s comment made you grimace, and when you dared to look over at him, his gaze was already on you.

Coming face to face with him after what felt like forever made your heart skip a beat, and you struggled to look away.

“Sorry,” you eventually apologized to Pope, ignoring JJ’s comment. “Rafe and family stuff just took up so much time.”

He waved off your apology, assuring you that he was joking, but you knew that JJ wasn’t, and when the blond got up to get a drink, you impulsively followed. The rest of them—sans Kie—were none the wiser, and you briefly glanced over your shoulder before going into the kitchen. JJ was standing in the fridge, and it was only hitting you in that moment that you hadn’t seen nor talked to him in weeks.

You already knew that you missed him, but it was hitting you much harder as you stood so close to him while being unable to touch him. He looked like he was doing okay, and his hair was just as blond, and when he straightened, you were reminded of what it felt like to have those arms wrapped around you. You missed the feeling, and you missed running your hands through his hair and falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat whenever you had the chance.

In this moment, it was very hard to remember why you had left him. However, you reminded yourself that you hadn’t followed him to talk about you two. There was no ‘you two’ anymore.

There was just you, and there was just JJ.

“Why are you treating Kie like that?”

JJ didn’t respond at first, merely turning to you and staring you down for a few moments before a mocking smirk graced his pink lips.

“That’s all you have to say to me…?”

You didn’t respond to that, and when it became clear that you simply wouldn’t, JJ scoffed. He shook his head, opening a beer that was meant for Ward, no doubt, before leaning his back against the counter.

“You know why,” was what he said with a straight face.

Now, it was your turn to scoff.

“It’s not her fault,” you defended, continuing when he started to shake his head. “She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, anything that we didn’t already know. We were just choosing to ignore it.”

“You told me you weren’t going to let what she said get to you. You nodded, you assured me of that, and then I don’t hear from you for a month.”

He’d dropped the cavalier facade, and you could see the anger and hurt passing over his features. 

“You don’t answer my calls, you don’t answer my texts, and if it wasn’t for Sarah, I wouldn’t have even known you were alive.”

“JJ-.”

“We were happy-.”

“We were delusional,” you quietly hissed. “Kie was right. Don’t hate her for something that was inevitable.”

That word seemed to bother JJ, and you watched as his features hardened. Your former lover stared at you for what felt like a long time before glancing away. You watched him press his tongue to the inside of his cheek, and you didn’t like the look he fixed you with.

“Did you forget the deal we made…?”

When you frowned at him, he continued.

“That I would keep quiet about Rafe so long as you let me be there for you?”

You shifted your feet, feeling uncomfortable at the mention of that. You didn’t say anything, not wanting to acknowledge that, but JJ merely nodded with a hum. He took another swig of beer, and you really hated the look he fixed you with then.

“If you’re not going to hold up your end of the deal then why should I hold up mine?”

Your heart sank to your gut at that, and you blinked at JJ in disbelief, unable to believe that even he believed he was capable of what he was insinuating. Not only that, but it was such a cruel thing to even bluff about, and you let out a dry chuckle.

“JJ…that’s… No,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer your question, choosing to gesture to the living room.

“What’s to stop me from pulling Sarah aside and telling her exactly why you hardly have a life outside of your relationship with her brother?”

Your lips parted, and you just stared at him…unable to believe what you were hearing.

“You won’t let me be there for you,” he spat out with a shrug. “...and someone has to be.”

You finally found your voice, and you blinked back tears.

“That’s not your decision to make,” you quietly bit out.

“...and I disagree,” he argued, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head. “We’re not talking about the typical asshole boyfriend here. Your life is in danger every time you’re around him.”

You furiously blinked, looking towards the ceiling.

“As long as he’s happy…I’m safe,” you breathed, lips trembling as you looked at JJ again. “I just have to-.”

“...and when Ward pisses him off again? When you’re not as cold as you should be to some strange man? When he decides Topper was a bit too nice to you? Then what?”

JJ moved closer with every question, a sneer on his lips as he stared you down.

“There’s no way to keep a guy like that happy.”

You flinched, leaning away from JJ as he leaned in. He looked between your tearful eyes, and while yes he was angry and hurt over how you decided to end things, you could see clear as day that JJ was also scared. He was scared for you and whatever future was available to you now that you’d decided to completely submit to Rafe and what he wanted for you both.

His face softened the longer he stared at you, and just as he lifted his hand, footsteps reached your ears.

You were in front of the open fridge just as John B. came in, handing him a drink when he asked for one. You stared at the food in front of you while you attempted to fix your face and get your emotions in check. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you wondered if you were just about to fall back into old habits had it not been for the brunette. You slipped out of the kitchen while John B. brought up something from the other day with JJ, and your smile was half hearted as Cleo pulled you to sit beside her.

You tried to engage with them, but it was hard. You couldn’t get JJ’s words out of your mind and how right they were despite your denial of them. Keeping Rafe happy and discouraging him from hurting you would only work for so long at a time. Eventually a day would come where Ward pissed him off and he’d take it out on your body in some form or another. It was inevitable that Topper or Kelce or some other guy would slip and dare to treat you like a human being, something that Rafe would no doubt interpret as a line being crossed.

It made your heart sink to think about.

So caught up in your thoughts, you paid no mind to JJ and John B. returning from the kitchen until you felt liquid spilling all over you and the part of the couch you were sitting on. It smelled too strong to be anything other than beer, and you heard everyone scold JJ just as you jumped to your feet.

“Why were you trying to carry so many?” Sarah loudly tore into him, alternating between looking over you and looking over the stained couch. “Now Y/N has to change, and you have to fix this couch.”

They briefly went back and forth while you tried to keep your shirt from sticking to you, assuring Sarah it was fine before making your way upstairs to do just as she said you would. You hurried into Rafe’s room, peeling off your shirt and your shorts the moment you were through the threshold. Your skin was already feeling sticky, and if he’d gotten beer on more than just your back and shoulders and arm, then you would’ve admitted defeat and hopped in the shower.

You were half dressed and wiping off the last of it when you heard Sarah’s voice in the hall.

“You have clothes here, right?”

“Yeah,” you called, grabbing one of the many shirts you kept in Rafe’s drawers.

“Okay, because JJ felt bad and wanted to be sure you had something to change into, and then that made me unsure-.”

You were facing her and fully dressed the moment she cut herself off, swallowing the rest of her words. She was just inside of Rafe’s room, hand still on the door handle as she stared at you. Something passed over her face that you’d never seen before, and her brows knitted together as she gave you a strange look.

“What was that?”

Now, it was your turn to frown.

“What was what?”

Her mouth opened and closed—like she was doubting herself—before she tucked some hair behind her ear.

“On your back.”

You felt your skin grow cold at her words, heart sinking as you quickly realized what she was referring to. Now, your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to respond. Your genuine confusion had quickly morphed into something that you normally only felt around Rafe—fear. 

Giving her a soft hum, you pulled on your shirt and twisted around.

“Nothing. The shirt’s clean,” you told her.

Sarah gave a soft chuckle, but sounded off—uncomfortable.

“No, under your shirt…”

You stepped away when she reached for you, and the blonde took notice, that frown returning. It deepened the longer she stared at you, and you attempted to lighten the mood.

“It was probably just the lighting, my back’s fine,” you assured her.

She rolled her eyes at you.

“That didn’t look like a shadow. I know what a shadow looks like-.”

“Sarah, come on, my back is fine,” you waved her off, moving out of her reach. “Let’s just go back downstairs.”

Your attempt to get past her was successful, but your efforts to leave the room were halted when Sarah pulled up on the end of your shirt.

The gasp that she let out was loud—horrified—and when you hurried to turn your back away from her, she had both of her hands over her mouth. Her wide eyes were frozen exactly where your back just was, and it took her a few moments to lift her gaze. All the while, your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest. You stared at her and she stared at you, both of you silent—her with horror and you with fear.

“What the hell is that?” she whispered when she finally uncovered her mouth.

“Sarah, it’s nothing-.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” she breathed. “There are bruises—that was a bite mark!”

You worriedly looked over your shoulder, scared her voice would carry.

“Where did that come from? Did Rafe do that?”

“It’s not what you think-!”

“Then what is it? Tell me what it is since it’s not what I think,” she spat.

You struggled to come up with an answer, resigned to admit that the truth—while bad—was the best thing you had up your sleeve.

“Things get a little rough sometimes in bed-.”

Sarah cut you off with a scoff, shaking her head at you.

“I don’t believe that,” she cried. “Even if I did, that looks disgusting and painful!”

She hurried to get past you, and you struggled to stop her.

“What are you doing?” you asked her, voice panicked.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m calling our father-.”

“Sarah, stop!”

She twisted out of your grip, and you chased her down the hall. Your mingled voices were loud as you argued, bouncing off of the walls as you chased her down the stairs. You didn’t pay any mind to her friends and what they were witnessing, only concerned with stopping Sarah from picking up her phone. You could feel their eyes on you as you grabbed her again, Sarah fighting to get you off of her.

“Woah, woah, hey!” John B. yelled, jumping in to separate you two.

“Sarah, leave it-!”

“Are you crazy? You expect me to just-.”

She was cut off as John B. successfully pulled her away from you, a hand on your own arm pulling you away. The problem arose again when John B. let her go, and you pushed your hand against the person behind you to get to her phone before she did. You both fought over it, you on top of her on the couch as you tried to yank it out of her hands. 

You could feel several pairs of hands between you, attempting to separate you again and keep it that way. JJ’s voice was in your ear as he pulled you off of her, your legs kicking out as you pointed at her phone.

“JJ, stop her,” you tearfully spat. “She’s trying to call Ward.”

When he made you face him, his own was twisted into confusion, and he kept his arms wrapped around you.

“What are you talking about? Why is she trying to call Ward?”

“Okay, both of you calm down,” Cleo spoke up, and when you looked over you saw that she was holding Sarah’s phone up and out of reach. “What’s going on?”

“She’s hurt! It’s all over her back,” Sarah choked out, chest heaving and face distressed. 

At those words, JJ tensed against you, and you gave him a pleading look when his eyes finally met yours again.

“She tried to give me some bullshit story, but I don’t believe it,” the words tumbled out of Sarah’s mouth, and JJ let you go. “JJ, she-.”

“I know,” he said as he neared her, Sarah speaking to him the moment she noticed his approach.

“No, you don’t know. There are bruises all over her back…” you felt several pairs of eyes on you at that. “...and…and…”

“Sarah, I know-.”

“No, you don’t understand-!”

“Sarah, I know,” JJ finally screamed, taking her shoulders and gently shaking her.

The entire house was quiet as his words lingered in the air, and you swore that you could hear a needle drop. Your entire body was trembling for so many reasons, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as Sarah’s eyes widened, her gaze never breaking from JJ’s. So many emotions passed over her features—confusion, understanding, shock, betrayal—before finally settling on two.

Sarah was horrified…and angry.

“You know?” she whispered. “What…? What does that even mean?”

She looked between you two, and you weren’t able to hold her gaze, your eyes landing on the floor. You were the center of attention at the moment, and you certainly felt it.

“H-how long have you…?”

JJ didn’t answer her unfinished question right away, sighing.

“I found out months ago…”

He trailed off at the audible reaction he got, and when you looked up, Sarah’s lips were parted. John B. was behind her, and he was looking between you and JJ with an expression that rivaled his girlfriend’s.

“Months?”

Sarah turned her gaze to you again.

“Months?” she choked out. “Months…”

She repeated it like she couldn’t believe it, and JJ took advantage of her shock to get his point across.

“Sarah, you cannot call Ward,” JJ slowly told her.

“Why the hell not?” John B. wondered, and you were sure you’d never heard him sound so angry.

“...because he’s with Rafe.”

Kie whispered it, coming to the same conclusion and realization that you and JJ were trying to lead Sarah to. The blonde girl in question looked at Kie in shock as if she herself just realized that, and she furiously blinked, shaking her head.

“Kie’s right, okay? He’s with Rafe, and you cannot call him about this. Not now, not ever…”

Only you and JJ knew that Ward was well aware of his son’s nature, and neither of you seemed eager to break that news to Sarah who was so sure her father would be the person to call because he’d do what was right.

“I don’t believe this,” she shakily whispered, twisting a hand into the hair at the top of her head. “He’s hurting you, and I’m just expected to-.”

“Yes,” JJ snapped at her. “You don’t understand-.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand!” they were in each other’s faces. “I don’t understand how Rafe has been hurting her for months apparently and I’ve been in the complete dark about it. I don’t understand how you knew and didn’t say anything!”

JJ sharply inhaled.

“I don’t understand how you’re standing here and telling me not to pick up the phone, and she’s agreeing. I don’t understand any of this,” Sarah tearfully said, shoving JJ. 

You stumbled back before turning away and searching for your purse. The sight of them arguing—because of you—and the feeling of everyone staring at you and knowing the truth was making you lightheaded and nauseous all at once, and you desperately wanted to be anywhere but here.

Kie called your name first, and then Pope, but you were already at the door when JJ finally chased after you. You could hear Sarah and Kie going back and forth as you stepped outside, and your vision was blurry when JJ finally caught up with you.

“They’re going to talk to her, okay?”

You sniffed, hurrying towards your car.

“She’s confused and scared and mad, right now, so she doesn’t get it, but she will,” JJ assured you. “We’re gonna talk to her.”

JJ’s hand was on your arm as you reached your car, and you stared at your reflections in the window for a few moments before a sob escaped you. JJ pulled you into his arms, gently shushing you as you cried into his shoulder. He didn’t offer any words of encouragement because this was an unprecedented situation, and neither of you knew what was going to happen from here. Nobody else was ever supposed to know.

…but especially Sarah.

JJ held you for the longest time, and resolute in your decision to end things with him, you allowed yourself to bask in the feeling. You deeply inhaled and relaxed at the familiar scent that was JJ Maybank. You allowed yourself to find comfort in the warmth of his arms, and you could feel JJ doing the same.

When he started to pull away, he kept his arms around you, and when you glanced up, your eyes met his. He looked sad for you and scared for you but above all, he looked like he missed you, and when JJ started to lean in, you swallowed.

“Rafe asked me to marry him…”

The blond froze.

“...and I said yes.”

Your lips brushed his as you spoke, and he remained there for a moment or two before finally leaning back to look you in the eyes. If you thought JJ looked horrified before, it was nothing in comparison to how he looked after hearing that you and Rafe were getting married.

“...and if I asked you not to?”

You gave a humorless chuckle.

“I’d say that a girl can dream.”

JJ softly said your name, and you shrugged.

“I wanted you to hear it from me,” you whispered. “He asked me in front of our families and all of their friends, so it’s not like I could say no.”

You watched as JJ’s expression hardened.

“This was never fair to you,” you said to him.”Please, stop hating Kie for pointing that out.”

“I can make my own damn decisions,” JJ threw out, and you swallowed down a sigh. “...and right now, I’m telling you that I’m not letting you marry him.”

It was a good thing that you didn’t know how to respond to that, because JJ continued.

“I’m not letting that happen,” he sneered. “The thought of you marrying that asshole makes me sick.”

You moved away from him, pushing his hands away when he reached for you.

“JJ, it’s over. I’m actually saying out loud this time,” you sadly told him. “Stop calling me, stop texting me, and… I won’t stop you from staying in the pool house, but I told you that my father-.”

“I’m not abandoning you. You can’t make me,” he cut you off, and you swallowed as he looked between your eyes. “This isn’t what you want, and I’m not gonna let you do this.”

“JJ, it’s done,” you firmly said to him. “Rafe and I are engaged. He asked my father’s permission, my mother is beside herself planning the whole wedding…and you and I are over.”

You looked between his eyes.

“That’s how things are supposed to be.”

The silence that stretched between you was thick and tense, and you swallowed at the way JJ ran his gaze over you. When he reached behind you to open your door, you sharply inhaled, moving closer to him to allow him to widen it. The blond leaned in then and pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. You closed your eyes, and he breathed you in.

“I’ll talk to Sarah.”

He assured you of that when you slid into the driver’s seat, but he didn’t acknowledge anything you said, and that made you nervous. He shut your door for you, and as you started your car, you were having a hard time believing your own words when you told him that you were over.

[rosenclaws]

Okay—don’t know if this fulfills the type of prompt you’re looking for but: Marie asking Logan to play Barbie’s with her. He somehow ends up wearing a princess crown

Babysitting || Worst!Logan x Reader

warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns are used and the reader is referred as mom

a/n: Man I just love writing Wolverine being a dad omfggg anyways I hope you enjoy!!!

"You promise you don't mind?"

You're rushing around your apartment trying to get ready for work. Just your luck you got called in for an emergency and your babysitter wasn't able to come on such short notice.

In the midst of your panic Logan knocked on your door like a knight in shining armor. Though this knight was caring an empty tupperware that you had given him leftovers in.

Logan had heard you talking to yourself in a panic. He tries not to eavesdrop but you were being louder than usual so being the good...uh boyfriend? Friend, Neighbor? You haven't really figured that part out yet.

Anyways being the good person that he is he came down to see what was wrong.

"I'm sure, she's a nice kid how hard can it be?" He says with a shrug and you resist the urge to scoff. He was doing you a huge favor afterall.

"Pick up is at 3pm, I'll be home by 6 and I'll grab dinner." You grab your bag and hurry out the door.

Logan glances at the clock. It's almost 3 so he better get a move on. Maries school was a short walk from the apartment. He can't but notice just how much he stands out among the other parents here for pick up and drop off.

He winces when he hears the shrieking laughter coming from the playground. Parents come and go, collecting their kids and listening to them talk about their day. He glances to the side and sees a little boy staring at him with wide eyes. In his hands was a wolverine figurine. Logan just smirks, putting his finger up to his lips telling the kid to keep quiet.

"Kitty!" Logan looks up to see Marie running towards him.

"Hey kid, your mom had to go to work so it's just me and you for a couple hours." He lifts Marie up into his arms.

Taking her backpack and slinging it onto his shoulder. The damn thing fit just a little too tight around his biceps and shoulders. As he walks home she rambles on about her day. Logan listens as she plays with the collar of his shirt.

"And then we wrote about our favorite animal and we got to draw it and Ms. K put all of our drawings on the wall."

"Yeah? What's your favorite animal?" Logan asks as he digs around for the key you gave him.

"Kitty cats!" Logan flinches as she practically shouts in his ear.

"Oh yeah? I couldn't tell." As he opens the door he sets her down, placing her stuff near the door as she goes running to her room.

Logan sits on the couch and stretches out, pick up is done so now he just has to make sure Marie doesn't die or get a tattoo or do anything stupid. As soon as he reaches for the remote he hears the little pitter of her feet.

She pokes her head around the wall and looks at Logan with those puppy dog eyes. He groans, knowing she was about to ask him something he won't be able to say no to.

"Will you play Barbie's with me? Mommy promised me she'd play today." She asks. Pulling two dolls from behind her back. Logan just sighs, putting his hands in his head.

"Wouldn't you rather color or something? Or we can watch that show with that annoying blue dog." He tries to bargain but Marie stands firm. She wants Barbie's. It's that or nothing. So Logan just nods his head.

"Okay fine. But only for an hour. Max."

An hour max his ass because Marie wouldn't let him leave. Every time he tried to end Barbie dress up her little eyes would fill with tears and Logan would quickly promise to keep playing. Just the threat of her tears was enough to make him fold. So here he is. At the will of a 6 year old.

"Logan? Marie? I'm home!" He hears your voice and your footsteps get closer.

"Mommy!" Marie yells.

"I brought pizza it's on the counter..." Your voice trails off as you appear in the doorway.

Marie runs past you straight to the bathroom to wash her hands before dinner. Logan is sitting on the ground, having broken the small wooden chair Marie insisted he sit on at firs. A plastic princess crown sits on his head and he has pink glitter nail polish messily painted onto his nails.

"Barbie tea party?" You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

"Yeah. You've raise a very manipulative child you know that?" Logan says as he stands up.

"All you have to do is say no Logan." You reach over and fix the crown so that it rested evenly on his head. His hair tuffs sticking out of the crown just above the fake jewels.

"Well she's very convincing." He hums.

Your hands fall back to your sides but you don't move from the doorway. Something about seeing him so willing to spend time with Marie, to entertain her silly games and even let her paint his nails.

It just means a lot. Logan...he didn't sign up for all of this but he's willingly brought himself into your life and you don't want him to leave. But is he here for Marie? Or would he stick around for you too?

"How do I look?" He asks, snapping you out of your question sprial.

"Huh?" You ask. He shrugs and crosses his arms, his biceps bulging out of his flannel shirt.

"You're staring at me sweetheart, thought I'd ask if you like what you see." He purrs.

Your eyes widen as he slowly backs you against the wall. Even with the pink nails and the plastic crown Logan was all consuming. There's just something so attractive about his paternal instincts.

"You look good." You squeak out.

"Just good?" He asks and you swear your brain starts to short circuit.

"Mommy! I'm hungry." Marie's voice makes Logan jump back, his cockiness fades away as he reaches up and takes the crown off.

"I'll be right there baby. Just go sit down." You say with a smile. You glance back at Logan for a moment, a beat of silence as you stare into each others eyes. Your heart is still racing. He gently places the crown on Marie's bed and walks past you to the kitchen.

"Fuck." You whisper. What was that?

You pretend like you weren't pressed up against the wall by Logan just moments ago and serve everyone a slice of pizza. You listen as Marie tells you about her day and playing with Logan. It's so utterly domestic. But soon Marie's bedtime comes around and it's time to say goodbye.

"Kitty can you pick me up from school tomorrow?" Marie asks sleepily.

"Oh baby Logan's very busy-"

"I don't mind" Logan cuts in.

"Gives me something to do during the day. As long as you don't mind." he adds on the last part quickly. Before you can answer Marie does it for you.

"Yes!" She squeals.

"Marie wait!" You call but she's already gone to her room.

"Are you sure Logan? I know it's a lot. That we can be a lot."

"Sweetheart, I like spending time with her, with you." Logan says softly.

He's really grown to care about Marie and you. A lot. More than he's willing to admit out loud right now. The two of you aren't a lot to Logan. In fact you're just what he needs. This normalcy and kindness. Being around the two of you makes him feel like he really can be more than the man he used to be.

"Okay, thank you Logan. You don't know how much everything you've done means to us." You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it gently.

"See you tomorrow sweetheart." He throws you a wink as he shuts the door.

He stays for just a moment. He hears your footsteps get farther away and he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. As he heads back to his apartment he starts to feel dread creeping up his throat. Who is he kidding? Can the Wolverine really go and play babysitter? He's not...he's not good for you or for Marie. But he cares about the two of you and he's too selfish to let you go now.

"How was your date with the hot mom downstairs?" Wade asks as Logan steps into the apartment.

"It wasn't a date I was just helping out." Logan mumbles as he opens the fridge and searches for a beer, only finding a root beer instead.

"Hey we listen and we don't judge. Everyone has a type. Yours just happens to be MILFS."

Logan shoots daggers at Wade as he pops off the top of the bottle.

"Shut the fuck up." A surge of jealousy hitting him like a truck at the idea of Wade even thinking of you like that. Wade just smirks, loving just how easy it is to push his buttons.

"Man you're just racking up those father figure roles aren't you Hugh." Wade sighs. Logan choose to ignore whatever nonsense Wade was spitting from his mouth and head right to bed.

Closing his eyes he just wonders how far he'll let himself sink into your lives. A small part of him hopes forever.

[gf2bellamy]

Hiiii! I love your fics! How does your brain work is one mystery! I have a request - you know how in 1.17 A Real Rain where they had a case in NYC and Reid says his he has never been there and how in the ep he doesn't know how to use chopsticks, I was think a sunshine!bau!reader x spencer!reid where she gives him a tour around the city and teachers him how to use chopsticks. They can have an established relationship or friends in love or anything, up to you! Thank you Anna love you lotsss!!!

tour — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: established relationship , they eat lots of food , its honestly just pure fluff a/n: i had so much fun writing this but pls keep in mind that i've never been to new york so if i got something wrong i'm vv sorry ! <3

“Okay, time to start the tour!” you announced, clapping your hands together as you and Spencer stepped out of the hotel lobby and into the crisp morning air of New York City.

Spencer adjusted the strap of his messenger bag, his eyes wide as he took in the towering skyline. You couldn’t help but grin at the way his head tilted back slightly.

 God, he’s adorable. 

“You’ve really never been to New York before?” you asked, nudging his shoulder with yours. 

He blinked, shaking his head. “I’ve read about it. Does that count?” 

“Absolutely not,” you declared, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers through his. “Reading about New York and experiencing New York are two entirely different things. And lucky for you, you’ve got the best tour guide in the city.” 

Spencer smiled down at you, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Where are we starting?” 

You squeezed his hand and tugged him forward, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. “With the classics,” you said, your voice bubbling with excitement. 

Spencer let you lead, his long legs easily keeping pace with your eager strides. He watched the way your eyes lit up as you pointed out little details—the faded graffiti on a brick wall, the smell of fresh pretzels from a street vendor. 

“First stop,” you announced, stopping in front of a small, unassuming bagel shop tucked between a deli and a thrift store. The scent of freshly baked dough and roasted coffee beans spilled out onto the sidewalk, and Spencer inhaled deeply, his stomach giving a quiet growl. 

“We’re starting with a classic New York bagel,” you said, grinning up at him. “And—” you leaned in conspiratorially, “—they have amazing coffee. Trust me.” 

Spencer’s lips quirked. “I do trust you,” he said softly. “But statistically, New Yorkers overestimate the quality of their coffee by at least—” 

You pressed a finger to his lips, cutting him off. “Hush, Dr. Reid. Just let me prove you wrong.” 

He laughed, the sound warm, and you felt your chest swell with affection. 

Inside, the shop was cozy and crowded. You ordered for both of you—an everything bagel with scallion cream cheese for him, a cinnamon raisin with honey walnut for yourself—and two large coffees.

“You remembered how I take my coffee,” he noted, accepting the cup from you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Spencer, I’ve seen you drink approximately three hundred cups of coffee in the time I’ve known you. It’s not exactly a hard pattern to recognize.” 

He smirked. “Fair point.” 

You found a tiny table by the window, your knees bumping against his under the cramped space. Spencer took a careful bite of his bagel, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. 

“Okay,” he admitted after swallowing. “This is significantly better than airport bagels.” 

You grinned triumphantly. “Told you.” 

He took another bite, humming in approval. “The texture is perfect—chewy but not dense, with just the right amount of—” 

You reached over, swiping a dollop of cream cheese from the corner of his mouth with your thumb before he could finish his analysis. Spencer froze, his cheeks flushing slightly. 

“You had a little something,” you teased. 

He cleared his throat. “Right. Thanks.” 

You sipped your latte, watching him over the rim of your cup. “So,” you said, tapping your fingers against the table. “After this, I thought we would check out a bookstore, its right around the corner and its perfect for you trust me.”

The moment you mentioned a bookstore, Spencer's entire demeanor shifted. His hazel eyes lit up, and he practically inhaled the last bite of his bagel in his haste.You couldn't help but giggle at the way he nearly choked in his enthusiasm, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk as he tried to chew and declare "I'm ready!" simultaneously. 

"Easy there, speed reader," you laughed, standing and offering your hand. He took it eagerly, his long fingers wrapping around yours.

The walk to the bookstore was challenging.

Spencer kept surging ahead like an overeager puppy, his natural long strides carrying him three steps forward before you'd have to gently tug him back toward the correct crosswalk or sidewalk. 

"You're worse than a kid on Christmas morning," you teased as you finally reached the store with its hand-painted sign.

Then Spencer saw the shelves. 

His mouth fell open in pure wonder, his grip slackening in yours as he took in the towering bookcases that seemed to go on forever, the stacks of novels teetering on every available surface.

You didn't need to look at him to know what he was thinking - you could feel the excited energy radiating off him.

"Go on," you murmured, squeezing his hand once before releasing it. 

Spencer didn't need telling twice. He pressed a quick, grateful kiss to your cheek that left your skin tingling, then disappeared into the literary maze.

You wandered through the bookstore, trailing your fingers along spines.

Nearly 30 minutes later, you turned a corner to find Spencer balancing a stack of books in his arms, his hair slightly mussed from running his hands through it in excitement. The sight made your heart squeeze affectionately. 

"They have the most amazing first editions," he breathed, his voice hushed. His hazel eyes practically glowed in the dim light. "This 1937 printing of 'The Hobbit' has the original color plates, and this copy of 'Frankenstein' is from 1823, and-" 

His words tumbled out in an excited rush, hands carefully shifting to show you each treasure. You watched, utterly enchanted, as he explained the significance of each book.

"Should I ask how much all these are going to cost us?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. 

Spencer's excited ramble stuttered to a halt. He blinked down at his armful of books, then back at you, suddenly looking adorably guilty. "...I might have gotten carried away." 

You reached up to smooth a wayward curl behind his ear, your fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. "Good thing I love seeing you happy," you murmured. 

The soft, grateful smile he gave you was worth every penny those first editions would cost. 

The afternoon sun cast long shadows as you emerged from the bookstore, Spencer practically glowing with happiness, his arms full with three bulging bags.

 "Time for one of NYC's most famous places," you announced, slipping your hand around his bicep since his fingers were too occupied with book bags to hold yours. You'd offered to swing by the hotel first to drop off his purchases, but he'd refused - as if parting with his new books for even a moment might make them disappear. 

 Spencer tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Yes?" 

You grinned, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Times Square. The crossroads of the world." 

His face immediately lit up with recognition, and before you could take another step, he launched into an animated explanation: "Did you know Times Square was originally called Longacre Square until 1904 when the New York Times moved their headquarters there? And the first electrified advertisement appeared in—" 

You listened with fond amusement as his words tumbled out in that rapid-fire way they did when he was excited.

As you rounded the corner, Spencer's lecture cut off abruptly. His steps faltered as the full sensory overload of Times Square hit him - the neon lights, the towering digital billboards flashing advertisements and Broadway snippets. His eyes darted from one spectacle to another, his mind clearly working overtime to process it all. 

"Look at that," he murmured, nodding to a massive screen displaying a clip from a Broadway musical. "That staging technique is fascinating." 

"We can go see it if you want," you offered, already mentally calculating how to get tickets. 

But Spencer was already distracted by something new, his head tilting back to take in a skyscraper's animated LED facade. You let him absorb the moment, content to watch his wonderment. 

Then you spotted it - the iconic "I Love New York" store. 

"Oh my god," you gasped, tightening your grip on his arm. "We're buying you a mug." 

Spencer opened his mouth, likely to protest that he didn't need more souvenirs, but you were already steering him through the crowded sidewalk and into the store before he could form a coherent argument. 

The shop was a riot of red and white merchandise - t-shirts, keychains, snow globes, and of course, rows upon rows of mugs. You beelined for the display, immediately grabbing one with the classic logo in bold black letters. 

 "You need this," you declared, holding it up for his inspection. "Every genius needs a good coffee mug for all those late-night reading sessions." 

Spencer's protest died on his lips as he saw your enthusiastic expression. He sighed in mock resignation, but the way his eyes crinkled at the corners betrayed his amusement. "I suppose it would be terrible to visit New York and not get at least one cliché souvenir." 

You stood on your toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "That's the spirit. Now help me find the cheesiest one they have - I think I saw a glitter version back there." 

As Spencer laughed and allowed himself to be pulled deeper into the store.

Once you bought multiple mugs , you wandered down quieter streets, your energy finally waning after hours of exploration. You leaned your cheek against Spencer's arm with a dramatic sigh.

"I'm hungry," you admitted, the words muffled slightly against his sleeve. 

Spencer looked down at you. The bags of books swung gently from his other hand as he adjusted his stance to better support your weight. "I'm sure you already have a place in mind," he said.

You pulled back just enough to grin up at him. "You know me so well." 

Without hesitation, you guided him toward a cozy little restaurant tucked between two taller buildings. The delicious aroma of soy sauce and ginger wafted through the open door. 

"We," you announced as you stepped inside, "are teaching you how to use chopsticks." 

Spencer opened his mouth—probably to protest that he could learn just fine from a book—but the hostess was already leading you to a corner table draped in soft yellow light.

Soon enough, you found yourself unable to contain your laughter as Spencer attempted to maneuver the chopsticks. His brow furrowed in intense concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. The chopsticks slipped again, sending the food tumbling back onto his plate with a quiet plop. 

"You're enjoying this too much," he accused, though there was no real annoyance in his voice as he caught your poorly-hidden grin. "I thought you were going to help me," he added when the chopsticks clattered into the bowl of miso soup for the third time. 

"Sorry, sorry," you giggled, finally pushing back your chair, as you moved to sit beside him on the padded bench, your thigh pressing warmly against his. 

You reached over to rearrange his fingers, your skin brushing against his in a way that made his stomach flutter. "Like this," you murmured, guiding his grip with gentle pressure. "Thumb here, middle finger there... and you have to hold the bottom one completely still." 

Spencer's hands were warm beneath yours, his long fingers trembling slightly as he tried to follow your instructions. You could see the exact moment when it clicked for him—his eyes lighting up.

"Ah," he breathed as he successfully lifted a piece of cucumber roll. The triumph in his voice was utterly endearing. "It's all about the fulcrum point." 

You rested your chin in your hand, unable to wipe the smile from your face as you watched him carefully—proudly—eat his first successful bite.

"See?" you said softly. "I knew you could do it." 

Spencer bumped his knee against yours under the table, a silent thank you that spoke volumes. Then, he used his newly-acquired skill to place a piece of salmon directly onto your plate.

Two hours later, you collapsed onto the hotel bed with a groan as you threw an arm across your face. 

"I can't feel my feet," you mumbled into the crook of your elbow. 

Spencer carefully set down his precious book bags—their contents now safely deposited on the dresser—before joining you on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, causing you to slide toward him until your head naturally found its place in his lap. His fingers immediately carding through your hair.

"Me neither, to be honest," Spencer admitted with a quiet chuckle, his free hand already pulling out the first book from his bag.

You closed your eyes, letting the motion of Spencer's fingers in your hair lull you into relaxation.

"I got us tickets for that Broadway show you saw on the billboard," you murmured into the quiet. 

The pages stopped mid-turn. 

"What? How? When?" Spencer's voice held equal parts surprise and delight, his fingers pausing their movements in your hair. 

You cracked one eye open to see him looking down at you, his hazel eyes wide.

"When you were staring at that one picture in the Met Museum for like fifteen minutes," you said, a smug smile tugging at your lips. "The one with the fruit basket that you insisted had 'hidden symbolism.'" 

Spencer's mouth opened and closed several times before he managed, "That was Caravaggio's 'Basket of Fruit,' and the decaying—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "Wait, no, that's not the point. You really got tickets?" 

You reached up to boop his nose, enjoying the way it scrunched in response. "Front row center. Tonight at eight." 

For a moment, Spencer just stared at you, his expression softening into something unbearably fond. Then, without warning, he bent down and kissed your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. 

"You," he murmured against your hairline, "are incredible." 

You hummed contentedly, closing your eyes again as he returned to his book, though you could feel his fingers trembling slightly with excitement in your hair.

The Broadway show had been spectacular—more than you'd dreamed. His hand unconsciously reaching for yours in the dark when the romantic duet began. You'd laced your fingers together without thinking, his palm warm against yours.

Afterwards, you wandered back towards the hotel, ice cream cones dripping down your fingers while swinging bags of freshly baked cookies and still-warm donuts between you. Spencer kept bumping your shoulder every few steps—partly to avoid the jostling crowds, mostly because he wanted to be close to you. 

Back at the hotel room, you changed quickly—you into Spencer's favorite sweater (the one that swallowed you whole, the cuffs falling past your fingertips), him into worn cotton pajama pants that made him look unfairly cozy.

You settled onto the bed, tucking your legs beneath you, while Spencer leaned against the headboard, already halfway through a donut.

"This is perfect," he murmured around a mouthful, his voice thick with sugar and something soft. You nodded, your own cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk's with chocolate chip cookies.

"I hope you liked my tour," you finally managed after swallowing, grinning at him.

Spencer set his donut down —a telltale sign he was about to say something heartfelt. He reached forward, his fingers brushing a crumb from your cheek before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a second too long. 

"I loved it." His thumb traced the curve of your ear absentmindedly. "Thank you." 

Then, quieter, his gaze dropping to where your fingers twisted in the sheets: "Do you think we can spend another day here?" Before you could answer, he rushed to add, "I'd like to go back to that bookstore," his ears flushing that adorable pink you loved. 

You tilted your head, unable to resist teasing. "Were the thirteen books you bought not enough?" 

Spencer hesitated, his nose scrunching in that way that made your stomach flip. "No?" he said, the word lifting at the end like a question, and you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up.

"Of course we can stay," you grinned, nudging the cookie box aside before gently bumping your knee against his. His smile was worth every changed travel plan in the world. 

"Besides," you added, peeking up at him through your lashes, "I saw how you looked at that first edition Poe. We're not leaving until it's yours." 

Spencer's smile could have powered Times Square. 

[kxsagi]

Hiiii!! I like your account very much and the way you write is great. I thought something like, sae x fem reader, reader is cheerful, understanding, playful and talkative. She's always the one who initiates the conversation, the contact with Sae. But one day, she's worried that Sae is uncomfortable, so she doesn't talk to him or hug him, so what if Sae noticed?

“𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐃 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬”

a/n: thank you so much!!! this was kinda easy to write bc i am definitely this type of person lol

also, guys i swear i see requests in my inbox, i write them down for future reference, and when i’m about to write them, they’re like gone??? 😭

like i was gonna write it, i just need a couple days because i have other things going on, and i will respond if i am not comfortable writing it lol

(art credits go to immmso_ko on X)

sae itoshi isn’t used to being the one who reaches out first. 

he doesn’t need to. 

not when you’re around. 

you, with your sunshine grin and warm hands. you, who waltz into his life every morning like you’re the human embodiment of a golden retriever with a caffeine addiction. 

you, who hum off-key to whatever song’s been rotting in your brain all week. who pops into the kitchen just to press a surprise kiss to his cheek and dramatically declare, “that was your daily serotonin dose. you’re welcome.” 

you, who casually slip your fingers under the hem of his shirt when you hug him just to be a little nuisance about it. “oh wow, your back is so warm. you’re like a human heater. lucky me.” 

sae rolls his eyes every time. pretends to be annoyed. but he never stops you. 

and maybe that’s the problem. 

because now, he’s starting to think he’s been too good at pretending. 

it takes him a while to figure out what feels off. 

at first, he thinks maybe he’s just in a fouler mood than usual. his teammates were particularly slow during training. his coach was nagging more than necessary. the post-practice traffic was a nightmare. 

but then he walks into the apartment. 

and it hits him. 

the space is… quiet. too quiet. 

no overenthusiastic “sae!! you’re home!!” followed by you practically launching yourself at him like a feral cat on catnip. no sudden, unsolicited dance breaks in the kitchen while you wait for the water to boil. not even a playful jab about how he never texts you when he’s on his way home. 

just… silence. 

he finds you on the couch, scrolling through your phone. when you glance up and smile, it’s small. polite. the kind you’d give to a coworker you barely tolerate. 

okay. weird. 

he figures maybe you’re just tired. long day or whatever. but no, even when he sits next to you, you don’t do… anything. 

you don’t tuck your legs over his lap. you don’t lean against him or comb your fingers through his hair like you usually do when he’s within a five-foot radius. 

you’re not touching him. 

the realization makes his eye twitch. 

he’s not even being subtle about his staring at this point. he’s glaring at you like you’ve personally wronged him. and you, being the self-aware ray of sunshine that you are, notice immediately. 

"what’s wrong?" you ask softly. 

he narrows his eyes. "you tell me." 

you blink. "huh?" 

"you’re acting weird," he says bluntly, and you blink again, caught off guard by the sharpness in his voice. 

"what? no, i’m not," you say with a too-quick shake of your head. 

he squints at you. unimpressed. he’s not letting this go. 

"you are," he deadpans, voice low and flat. 

and that’s when you start to sweat. 

you glance away, suddenly very interested in the coffee table. "i’m not," you mutter under your breath, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. 

but he’s not buying it. 

"yes, you are." 

"no, i’m not." 

"you are." 

"i’m not." 

he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. his eyes narrow further. "you are." 

"i’m not!!" 

a brief, heated staring contest ensues. 

… you lose. obviously. 

you sigh, slumping back against the couch. your shoulders sink slightly, and for the first time tonight, you look… sheepish. almost guilty. 

"i just…" you exhale softly, voice quieter than before. "i didn’t want to be… too much." 

his eyes flicker. "what?" he mutters. 

your fingers pick at a loose thread in your sleeve, suddenly avoiding his gaze again. 

"i wasn’t sure if you liked it when i… y’know, talk so much. or cling to you all the time. you never… complain or anything, but you never really initiate either, so…" you trail off, your voice growing smaller. "i thought maybe you were just putting up with it. so i didn’t want to, like… overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable." 

sae stares at you. 

and suddenly, he feels like a massive fucking idiot. 

because here you are, walking on eggshells around him – him – when all you’ve ever done is make his life warmer. brighter. easier. 

and what did he do? 

he let you think he didn’t want it. 

he presses his lips into a thin line. swallows down the brief twinge of self-loathing and quietly reaches for your hand. 

the moment his fingers brush against yours, you freeze slightly. but when he intertwines them with deliberate slowness, you blink, clearly caught off guard. 

"don’t do that again," he mutters, voice low but steady. "don’t pull away." 

your brows furrow slightly, confused. "but i thought –" 

"don’t," he cuts you off, and you immediately fall silent. he squeezes your hand slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, gaze unwavering. 

"i like it," he mutters, voice a little strained, almost like the words are foreign to him. "when you talk. when you touch me. i…" he inhales sharply, eyes narrowing slightly, almost annoyed at himself for being so bad at this. "i like it. alright?" 

you blink at him, wide-eyed. 

he waits for you to say something. anything. 

but then you just… burst into laughter. 

his eyes narrow slightly, but before he can ask what the hell is so funny, you’re suddenly climbing into his lap. 

and for once, he doesn’t flinch. 

he exhales sharply when your arms wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him like you’re trying to fuse your body with his. your fingers immediately find their way under his shirt, cool palms pressing against his bare skin like they belong there. 

"you’re such a grump," you mumble into his shoulder, voice muffled but clearly teasing. "but you’re my grump." 

he rolls his eyes, exasperated. but his arms tighten around you anyway. 

"don’t push your luck," he mutters. 

but he makes no effort to let you go. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[stargazsblog]

what happens in vegas | ch.1 vegas?

satoru gojo x fem!reader

౨ৎ after a messy breakup, you go to vegas with your best friend, shoko, to forget about everything. a night of partying and drinking, you wake up in a hotel room with a stranger in your bed and a ring on your finger, with zero idea what happened. that stranger? satoru gojo-some guy you barely know. turns out, you two might've gotten married. now you've got to figure out what to do with this mess.

౨ৎ warning/tags: fluff, romance, jealousy, no smut (im sorry), sexual references, some angst, use of alcohol, inspired by what happens in vegas.

note: i’m loving this already…

masterlist

“You know what, Shoko?” you slurred, swirling the liquid in your glass before taking another sip. “He doesn’t even deserve me.”

A few hours ago, you walked in on Sukuna with another girl in your bed. Now, you’re at a bar with your best friend, Shoko, trying to drown the memory.

Shoko sat across from you, arms folded on the sticky bar table. Her eyes narrowed. “Damn right he doesn’t.” She reached for her drink, taking a long swig before slamming the glass down. “You should’ve punch him when you saw him. Or — oh! You know what we should do? We should egg his house.” Her face lit up with the idea, leaning closer. “Or maybe… we can beat the living shit out of him.”

You blinked at her, a little stunned. “Shoko…”

“What?” She shrugged, taking another drink. “He deserves it.”

You laughed dryly, shaking your head. “It’s not worth it.” Your fingers traced the rim of your glass, eyes dropping to the table. “I just… I really thought I was going to marry him, you know?” The words came out softer, almost like a confession.

Shoko’s face softened. She reached over, resting her hand over yours. “I know.”

You sighed, taking another sip, the burn sliding down your throat. “How did I not see it? I walked into my own room and there he was… with her. On my bed.” You squeezed your eyes shut, the image flashing behind your eyelids. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“Hey.” Shoko squeezed your hand. “You’re not stupid. He’s just an asshole.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning back in your seat. The music pounded through the speakers, but all you could feel was the ache in your chest. “Yeah,” you whispered. “An asshole.”

“You know what? Where can you go to forget all your troubles and make bad decisions?” Shoko asked, swirling her drink.

“Don’t say Vegas.” You rolled your eyes. She’d been begging you to go for the past month, but Sukuna said you couldn’t go. He was strict, always keeping you on a leash, making sure you never had too much fun.

“Vegas,” Shoko repeated, grinning.

You sighed, biting your lip. “I don’t know… what if I just end up thinking about him the whole time?”

“That’s what the drinks are for.” She took a sip and set her glass back down with a soft clink.

Shoko leaned in, eyes softening. “Babe, I know you’re going through a hard time right now. That’s why we’re going to Vegas. It’ll be a distraction. It’ll be fun. Besides, you deserve a break. Three years with Sukuna? that sounds like living hell.”

You hesitated. She wasn’t wrong. You were always asking permission, feeling more like a prisoner than a girlfriend. Maybe this was exactly what you needed.

“Okay,” you mumbled, nodding slowly. “Okay, fine. But I’m not trying to do anything stupid.”

Shoko smirked. “It’s Vegas, babe. We’ll deal with the consequences when we get back.”

You exhaled, feeling the tiniest flicker of relief. Maybe this was a good idea. Maybe, for once, you deserved to let go.

The moment you stepped out of the cab and onto the Strip, your mouth practically fell open. The lights were brighter than you imagined, stretching high into the sky, flashing and glowing in every color. The streets were alive, packed with people laughing, drinking, and stumbling from one casino to the next. Music thumped from somewhere nearby, and the air smelled like heat, excitement, and a little bit of regret.

“Wow…” you whispered, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “Why haven’t I come here sooner?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” Shoko said dryly, dragging her suitcase behind her. “Maybe because you were too far up Sukuna’s ass to do anything fun.”

You shot her a glare. “Real nice.”

“Just saying.” She shrugged, smirking. “If you hadn’t spent the last three years playing house with Mr. ‘You Can’t Breathe Without Me Watching,’ we could’ve been making bad decisions here ages ago.”

You sighed, but a small smile crept onto your face. She wasn’t wrong. For the first time in a long time, you felt… free.

“Come on,” Shoko said, linking her arm with yours. “Let’s check in, get dressed, and let’s have fun.”

The hotel lobby was super busy. People were everywhere — talking, laughing, and dragging their suitcases across the shiny marble floor. The ceiling was really high, and there were these giant chandeliers that sparkled. You followed Shoko to the check-in desk, trying to take it all in.

Shoko tapped the little bell on the counter, sighing loudly. “Ugh, finally. My feet are killing me.”

While she dealt with the receptionist, you looked around. There was a bar in the corner, and you could hear the sound of slot machines somewhere in the background. Then, you noticed a group of guys standing near the lounge.

They stood out.

One of them had long black hair, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed, looking bored. Another guy, taller and super muscular, had a scar on his lip and was sipping a drink while watching people walk by. But the one in the middle… he caught your attention.

He had white hair — like, really white — and the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen. They almost glowed under the lights. He was tall and lean, dressed pretty casually, but something about him made it hard to look away. He laughed at something one of his friends said.

Then, as if he could feel you staring, he turned his head.

His blue eyes locked onto yours, sharp and curious. For a second, it felt like time slowed down. The noise of the lobby faded, and all you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears. He tilted his head slightly, a small smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks, and quickly looked away. What the heck was that?

“Come on.” Shoko grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the elevator. “Room first, drinks second.”

You risked one last glance as the elevator doors slid shut. The white-haired guy was still watching you, his smirk growing before he turned back to his friends.

As the elevator went up, you leaned against the wall, heart racing. It was probably nothing. Just some random guy.

But for some reason, you had a weird feeling you’d be seeing him again.

The elevator doors slid open, and you followed Shoko down a long, carpeted hallway. The walls had fancy gold trim, and the lights were soft and warm. When you reached your room, Shoko swiped the key card, pushing the door open dramatically.

“Ta-da!” she announced, stepping inside.

You dragged your suitcase in and looked around. The room was huge — two big beds with fluffy white blankets, a flat-screen TV, and a massive window that showed off the bright lights of the city. You wandered over, pressing your hands against the glass, staring down at the endless crowd of people and glowing signs.

Shoko flopped onto one of the beds, stretching out like a starfish. “Do you have any idea how much money I spent on this?” she asked, grinning over at you.

You turned and gave her a look. “Shoko, how much?”

Shoko had been kind enough to pay for the trip. Of course, you offered to split the cost, but she insisted—something about ‘wanting to be reckless with her money for once.’

She just shrugged casually. “Does it really matter? What matters is that you’re having fun today. We’re in Vegas, and we’re going to make sure you forget all about that idiot Sukuna.” She paused, then her eyes lit up. “And maybe we can find a sexy man for you tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? Vegas men? You do realize those guys don’t want to commit, right?”

Shoko waved her hand dismissively, sitting up on the bed. “Please, babe. It’s Vegas. They’re here for fun, and so are we. Who cares if it’s not forever? You just need someone to take your mind off things.”

You sighed but couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto your face. “I guess you’re right.”

Shoko grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, cracking it open and offering it to you. “Exactly. Now, drink up, get dressed, and let’s hit the club. We’ve got a whole night of bad decisions ahead.”

You opened your suitcase, only to find a bunch of skimpy outfits neatly folded inside. You frowned, realizing with a sinking feeling that none of this was your doing. It was all Shoko’s idea of “fun.”

“What the hell, Shoko?” you muttered under your breath, pulling out a tight red dress with way too many straps.

As Shoko rummaged through her own things, oblivious to your mild panic, you started thinking. You hadn’t been out in so long. You were 23, still so young, but somehow, it felt like you missed out on so much. The last three years had been consumed by your relationship with Sukuna.

You and Shoko used to have so much fun back in high school — sneaking into parties, drinking. But ever since you met Sukuna, everything changed. He hated you going out, hated you having fun without him. He was too controlling, convinced you couldn’t be trusted to do anything on your own. You tried to argue, tried to explain that you were independent, but he always found a way to make you feel guilty.

You looked over at Shoko, who was already slipping into something that probably cost way too much, and realized how lucky you were to have her by your side. She’s the one who is helping you forget about him, even if just for a night. She always had your back, even when Sukuna tried to convince you that no one else could ever understand you like he did.

“Ready to party?” Shoko called over her shoulder, catching your eye as she twirled around.

You smiled, feeling a weight lift off your chest. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

You and Shoko finally arrived at the club, the music growing louder the closer you got to the entrance. The neon lights flashing from the outside made everything feel electric. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement as the bouncer waved you both in, barely even checking your IDs.

Once inside, the place was packed with people moving to the beat, colorful lights flashing from every corner of the club. The bass thumped deep in your chest, vibrating through your body. It felt like a whole new world compared to the quiet, controlled life you’d been living with Sukuna.

Shoko immediately pulled you toward the bar, practically dragging you through the crowd of people. The bartender, a guy with slicked-back hair and a black apron, gave you a smile as you both hopped onto the bar stools.

“What are we drinking tonight?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.

Shoko smiled and leaned in a little too close to the bar. “Two of whatever’s strongest.”

The bartender nodded and quickly got to work, mixing the drinks with practiced ease. As he slid them over to you, you took a sip of the strong cocktail, the burn warming your throat. You cringed at the taste, but it was a good kind of burn. The alcohol hit you almost immediately.

Shoko was talking to the bartender, but your attention drifted. You glanced around, trying to get used to the neon lights and the crowd, and then you spotted him across the bar.

It was him. The guy from the hotel lobby.

For a second, you totally forgot how to breathe. He was leaning against the wall, somehow looking like a model without even trying. His white button-up was unbuttoned at the top, showing just enough of his chest to make your face heat up. The sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms, and he wore this silver chain that somehow made him look even hotter. His dark jeans fit really well, and the way he stood, all relaxed and confident, made it hard not to stare. Then his eyes met yours, and it felt like the whole room faded for a moment. He held your gaze a little too long before looking away, and you had to remind yourself to blink.

You turned your head, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

Shoko, always noticing everything, leaned over to look at where you’d been staring. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.

“Oh, he’s cute,” she said, her voice almost teasing.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. “Stop,” you said, trying to brush it off.

Shoko wasn’t having it. “What? He is cute. And I don’t know, he looks like he’s into you.”

You glanced over at him again, but this time, your eyes locked. You quickly looked away, your heart racing just a little faster.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, amused. “He’s totally checking you out.”

You shook your head, but the grin on Shoko’s face told you she wasn’t going to let it go.

“Don’t freak out, but I think he’s coming over here,” Shoko said, her eyes glued to the guy across the room.

You whipped your head around to look at her, your eyes wide. “What do you mean he’s coming over here?!”

Shoko leaned forward slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I mean he’s literally walking with his two legs over here. Wait, hold up, a girl just stopped him.” She paused, watching the scene unfold across the bar.

You stared at her, confused. “What? What’s happening?”

Shoko squinted, still watching him. “Oh, wait, never mind. He’s coming back, and—oh no, his friends are following him too.”

Your brows furrowed, trying to make sense of the situation. “What are you even talking about?”

Shoko, now looking entirely too pleased with herself, glanced over at you. “Relax. He’s coming over. Just… breathe.”

You shook your head, panic rising. “Shoko, what do I do? Oh my god, I think I’m gonna throw up.” You took another gulp of your drink, chugging it down in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves. You’d never done anything like this before. Your whole life had been spent with Sukuna, and you hadn’t exactly gotten a lot of practice with normal, everyday interactions.

Shoko gave you a playful shove. “You’re gonna be fine. Just be cool. He’s just a guy, right? Don’t overthink it.”

Before you could even reply to Shoko, you heard a deep voice from behind you.

“Hello.”

You froze, your eyes wide as you looked at Shoko, who was staring at you with a teasing grin, then at the guy behind you. You slowly turned around, and there he was — the same man from the hotel lobby. He stood taller than you expected, towering over you as you sat at the bar.

You gulped, trying to compose yourself. He was even more hotter up close. His features were sharp, and those intense blue eyes seemed to lock onto yours, scanning you from head to toe. You felt a flutter in your chest as he smirked, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Well, you look even better up close,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing. His grin was playful, but there was a sharp edge to it. “I’m starting to think I’m the lucky one tonight.”

Behind him, you noticed his friends were watching, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before them.

You were completely caught off guard. Was this really happening? This wasn’t how your night was supposed to go. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out at first.

Shoko, always ready to tease you, couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, you two already know each other, huh?”

He chuckled, glancing over at Shoko with a sly look. “Not yet, but I’m sure we’ll become great friends.” His eyes flicked back to you. “Right, sweetheart?”

You felt your heart race, but you rolled your eyes to play it cool, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you were. “Really? Is this how you greet every girl you meet?”

His smirk widened, and he leaned a little closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “Only the ones I think are worth my time. And right now, you’re definitely making the list.” He gave you a wink, causing a mix of excitement and discomfort to swirl in your stomach.

You sat there, trying to play it cool despite the way his intense gaze made your heart beat faster. Before you could say anything else, he spoke up again.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said, his tone more casual, like it was the easiest thing in the world to offer.

You shook your head lightly, glancing over at Shoko, who raised an eyebrow and shot you a knowing side-eye. “No thank you,” you said, trying to sound firm. “We were actually just leaving.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he took a step closer, his body language relaxed, almost too confident. “Really?” he asked, his voice teasing. “Seems like you two just got here.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could get a word out, he interrupted you. “Just one drink. I promise you, it’ll be worth your time.”

Shoko, still sitting beside you, seemed entertained by the back-and-forth. She glanced at you, her expression clearly saying you’re not gonna turn him down, are you?

You bit your lip, feeling torn. You weren’t exactly in the mood to indulge in this whole situation, but something about his persistent grin made you hesitate.

“Fine,” you said, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One drink. But that’s it.”

He grin stretched wider, clearly pleased by your decision. “That’s all I need,” he said.

The last thing you remembered was you and the white-haired man talking. But somehow, one drink turned into five, stumbling back to his hotel room, tearing each other’s clothes off., and now… now you were sitting up in an unfamiliar hotel room, the sunlight streaming in through the blinds, your naked body wrapped in the blankets.

Your head pounded, your mouth felt like a desert, and there was something strange on your left hand.

Blinking, you stared at the shiny ring on your finger. It was real, wasn’t it?

“Wait…” you muttered, trying to recall anything about the night. “What the hell happened?”

You turned, half expecting to see your friend Shoko beside you, but instead, you saw the tall, white-haired stranger sprawled across the bed.

His piercing blue eyes stared right at you, head propped up on one arm as he gave you a lazy grin.

“Good morning, wifey,” he drawled.

You both stared at each other in silence.

Then you screamed. Loudly.

“Ah, geez, tone it down, will you?” he groaned, covering his ears as you scrambled to grab the sheets, wrapping them tightly around your body. You practically fell out of bed, heart racing a mile a minute.

“What… oh my god.” Your eyes darted around the room in panic, then back to him. Your gaze dropped to his bare chest, the blanket barely covering half his naked body. That’s when you saw his hand — and the ring on his finger.

“Did we…?” you whispered, voice trembling.

“Did we what?” he teased, wiggling his fingers at you. “Get married? Looks like we did, sweetheart.”

You froze, staring at him in disbelief. “No. No, no, no, no. There’s no way.” Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to piece together the foggy memories of last night. “I mean, I don’t even know your name! What is your name?!”

He smirked. “Wow, I’m hurt. You were screaming it last night.” He sat up, running a hand through his messy white hair. “It’s Satoru Gojo.”

Your head spun. “Oh my god, this isn’t happening.” You buried your face in your hands. “This was supposed to be a fun trip, and now… now I’m married to a complete stranger!”

Satoru chuckled, clearly amused by your meltdown. “Well, technically, I’m not a stranger anymore.” He leaned back against the headboard, watching you with that infuriating grin. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure it was your idea.”

“My idea?!” You glared at him, eyes wide with disbelief. “There is no way I’d agree to something like this!”

“Well,” he shrugged, “you seemed pretty into it last night. Even called me ‘hubby’ a couple of times.”

You groaned, sinking to the floor as the weight of the situation hit you like a train. What had you done? You tugged the sheets tighter around you, gripping the fabric like it was the only thing holding you together.

“No. No way.” You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that when you opened them, this would all be some ridiculous nightmare.

But when you opened your eyes, Satoru was still there, lounging in bed without a care in the world. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched you unravel. You ran a hand down your face, glancing around the room. Clothes were scattered across the floor, empty bottles on the nightstand, and the faint smell of alcohol still lingered in the air. The hotel room was definitely nicer than you expected — sleek furniture, massive bed, and a window view that overlooked the bright Las Vegas strip.

“You okay down there?” he asked, voice dripping with fake concern. “You look a little pale. Maybe you should lie down. Or better yet, we could cuddle. You know… husband and wife bonding time.”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t. Even. Start.”

He raised his hands in surrender, though the smirk never left his face. “Hey, just trying to be supportive.”

You ignored him, your heart racing as you stared at the ring on your finger. You tugged at it, twisting and pulling, but it wouldn’t budge. “Oh, come on!” you hissed, yanking harder.

“You’re gonna rip your finger off.”

“I’d rather lose a finger than stay married to you!” you snapped, still struggling with the ring.

“Ouch,” he said, clutching his chest dramatically. “You really know how to wound a guy.”

You finally stopped, breathless and frustrated, letting your hands fall into your lap. “This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.”

Satoru stretched, the sheets slipping lower on his hips, and you quickly averted your gaze. “Well,” he said casually, “unless we both had the exact same hallucination and these rings magically appeared on our fingers… I’d say it definitely happened.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning again. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Hey, at least we’ve got a great story,” he said, grinning. “Not everyone can say they got married in Vegas to a total stranger.”

You glared at him. “I don’t want a story. I want a time machine.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the pillows. “Sorry, sweetheart. No time machines here. But hey… at least you married someone hot.”

You ignored him, your brain starting to work through the haze of last night. Then it hit you. “Shoko.”

You scrambled to your feet, sheets still wrapped around you, frantically looking for your clothes. Satoru propped himself up on one elbow, watching you with blatant interest. “In a rush, wifey?” he teased, his eyes lazily trailing down your body. “You’re not trying to sneak out on me, are you?”

You spotted your bra hanging off the lamp and snatched it quickly, cheeks burning. He watched you with a lazy smirk, eyes following your every move. Turning your back to him, you dropped the sheets and hurried to hook it on, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.

“Wow,” Satoru whistled lowly. “Didn’t know I’d get a private show this morning. If I’d known marriage came with perks like this, I would’ve settled down ages ago.”

“Could you not?” you snapped, fumbling with the clasp. Your hands were shaking, whether from embarrassment or rage, you weren’t sure.

“Hey, don’t blame me,” he said, chuckling softly. “Hard not to look when my wife is putting on a show.”

Your face burned. Yanking on your underwear, you grabbed your dress and tugged it over your head, the fabric sliding down your body as you adjusted it into place. You whirled around, glaring at him. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not when I’m this entertained.” He flashed you a grin, resting his chin in his hand as his eyes roamed over you once more. “Gotta say, though… you look just as good putting your clothes on as you did taking them off.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?”

“Never.” He smirked. “But if you want to shut me up, you can just kissed me again.”

You groaned, ignoring his teasing as you spotted your phone half-buried under a pile of clothes. Snatching it up, the screen lit with countless missed calls and texts from Shoko. Heart racing, you unlocked it and scrolled through the messages.

Shoko: OMG I JUST WOKE UP WTF HAPPENED LAST NIGHT

Shoko: WHY AM I IN SOME DUDE’S ROOM??

Shoko: tell me you actually didn’t marry that guy…

Shoko: CALL ME RIGHT NOW.

Before you could reply, Satoru who is now fully clothed, peeked over your shoulder, reading the messages. “Aw, looks like your friend had a good time too.” He grinned. “One of my buddies must’ve kept her company.”

You shot him another glare. “Can you be serious for five seconds?”

“Depends. Can you stop looking so cute when you’re angry?”

You let out a frustrated groan, flopping back onto the bed and covering your face with a pillow. This was officially the worst morning of your life.

taglist: @vehuzzzz @sleepykittyenergy @n1vi @nakiich @artbligh @miizuzu @seternic @luciferlikesducks

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

wicked game

chapter 2 - kappa tau

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: mentions of drugs and alcohol, language

"how are you feeling?" sarah asked as you were doing the finishing touches of your makeup.

"nervous." you replied.

sarah smiled, leaning against the doorframe as she watched you. “totally normal. first frat party jitters. it’s a rite of passage.”

you set your lip gloss down, exhaling. “it’s just… not really my scene, you know? loud music, drunk people, chaos.”

sarah grinned. “oh, it’s definitely all of those things. but that’s the fun of it! you don’t have to be the life of the party, just survive it. and hey, i’ll be right there with you. and i'll introduce you to cleo and kie who you will love.

you met her eyes in the mirror, appreciating how quickly she had taken you under her wing. “thanks, sarah.”

she smiled. “anytime. now, come on, let’s go. you look beautiful.”

with one last deep breath, you grabbed your phone and followed her out the door, the bass of the party already faintly thumping in the distance.

sarah linked her arm with yours as you walked. “okay, quick rundown. frat parties can be a lot. idiotic men, screaming girls, a lot of drunk conversations. but as long as you stick with me, you’ll be fine.”

you nodded, nerves still fluttering. “and cleo and kie? they’re your friends?”

sarah beamed. “yep! they’re the best. i knew them from home. you’re gonna love them. cleo takes no shit, and kie’s the most chill person ever. they’ll have your back.”

that made you feel better. you weren’t exactly shy, but stepping into a house full of strangers, loud music, and whatever else frat parties entailed? that was way out of your comfort zone.

as you approached the kappa tau house, the scene was exactly what you’d expected. just like the movies. people spilling onto the lawn, red solo cups in nearly everyone’s hands, music so loud you could feel the beat in your chest. the air smelled like beer, cologne, and the faintest hint of weed.

sarah squeezed your arm. “welcome to kappa tau y/n.” she then waved dramatically. “there they are!”

two girls turned and grinned when they saw sarah. “about damn time. we were starting to think you bailed.”

“as if i'd miss this,” sarah scoffed before turning to you. "guys, this is y/n, my roommate and our new favourite person.”

“hey, it's so nice to meet you! i'm kie." she said, pulling you into a welcoming hug.

"and i'm cleo." she smiled, "so first frat party?"

you sighed. “that obvious?”

“oh, yeah,” she teased. “but don’t worry, we’ll keep you alive.”

before you could say anything else, a loud voice cut through the crowd.

“ladies!”

you turned just in time to see two guys approaching. one was tall and tan with a cocky grin. the other, a blonde with wild hair and an even wilder energy, practically vibrating with excitement.

“finally!” the blonde boy threw an arm around sarah's shoulder. “we were wondering when you’d grace us with your presence.”

the first boy gave you a curious look before glancing at sarah. “new roommate?”

sarah beamed. “yep. y/n, meet john b and jj.”

“nice to meet you,” john b said with a friendly smile.

jj, however, wiggled his eyebrows. “very nice to meet you.”

kie smacked his arm. “behave.”

jj put a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “i am always on my best behaviour.”

cleo snorted. “that’s the biggest lie i've ever heard.”

sarah rolled her eyes, then turned back to you. “okay, now that the introductions are done, can we please go inside?"

you hesitated for half a second before nodding. “let’s do it.”

kie grinned. “that’s the spirit.”

you piled in together, letting the party swallow you whole. you took a deep breath, scanning the room. it was overwhelming, but there was an undeniable energy to it. you let yourself feel excited.

cleo nudged you playfully. “come on, let’s get drinks. it’s, like, step one of surviving a night like this.”

you nodded, "alright. let's get started.

a/n: i promise rafe will come in soon...

🏷️: @heartzshiftamy @hoefordrewstarkey @luvrclub @yesterdaysproblemm @leleee3 @yktayy9669 @miumiuestmoi @anacamofficial @cokewithcameron @bloodofadoll @shorttandsweett @mysticbby2009 @emmiesummers @wintercrows @drewrry @starkeyxcameron @xxbirkindoll2 @stoned-writer @drewstarkeyslover @hannieskzzz @verycherryblossomhideout @letstryagaintomorrow @@jjsbbg7 @mariamadison6-blog @laniirackssss @xeneasworld @countryclubwhore @drewsphswife @mattyskies @moonywhisp3rs @starkeygirls @lmaolmaos @thereallifebambi @emeloyy @vcnillafairy @rafecameronswhoore @st8rkey @angeldiaryy @therealfairybatman @drewsephrry @vanessa-rafesgirl @dreamybabbyy @pogueprincesa @happy-mushrooms @hannaa20002000 

[honeyblackberries]

In the back seat (18+)

caleb x fem reader/mc smut

minors dni | inspired by diet pepsi by addison rae | cross-posted to ao3

word count: 1466

cw: simp caleb, soft dom caleb, he also likes to bite, pantie freak caleb, reader enables him, praise, oral (fem receiving), p in v, responsible car sex <333 (don't get freaky in a rental car irl), irresponsible intercourse (caleb doesn’t wrap it before he taps it), porn with feelings, porn no plot because idk how to write plot but i also can’t really write porn so maybe this is a secret third thing, no set pov.

names used: pips (pipsqueak but cuter), good girl, pretty girl, my girl

If Caleb is being honest with himself this moment is something straight out of his teenage fantasies. Driving along the coast with you in the passenger's seat, listening as you sing along to a song that’s been on repeat for the past half hour. Hair softly blowing in the wind as the late afternoon sun glows behind you like a halo.

You’re an angel he thinks, how else could you bless him with such a gift on one of his rare days off. The keys to his dream car—with the disclaimer that it was only a rental during his visit to Linkon—and that short sundress… His gaze unconsciously drifts from the road and onto you.

Maybe wet dreams are a better description for this. The way the hem of your dress rides up your thighs while you shift to find a more comfortable position, cotton panties peeking out underneath it.

Your eyes meet his and Caleb feels his pants tighten.

Today was supposed to be a well deserved break from all the demands that come with being the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel. Something relaxing. Yet he can’t help but feel inclined to the complete opposite. Back ramrod straight and hand, previously loose and confident on the wheel, now gripping it so tight that his knuckles strain.

“I'm happy you’re here,” you say sweetly and he has to stop himself from acting like a horny dog. “Is there anything you wanna do before we head home?”

“Eat you out,” he thinks dreamily.

“..What?”

Shit. Shit. How could he say that out loud!? He’s an idiot, a depraved fool—

“Well, okay.”

He almost crashes the car.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to—I mean—I didn’t mean to say it out loud,” you laugh at him and he isn’t sure whether to be mortified or turned on.

“Pull over.” He does.

Caleb doesn’t realise it but despite the less than innocent circumstances his silly reaction makes you smile. Happy at the expression that settles on his handsome face. How his eyes light up in a way you never really see anymore, giddy and unrestrained.

‘Cute,’ you want to tease, but he’s already rolling the tinted windows up. Undoing his seatbelt and moving into the back seat. Oh how could you keep him waiting when he’s just so eager? You undo your own seatbelt and amusedly follow along. Moving to get on top of him.

“Don’t hover pips,” he instructs—in that know-it-all voice he’s used since you were kids—and you don’t get the chance to consider it. Not when his hands trail under your skirt to grab your thighs and impatiently bring you down onto his face.

“Fuck you smell so good,” his nose presses right against your clothed heat. He inhales deeply. “I could get off just from smelling you, just from smelling these,” his lips part to let teeth graze the thin fabric of your panties.

“I can keep 'em when we're done, yeah?” His hot breath makes a shiver run through you in anticipation. His tongue licks down the centre where a wet patch starts to form. “I’ll cook dinner in return.”

You want to argue that he always cooks dinner. But you want what he’s currently offering more.

Your small hum of agreement is all he needs.

Safe to say, Caleb does mouth at you like a dog. Desperate, hungry, tongue heavy and slobbering. You have to push yourself against his chest to keep steady. The toned muscles there flexing as he eats like he’s been starved.

“Good girl, sittin’ so pretty for me,” his praise is barely understandable. Voice muffled and lower than a moment ago.

One of his hands leaves your thighs, his fingers moving to the fabric separating you. He teasingly pulls it back and lets go, a light snap against your skin. You flinch and he chuckles in response. He then pushes it to the side to expose you bare to him. Continuing to lick, this time with the addition of his thumb rubbing directly against your sensitive bud.

“Delicious,” he moans at the taste and sucks at your clit for more.

You’re not sure how long you last before everything crashes down all at once. Your orgasm racking your body and leaving you trembling. Dripping right into his open mouth.

The way your breath hitches and small whines you make when you cum always remind him how he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs. Forever wanting you pliant in his hold like this.

As you start to feel yourself coming down from the high, Caleb lightly bites at your tender flesh, making you yelp. He places a soft kiss in apology, even though you both know he isn’t sorry in the slightest.

In an act of revenge you start to reach for where he needs it. Fingertips barely brushing the large tent in his pants before he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Next time pips, I’ll go crazy if I’m not inside you soon.” At that you’re suddenly flipped around, back pressed against the leather seat. Wedged in the cramped space afforded to you between the car and his large body.

Caleb looks down at you with a wide grin. The lower half of his face damp with your arousal and his own saliva.

“Let me put it in?”

Even when he’s like this the words come out as a question. He’ll only do it if you let him, only if you want it half as much as he does. His silver necklace dangles in front of you and reflected in it is your lips, curled up into an affirmative.

Caleb wastes no time. Hurriedly undoing his pants and freeing his hard leaking cock. Leaning over you with one hand beside your head as the other grasps his reddened tip and nudges you panties to the side with it. Lining himself up he sinks into you slowly.

“You’re heaven,” he yaps, already pussy drunk. "You feel like heaven, ugh—like you were made for me. Weren’t you?”

He shakes his head at his own words, as if a better explanation came to him. Then he resolutely bottoms out inside you.

“No, I was the one made for you.”

“Caleb—” you whine at the feeling of being so full. Arms moving to wrap around his torso, not sure if to hold him closer or push him away.

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to fight off the orgasm that would have had him cumming from the way you say his name. Testingly, he pulls out slightly just to push back in. Repeating shallow thrusts to get you comfortable.

“More,” you beg.

“Of course,” he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him. “I aim to please.” His pace quickens, becoming rough. You can’t help but clench at the immediate change.

“Oh shit—loosen up pretty girl.” You try to.

Over and over you feel his cock try to make your cunt give in to him, and when he feels the grip of your walls ease up slightly he angles his hips to hit deeper.

You claw at his back, the fabric of his shirt catching under your fingers. The feeling of him too much.

“You like that huh?”

The car windows are fogging at the spike in body heat, neither of you letting up until you both get your fill. The sounds of shallow breathing and skin against skin the only thing that can be heard.

Caleb bites your lip when he kisses you in between thrusts. Like he wants to devour you in every way possible.

“I’m—close,” you bury your face into his neck, trying to ground yourself.

He nearly slips entirely out of you. Hips starting to lose their rhythm, a sign that he is too.

“I know—fuck—cum with me.”

Your release comes first, and he doesn’t last long after.

“That's my girl.”

His movements slow as he spills into you. A white ring forming around the base of him as a mix of both your cum tries to leak out. He grinds a few times to make sure it stays then collapses on top of you.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, relishing in the feeling of your chests pressed together as you cool down. Caleb’s cock slowly going limp inside you.

His hands move to cradle your face, gently stroking your cheeks as he kisses all over with cherishing lightness.

“I love you.”

“Love you too Caleb.”

Then he has to go and ruin the moment.

“Panties please,” he holds out his hand. Asking for a treat.

You sigh, the post-nut clarity kicking in. “I’ll give it to you after I wash it.”

“Don’t wash it.”

“...”

a/n: rip need everyone to know this was initially supposed to be a sylus fic. also what do we think do we like me actually trying to make the layout nice/not write in all lowercase??

[inkivaari]

I need to see more conquest with wifey!

Conquest reacts to his baby's or how he reacts to you treating his baby's softly?

Is he relieved or disappointed his kids are going to have a soft side? Maybe he's really fucked and gets jealous😭

𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜 (𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚢! 𝚛𝚎𝚊��𝚎𝚛)

a/n: anon i love you so much, yes yes yes i kiss your mind mwwwwwwwwah! disclaimers: sexual content, childbirth mentions, f! reader, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, violence mentioned, conquest being sweet but in a fucked up way but its okay we love himmmmm

you're in labour for what feels like days, it's a chunky baby even for viltrumite standards. conquest refuses to let his child be born anywhere else. no, you're doing this at home. he does have the sense to abduct provide you with a midwife, but he never lets her leave his sight. he sits beside you in solemn silence, watching. even when you try to joke, and tell him he's not going to like what he sees. he glares back at you. there's no way he's missing a moment of this.

his firstborn child is a son. he was slightly disappointed that it wasn't a daughter, one he could watch grow up into a smaller you. yet, when he saw his child, when he saw his son's eyes open and they were yours, when that bundle began to whimper and cry, and his woman held it close to her exhausted little body, weeping softly herself but with that beautiful, angelic smile... he cried himself. made no excuse, made no apology. never brought it up again.

conquest takes care of you and his son over that bumpy first month. he does so without complaint. nothing is off limits, nothing is too much, nothing bothers him in the slightest. you two were the centre of his universe now, and he who had never had anything for his own, not truly, took ownership with pride. you will want for nothing, his wife in his bed swaddled up with his baby, well fed, calm, happy.

that isn't to say that he's not selfish. it doesn't take long for his loins to ache again, used to being pleasured by you every night. but no, he knows not to press the issue with you, knows that little body like the back of his hand, and knows it must rest and heal. will that stop him lusting for you? absolutely fucking not.

he fists his cock with any item of clothing he can get from you pressed up to his face, his sensitive nose filled with your scent, drool staining the fabric as he bites down into it to muffle his grunts and groans. you were sleeping beside him, after all. you needed your sleep. but that didn't mean he'd deny his own needs, primal and obsessive as they were.

his favourite clothes to do that with were your nightshirts. you'd be all embarassed and whiny when you'd be sitting playing with the baby on the couch and your engorged breasts would begin to leak and stain your comfy tee, hiding them in the laundry basket bundled up with the other clothes so as to hide them from his view. hilarious. he scented them out right away when he was doing the laundry later that evening, and hungrily bring it to his mouth, even the slightest taste of that sweet wifey cream made his cock stand up...

the jealousy began to trickle in after that grace period. he could hardly stand it, seeing you be so soft with that baby. he watched you kiss its little head, squish its cherubic cheeks, hold its tiny hands with a finger and sing little silly songs to it to make it laugh... you had been like that with him a few months ago. there was a time where all you'd do is cling to him for the whole day, naked up against him, whining and giggling as you climbed all over his big body, yowling playfully for attention. but his little kitten was so consumed... too busy being soft with someone else, even if that someone else was half of him. more than half, if we're thinking about the dominance of viltrumite genes in hybrid offspring.

he grumbles disapprovingly when you babble back to the baby, when you tickle its little belly, when you cover it with raspberry kisses as it squeals and smiles... you're indulging weakness, that's his excuse. in reality, he doesn't care if his children inherit the softness of their mother, they're still his progeny, they'll be killers anyway, it's written into their dna to conquer and crush. he's learned that caring for your loved ones only makes indulging that destructiveness all the more satisfying, when you're doing it for a purpose. what he does care about, what eats him alive, is that you're not giving him that softness anymore. the bitterness, the despair, the loneliness that plagued him for centuries, it all comes rushing back. and it gets to a point where he has to leave for a while. days at a time, to let out his anger that he'd never lay upon you in a million years, but had to get out. he slaughters thousands upon thousands, he levels skyscrapers, brutalises and tortures and conquers. until that rage leaves him, and he can go home, exhausted enough to fall asleep beside you without a thought.

but when he returns one night to find you sitting up in bed, weeping softly, he pauses in the doorway. the cot was no longer in the bedroom, you must have moved it to the nursery at last. you look up at him with those wide, wet eyes, and you crawl to the end of the bed, mewling and crying softly. you missed him, where did he go, why did he have to leave, you were so lonely...

it hits him then. he'd been neglecting you too this whole time. consumed in the caretaking, silent for most of the day, only using his voice to reprimand you for being soft, the thing he loved the most about you... and then he'd left you in the house by yourself while he selfishly dealt with his anger instead of talking to you, paying attention to you like you desperately needed him to...

...he could scent your ovulation, too. it had returned, your body was ready to be seeded again. his precious kitten, so beautiful, growing evermore heavenly as a mother...

and so he holds you close as he makes love to you, over and over again, holds your trembling body to his as if you'd fall apart without his touch, explores your body as if it were the first time he'd seen it, worshipping at his wife's altar once more and finding joy in all the new sensations and softness... he caresses your broad, fertile hips with disciplined, reverent hands, maps out the changed walls of your vagina, as if he were acquainting himself to your perfect little pussy all over again, and he finally, finally allows himself to latch his lips to your engorged nipples and savour your most holy milk, liquid gold on his tongue... you were the most perfect, most incredible living thing to exist in this pathetic, inferior universe. you had made life from within yourself, and you had done it for him... the least he could do was worship you for the rest of your lives together.

and of course, give you another. his cum pours inside you many times that night, and the next, and the next... until your son is introduced to his little sister...

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i wrote this instead of going to a lecture i need to be shot......... thank you again anon i need to go lie down...

[softlyposessive]

♡･ﾟ𓏸 Strawhats General Romance HC 𓏸･ﾟ♡

♡ Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Franky, Nami, Robin, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Mild suggestiveness, affection, fluff, a hint of perviness (Franky/Sanji), emotional softness, use of Y/N

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

🍖 Monkey D. Luffy

Doesn’t “get” romance in a traditional sense—just knows he likes being with you

PDA KING: hugs, kisses, clinging, piggybacks, sleepy snuggles—he doesn’t care who's watching

You’re part of his “treasure,” just like his hat or the Sunny

Always shares his meat with you = highest love language

Excitedly shows you off: “Isn’t my partner the coolest?!”

Kisses you out of nowhere just because the thought hit him

Never jealous, but very possessive (“They’re mine, okay?”)

If you’re sad, he’ll do something dumb to make you laugh, no hesitation

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You’re lounging on the grass of the Sunny’s deck, sketchbook resting on your knees, when Luffy drops beside you like a sack of bricks—arms already wrapping around you like he belongs there (because in his mind, he absolutely does).

“Draw me!” he announces, beaming.

“I’m literally in the middle of something—”

“Draw me anyway! I’m cooler than the ocean!”

You raise a brow, unimpressed. “You’re blocking the sun.”

He squints up at the sky, then grins. “Good. Now it can’t burn you. I’m protecting you.”

You sigh, but he catches your smile before you can hide it. He plants a quick kiss on your cheek, grinning like he just won something.

“I like when you smile at me,” he says. “So I’m staying here forever.”

⚔️ Roronoa Zoro

A man of few words, but deep loyalty

Not into PDA… unless he's drunk, injured, or real worked up

Shows love through actions: carrying stuff, training with you, always keeping you in his line of sight

Would literally rather die than say “I love you”… but “I’ll protect you” hits just as hard

Naps with you in quiet corners like it’s the safest place on earth

Notices when you’re upset even if you don’t say anything

Never pressures you to talk—just sits with you in the silence

Compliments are rare but hit like a truck: “You fight good.”

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

It’s quiet in the crow’s nest as you stretch out across the floor, sun leaking in through the glass above. Zoro’s already settled nearby, arms crossed, swords propped neatly behind him.

You close your eyes, letting the warmth lull you. “You always nap here?”

“Sometimes,” he mutters.

You peek at him through one eye. “Because it’s quiet?”

He pauses. “Because you’re here.”

You blink.

He doesn’t look at you, just leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. “...Don’t read into it.”

But when you shift closer, he doesn't stop you. Just opens one hand, palm-up, and waits.

You take it without a word. He squeezes once.

🍳 Vinsmoke Sanji

Peak gentleman behavior: doors opened, chairs pulled, “after you, my love~”

Cooks for you constantly—meals tailored exactly to your tastes

Doesn’t flirt with anyone else once you’re his. Eyes. Only. For. You.

Genuinely thinks you’re out of his league and tries so hard to be worthy

Shows love through service: food, comfort, acts of care

Swoons constantly—every look, smile, or compliment makes him melt

Big on romantic moments: dancing on the deck, candlelit dinners, stargazing

Jealousy is his fatal flaw—he trusts you, but hates other men looking at you

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You lean against the galley doorway, watching Sanji work—spinning pans, slicing vegetables with the grace of a man who was born to impress.

“I hope you’re hungry, mon trésor,” he calls, noticing you. “Dinner is almost as perfect as you are.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “If you keep talking like that, I’m gonna kiss you in front of the crew.”

He stumbles mid-stir.

You walk over, and before he can recover, you lean up and kiss his cheek. He completely shuts down—face flushed, smoke practically curling from his ears.

“I—I wasn’t prepared—”

“You never are,” you tease, sitting at the counter.

He turns away with a lovesick groan. “One day you’ll kill me and it will be delicious.”

🛠️ Usopp

SO frazzled when you get together, he barely believes it’s real

Tries to act cool and confident… ends up stammering every time you smile at him

You had to make the first move—he was too scared of scaring you off 😭

Not a fan of PDA; too flustered—but interlocked pinkies? Yes please

Loves your company while he’s tinkering, especially if you ask questions or bring snacks

Tries so hard to impress you with his tall tales—“Yeah, I once fought a sea king with one hand tied behind my back!”

Wants to protect you… but let’s be real, you’ll probably be the one pulling him out of danger

Will burst into flames if you tease him or call him handsome—please, he is fragile

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You settle beside him as he fiddles with a new gadget, oil smudged on his fingers and one eye squinted shut.

“Is that one of your new noise traps?” you ask, propping your chin on your hand.

Usopp jumps. “Y-yeah! Uh, I mean—of course! It’s… a top-secret, high-powered… thing! For… pirates. Bad ones. Very bad ones!”

You smile. “Sounds impressive.”

He turns pink down to his collar. “W-well, you know me! Captain Usopp! Sniper of the—”

You brush his hair back from his forehead. He malfunctions like a broken music box. “Oh no. No no no. D-don’t look at me like that. I will melt. I will catch fire.”

You giggle and lace your pinky with his, and he just sits there, stunned and smiling like an idiot.

🔧 Franky

HIGH ENERGY BOYFRIEND 🚨💥 but so sweet to you it’s unreal

Constantly hypes you up: “LOOK AT MY SUPER BABE!!”

PDA-heavy but not shy about it being a little saucy 😏

Probably made you a robot heating pad for cramps. Or a body pillow that feels like him. Or a transforming plushie bed.

Loves when you hang out with him while he works—extra points if you hand him tools or wear his goggles

Brings you up in every convo: “Y/N said that once!” “Me and Y/N do that too!” “You know who loves this? Y/N.”

Shows you off to everyone like you’re the best invention he’s ever made

His fridge-chest is your new snack drawer, but ONLY if you’re nice and say “please” with a kiss

Big cuddles, big laughs, and big hands roaming—he’s part cuddle-pillow, part perv, and all yours 💙

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You flop onto his lap as he tightens bolts on his newest invention, arms flinging wide.

“Baaaabe, I’m boooored.”

Franky grins down at you over his shades, one eyebrow cocked. “You’re laying on a human-sized, fully-modified snack vending machine, sweetheart. Bored? Never heard of her.”

You tap his chest and it opens with a satisfying psssht!—a row of your favorite treats neatly stashed inside.

“I rest my case,” he says, beaming like a man who just invented love.

You take a candy bar and nuzzle into his chest. It’s warm. Soft. Heated. Literally.

“Did you mod yourself to be comfier for me?” you ask, squinting up at him.

He kisses your forehead, unapologetically smug. “Damn right I did.”

🧡 Nami

She definitely goes easier on you when you mess up—still scolds you, but there’s a soft spot 🥺

If you’re good and make her laugh, she might even forgive your debts (temporarily...)

Loves being spoiled: praise, kisses, shoulder rubs, gifts—she laps it up like sunshine

Loves styling you up: matching outfits, cute accessories, doing your makeup with soft concentration

Hand-holding in public is a must, especially when she’s dragging you to the next boutique

You will carry her bags. She will kiss your cheek for it, so it's fine.

Late night giggles under shared blankets, secrets whispered while the crew sleeps

She’s a little possessive, but it’s cute—flashes a smile that says “They’re mine, back off~”

She won’t say "I need you"—she says, “Don’t be late coming back, okay?”

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You're perched on the edge of her bed, shirt halfway buttoned, as Nami flits around the room gathering accessories. She returns with a pair of sunglasses and a patterned scarf, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Okay, sit still—don’t make that face, I’m making you beautiful,” she teases, already fluffing your hair.

“Was I not beautiful before?” you ask, mock-offended.

She leans in with a sly grin, her hands sliding to your shoulders. “You were cute. I’m upgrading you to iconic.”

When she’s done, she pulls out her compact mirror and positions you both in the reflection—your outfits perfectly coordinated, colors matching like a magazine spread.

She smiles, satisfied. “Perfect.”

You beam at her.

“Now,” she adds, handing you four heavy shopping bags. “Let’s go out. You’ll be my arm candy and my pack mule.”

You laugh. She grabs your hand.

And honestly? You’d carry a hundred more.

📚 Nico Robin

She’s not subtle with her flirting—loves to watch you short-circuit when she purrs your name

Has so much fun teasing you in front of the crew with sultry whispers and sly smiles

Remembers every little thing you love and weaves it into surprises, snacks, reading recs, affection

Doesn’t do flashy PDA, but always keeps a soft hand on you—knee against yours, pinkies touching

At night, it’s a different story: kisses to your temple, warm cuddles, whispered reassurance

She’s your safety net when you fall apart—calm, warm, and steady

Lets you lay on her chest while she reads, fingers absently brushing your back

Her love is quiet but ever-present. You never have to ask—you just know

She smells like paper and jasmine and home. You’d live in her arms if you could.

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

The ship is quiet, lit only by the soft orange glow of the reading lamp beside her. You curl up beside Robin in the library nook, your head resting against her chest while she flips a page with elegant fingers.

Her heartbeat is steady beneath your ear. Her hand brushes over your arm, slow and reassuring.

“You were teasing me so bad earlier,” you murmur, voice muffled against her blouse.

“I was,” she agrees, not denying it for a second.

You glance up at her, cheeks warm. “It’s cruel how good you are at it.”

She closes her book, setting it aside, and tilts your chin up gently with two fingers. “You’re easy to fluster. And very, very pretty when you’re trying not to show it.”

You sigh, defeated, and press your face back against her, hiding in the scent of old books and jasmine. Her arms come around you without question.

“I don’t always know what I’m doing,” you admit softly. “But I feel better when I’m with you.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Just kisses your forehead and holds you close, lips brushing your skin as she whispers, “Then stay here. You don’t have to know everything. You just have to rest.”

And in her arms, you do.

[othernaut]

My brain isn't silent, but it's... well, okay.

So, first off, I'd like to say that this isn't an endorsement of Recreational Substances, or any use or abuse of said Substances. That said, they are going to play into the story. Sometimes, the normal symphony of neural processes like to play a single chord very, very loudly for a very, very long time; sometimes that chord is "everything sucks, you suck worst of all, let's feel pain about it"; sometimes, the only variation in the monotony is a Substance. If you've had terrible experiences with drugs or depression and don't want to read anything about them at all (or you're a cop), this is that warning.

Excellent. Let's go.

So, one night when I was much younger, after smoking a lot of weed and drinking a little bit, I found a relative's leftover codeine and chowed it down. (this is normally a bad combination, and was probably done on a Tuesday or something, but like I said, depression.) The three depressants were somehow accidentally dosed to a point where the normal, single chord of Pain was muted down to an annoying whine. This was good! It was what I wanted! The thing is, it also muted all my higher processing capabilities - speech and movement was pretty much impossible, all thought seemed to struggle up from the bottom of a vat of petroleum jelly, but that was fine, as all I wanted to do was lay back and enjoy the soft near-silence of an existence that didn't hurt so badly.

In this visibly zonked state, I found myself able to casually wander down to where my brain kept the barrier of sleep and explore the process in conscious detail. With my normal mental players now whisper-quiet, I could toe back the curtain of oblivion while still sorta conscious and observe, with memory intact, what my subconscious mind was doing down there.

To my delight, I found that it sounded like a five-year-old child telling an excitedly purposeless story with no beginning and no end.

"BUT THE UNICORN WAS LONELY AND WANTED TO BE AROUND OTHER HORSES," it said, "SO IT LAID DOWN IN THE MUD BY THE RIVERBANKS UNTIL IT SOAKED INTO ALL ITS FUR AND MANE, BUT IT WAS SO SOFT AND COOL THERE THAT IT FORGOT ABOUT ITS LONELINESS AND STAYED UNTIL THE FIREFLIES CAME OUT, AND THE FIREFLIES SPELLED OUT A SECRET WORD THAT THE UNICORN COULD REMEMBER WHENEVER IT WANTED TO CHANGE ITSELF, BUT THE RIVER REFLECTED THE WORD BACKWARDS AND THE SKY REFLECTED IT DOUBLE-BACKWARDS SO AS THE UNICORN WAS GOING TO SLEEP IT COULDN'T REMEMBER WHICH WORD WAS THE RIGHT ONE, AND THEN --"

Ceaselessly. Little subconscious hands waving around. I could pull back up and observe the world around me, with the painted drywall and stacked bills and ever-comforting night, and then dip my head behind the curtain to find the kid still going at it back there, still telling her story, forever.

Thankfully, I'm not the sort of person who has a fun time on drugs and immediately tries to do it again the next day, all the time, forever (which was also why I put the warning up ahead of time, as I know not all brains operate like that). But for someone whose Pain still and will always tell me how much I suck, how much I don't deserve to be here - it comforts me, to know that at my deepest parts, far past the point of rational thought, I'm just a little kid that wants to tell a story and never wants to stop.

Sometimes, when I meditate the right way, I can go back there and check up on her (meditation being a more reliable and accessible way to find the same effect). She's still down there, hasn't aged even a minute, still going. It's the one thing I can point to in a long lifetime of change that is truly infinite. I have the inestimable fortune of knowing who I am at my core and being able to love that little weirdo deeply and easily.

So, I don't really hear my mental processes all the time, but I know what they sound like. I've somehow gotten Pain to sit down in their assigned seat and wrestled away their volume controls - it's part of the symphony now, limited to pencilling in extra fortes when it wants to be heard. "Symphony" is actually a good metaphor - all the parts mostly play in sync, but if someone decides to randomly insert a solo or I know the piece well enough to remember the score, I can pick out the individual players. And I know who's there behind the curtain, unsupervised and, despite it all, doing okay.

Part of the reason my brain never shuts up is that I can “hear” echoes of my subconscious processing things constantly. And I do mean constantly.

There’s certain things I’m not supposed to know about up here in the conscious mind that the chemicals and the neurons are supposed to be quietly connecting together in the background but my neurons are yelling loudly in echoey hallways

I think the ADHD medication was supposed to quiet down my echoey hallways somewhat but it has done nothing of the sort. I can hear the little men working in the back room furiously trying to string concepts together like pieces from completely different puzzles and they are not subtle about it in the slightest.

[tammyjackson50-blog]

No so secret anymore || G.C

George x reader

<- 2/2

Summary: You and George have been dating for a few months, but you weren't as careful as you thought, and fans started to suspect, and your friends weren't helping either...

___________________________

George’s grin widened, clearly enjoying teasing you. He propped himself up on one elbow, glancing down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know” he started casually, as if it wasn’t the biggest bombshell he could drop, “I don’t really care if we share our relationship with the fans right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him in surprise. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, why not? It’s not like we’re doing anything crazy. I was thinking, maybe we should just post a photo dump of us, y’know, keep it chill. Like a little behind the scenes of us being a normal couple.

You sat up a little, your hesitation clear. “I don’t know, George... I mean, what if some of the fans hate me for it?” You laughed nervously.

He chuckled, his tone softening as he reached out to take your hand. “Trust me, love. If they’re real fans, they’re gonna be happy for us. Besides, there’s always gonna be a few people who don’t like something. But who cares?”

You hesitated for a moment, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "I guess you're right..."

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “And if anyone does get weird about it, we’ll just delete their comments or just ignore it”

You thought about it for a second. You had to admit, the idea of just sharing your relationship felt... nice, even if it meant dealing with a few haters. You looked at him, “Alright. Maybe a little photo dump wouldn’t be so bad after all.”

George grinned widely, leaning in for a quick kiss. “That’s my girl.” He pulled back, clearly proud of himself.

You laughed, feeling a bit more at ease now. “Okay, okay. But if anyone comes for me, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair enough,” he said, already pulling his phone out of his pocket.

You both flopped back onto the bed, now lying on your elbows next to each other.

George unlocked his phone, and you leaned over, curious about what photos he’d picked.

“Alright, love,” he said with a cheeky grin, scrolling through his gallery. “Let’s see your reaction to this one.”

He swiped to a picture, holding it out for you to see. It was a candid shot of you, clearly half-asleep, your hair a mess, and your eyes barely open. But what made your cheeks instantly flush was the fact that the angle caught you in just the right way your shirt had shifted, and your cleavage was visible.

You let out a small laugh, swatting the phone away. “Hey, come on! Can you pick a much uglier picture of me?"

George’s grin only grew wider. “Mate, you look hot, don’t even try to deny it.”

You turned to face him, pretending to be offended. “If you’re showing that, I’m showing something back.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Oh? I’m all for it.”

With a smirk, you grabbed your phone quickly and scrolled through your photos.

You found one, just the right amount of steamy, and turned the screen towards him. It was a picture you’d taken of him during one of your late night hangouts, he looks like he just woke up, his hair is messy, his shirt slightly pulled up, the light catching his body in a way that made him look...well, ridiculously good.

You leaned back, watching his reaction as he took in the photo. His eyes flickered with something more intense than amusement, and for a brief moment, his smile faltered.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “You know what? I think I’m getting a little too into this game.”

You laughed, enjoying the playful teasing. “Yeah? Maybe I should just show you the one that I took when we were on a vacation last y-

“Oh, that’s a dangerous move, love.” George raised his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. “You’re trying to make me lose my mind now.”

You both chuckled, but there was an undeniable shift in the energy. Something about these pictures, these little moments of teasing, made everything feel... charged?

George leaned in just slightly, his eyes flickering between your face and the phone still in your hand. The corner of his lips tugged up, but there was something behind his usual cocky grin something darker, something knowing.

"Alright, if we’re playing that game,” he murmured, swiping on his phone again, “let’s see how bold you really are.”

He turned the screen toward you, and your stomach did a little flip. It was a picture one you didn’t even realize he’d taken.

You, sprawled across his bed, barely covered by the sheets, one strap of your top slipped off your shoulder. The angle made it look more suggestive than it actually was, but it was still enough to make your breath hitch.

Your eyes snapped to him. “George—”

He bit his lip to hold back a laugh, clearly loving your reaction. “What?” he said, feigning innocence. “It’s a great picture.”

You scoffed, grabbing his phone and flipping through his camera roll. “You’re actually insane. How many of these do you—”

And then you saw it. Another photo. This one? Much worse.

It wasn’t explicit, but it was borderline scandalous. You are on top of him, mid movement, your hand braced on his chest, his fingers gripping your waist. The lighting was dim, and it was slightly blurred like it was taken by accident, but the implication was there. Your mouth fell open.

“GEORGE!”

He was already laughing, head thrown back. "Nah, nah, that one’s art, babe"

You turned to him, half shocked, half amused. “You can not have this in your camera roll.”

He smirked, grabbing his phone before you could do any more damage. “Relax, it’s just for me.” His voice dropped just slightly at the end, a playful kind of teasing that sent a shiver up your spine.

You narrowed your eyes, deciding to push back. “Okay then” you said casually, grabbing your own phone. “If you get to play dirty, I have something for you too.”

George raised an eyebrow as you scrolled, finally stopping on a picture you knew would get to him. You turned the screen toward him, watching his face closely.

It was him,his head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth barely parting his lips against your neck.

His reaction was instant. His fingers twitched where they rested on your thigh, his playful smirk disappeared just a bit.

“Oh,” he said, his voice slightly lower than before. He blinked, looking from the picture to you. “Oh, you’re evil for that.”

You grinned. “What? It’s a great picture.”

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, nah, you’re trying to kill me.”

You leaned in just slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “You started it.”

For a second, he just looked at you. Then, without warning, he moved, rolling over you, pressing you into the mattress with a teasing grin. His arms caged you in, his weight just barely hovering above you.

“You really wanna test me, love?” he murmured.

You laughed, not backing down. “Maybe.”

His eyes looked down to your lips for a moment before he kissed you, slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world. His hand trailed down your side, fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt.

Before you could even process it, he grabbed your legs and pulled you down the bed with him, making you let out a surprised gasp. He just grinned, acting like it was nothing, like he didn’t just drag you into him so effortlessly.

Now, with you lying down, he shifted, resting his head against your stomach while lazily scrolling through his phone. His other hand stayed on your hip, fingers tracing random patterns against your skin.

You played with his hair absentmindedly, twirling the strands between your fingers. “You comfortable there?” he hummed, still scrolling. “Mhm. Feels nice.”

He was acting so casual, but the way his thumb occasionally brushed over your skin, the way his grip tightened ever so slightly when you moved..yeah, nothing about this was innocent.

Then, as if proving your point, his hand started drifting lower.

“George,” you warned, voice light but laced with amusement.

He finally glanced up at you, all innocent. “Hmm?”

You gave him a look, and he just grinned, like he wasn’t up to anything at all. But then, before you could react, your phone buzzed, breaking the moment.

You sighed, reaching for it, but George didn’t stop what he was doing. If anything, he took it as a challenge.

You answered, trying to keep your voice steady, but as you spoke, George’s hands wandered higher, slowly tracing up your stomach until his fingers ghosted over your chest.

“Mhm,” you said into the phone, barely processing what the person was saying.

George, still acting like nothing was going on, tapped his fingers lightly against the fabric of your shirt before slipping his hand underneath, his touch warm against your skin. He pressed his lips against your shoulder, completely ignoring the fact that you were in the middle of a call.

You shot him a glare, mouthing " stop it "

He smirked, but his hands didn’t move away. If anything, he gave a slow, teasing squeeze, his eyes flicking up to yours like he was enjoying this way too much.

You ended the call as quickly as possible, dropping your phone onto the bed. “You’re so annoying,” you muttered.

George just grinned. “Yeah, but you love it.”

Before you could fire back, there was a knock on the door.

"Oi, George, you in there?”

It was Chris.

George immediately tried to sound normal, but it did not work. “Uh...yeah?”

There was a pause. Then, a knowing laugh from the other side of the door. “We’re heading out, mate. just letting you guys know.”

George exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, cool, have fun.”

You could hear the smirk in Chris’s voice. “Don’t do anything too stupid.”

“Bye, Chris.”

Footsteps faded down the hall.

He flopped onto his back with a groan. “I swear, it’s like they have a radar for ruining my fun.”

You laughed, rolling over to grab his phone. “C’mon,you love them. let’s continue with the phone dump "

George sighed dramatically but sat up, resting his chin on your shoulder as you scrolled. “Fine. But you have to pick at least one questionable photo of yourself.”

-

You ended up picking a mix of cute, funny, and actually decent pictures, nothing too questionable despite George’s protests. He still slipped in a few cheeky ones, but you let it slide.

As you hit "post" George wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer against his chest. He glanced at the screen, then at you, a smug smile on his lips. “There, now the world knows I’m completely obsessed with you.”

You laughed, “Oh yeah? Think they’ll survive the heartbreak?”

~~~~~~

Hope that you enjoyed it even though it turned out a bit longer than i expected, I didn't know how to end it🙃

Feel free to leave any requests:)

[kawhh]

thoughts on piss kink?... 👀 cuz i have so many thoughts especially dark thoughts

I maaaay have a few thoughts kicking around. (a lot. More than I probably should have)

I don't know how much I class my thoughts as dark, outside of not giving you a choice but to take it. I'm down for darker thoughts about it being sent to me, always.

Warnings: PSA - IF YOU ARE NOT A FAN OF PISS TALK, CLOSE YOUR EYES AND RUN, OKAY?

There's so many aspects to it, so many different ways it can go. My mind wanders more over to Jack with it purely because I think he'd be a little faster at throwing caution to the wind. More likely to just try something with you when he's horny. Wild enough to dive right in.

I feel like he'd try it in the shower first - he'd be in a rush to get ready for practice, not really having enough time to sort himself after. You'd be in there with him since you both like to spend as much time together in the morning as you can before he's busy.

He'd be cautious about it, not wanting to freak you out, but also really needing to piss. Shifting you slightly to the side so you aren't directly in the stream, the sound of the heavy flow hitting the bottom tiles while you're in there with him.. it does something to him. He's hyperfocused. You're even whimpering.. you aren't freaked out at all.

It breaks a part of his brain, dragging him deeper into the possession hole. It's a new thing for him, a sudden new way of owning you more. He's aware that animals do it.. but doing it to you? He'd never fully considered it.

He can't help himself. He can't stop the spiral. It's all he can think about now. How to push you further, how to explore it with you.

Every morning when he wakes up, he's thinking about it. Every single time he's in the bathroom, he's thinking about how it's such a waste when he could be exploring with you instead.

The next time you're showering together? He's forcing you to your knees, your knees harshly hitting the tiles. He needs to be quick, he doesn't have much time before he'll have to waste it again.

You just look so pathetically confused on the floor, whining at the pain he caused your knees, staring up at him with your watery wide eyes. Understanding your role when he grips his cock, leading it to your mouth. You're used to sucking him off, even if it's not often in the shower.

The understanding on your face vanishes as he just rests his cock in your mouth. Every attempt to move by you makes him yank your hair back, trying to keep your head in the same spot. Why won't he let you suck? Won't let you move? How are you supposed to suck him off if he won't let you?

His head's tilted back, his eyes fully closed. He's just staying there, giving you no explanation. He looks like he's muttering something to himself, but you can't make anything out. You're about to try and force yourself off him until you feel the sudden hot stream in your mouth, shooting almost directly down your throat.

Your eyes widen further as you panic, struggling to swallow every drop down when you weren't prepared. Your brain malfunctioning with every drop, the sudden act from him throwing you for a loop. Your thighs squirming together, the knee pain gone from your mind.

Your face is on fire, feeling embarrassed about how much you're enjoying this, enjoying this degrading treatment from him. You're swallowing faster, on a new mission to squeeze as much from him as you possibly can.

He's groaning softly, looking down at you now, watching himself flood your mouth. Even with your faster swallowing, it's still overflowing out the sides of your mouth slightly. There's just so much. He was saving up as much as he could, hanging on until he was ready to burst.

Shaking his dick slightly in your mouth, like he's trying to make sure every drop has been used in the right way, pulling his softening dick out of your mouth.

He needs to keep taking this further with you. Every new step, every new stage only makes his head spin faster. He doesn't know where this peaks, but he has no plans for this to be a one off.

[tiramissyoucake]

And so the Graysons/Catherine crossover begins. This is my dream. And nightmare. I desire a situationship with them. Note that this is almost word for word Catherine narrated with different roles, some scene skipping. All I'm doing is putting it in fanfic format as these 2.

CW: ooc, cheating, implied sex, drunk choices were made and they're not good, Dick is the mystery man in case it wasn't obvious

Sleep was scarce. Work was in abundance. If you've ever felt like you were ever spreading yourself thin in life, this would be its prime. The adorable cafe you sat in overwhelmed you, especially the rhythmic fingers drumming in front of you. You can hear someone talking, were they talking to you?

"Snap out of it!"

Your body jerked in response at the command from your boyfriend, looking up at his concerned expression that bordered on annoyance— shit, did you space off in the middle of a date?

"Were you listening?" His eyebrows furrowed, your eyes refocused on him, a clean white collar neatly adjusted over his blue sweater. Mark always cleaned up nice for your dates.

Guilt swallowed you as you cleared your throat. "Y-yeah. Sorry." A lie and an apology, but he was smarter than that.

"You've been spacing out a lot lately, is everything okay? You seem... off lately." Whenever Mark had a concerned look on his face, you were instantly reminded of a pet dog who was left home alone too long.

You nodded, one hand coming up to rub the strain of sleepless nights out of your eyes. "Sorry, I had to work early this morning..." this excuse wasn't a lie, you've been called in to do more overtime lately.

Concern still evident, but a small smile made its way onto his face. He was happy you were being responsible for yourself, at least it wasn't fatigue from staying up drinking or worse.

"Are you getting anything extra?" His question threw you off-guard, your expression told him everything he needed. "For all the overtime you're doing."

"Oh! N-no, I... usually don't get anything for it." You admitted sheepishly, Mark sighed and glanced away. "Seriously...?"

An awkward guilt hung on your shoulders again, you glanced down at the cutesy cup topped off with some tea, bringing it to your lips though you quickly winced at the bland bitterness. Mark held back a coo at your adorable reaction, opening the equally cute sugar container to pick up to sugar cubes for you. "You never like your tea or coffee without too much sugar, huh?"

A friendly jab, you hoped you were on his good side today... maybe you should ask.

"Hey, Grayson?" You looked up from the dissolving sugar. "Have you ever had a dream where you... died?" He tilted his head curiously, humming in thought.

"Like, where you're in danger? Near-death situations?" You shook your head, sitting up. "No, like where you actually die. Like, get killed?"

Nothing came to mind as he thought of his dreams, one did invoke a smile, one that said that he knew he shouldn't be smiling "No, usually I do the killing in my dreams."

You let out an uncomfortable laugh, his smile was lovely but paired with his words. "Yeah, haha..! That sounds like you..!"

A small quiet fell over your table, his palm came down onto the table with a sigh. "What's that supposed to mean?" You grew quiet, unable to respond, so much for friendly jabs.

"... Hey, how long have we been together?" Mark asked as he glanced away, dread loomed over you like a wave of cold water. How long HAS it been? You've been together so long you completely forgot.

"Hmm..! How long?" You tried to playfully shoot it back to him, as if it was a rhetorical question, he looked at you with a sigh. "I'm asking YOU."

Yikes, no use beating around the bush. You were glad he chose to continue. "It's just that... Mom's been calling me a lot lately asking how we're doing."

The memory of his mother came to mind, a no-nonsense woman. "Oooh..." You hummed, Mark elaborated. "She's just worried about me, she knows my job keeps me busy."

You had a feeling you weren't going to like where this conversation was going. Mark looked away nervously, you could see a red dust his cheeks. "I know things are easy right now and it's more comfortable to keep them this way, but..."

"W-well y'know what they say, Simple is best! Right...?" It was a weak argument but he couldn't retort, things were easy, not complicated. "I suppose you're right..."

You didn't miss that tone in his voice, one that learned for more.

. . .

"Sounds to me like he finally wants to tie the knot with you." Your friend responded after you relayed the events of your date to her, a tired groan escaped you. "You think so, too?"

She scoffed as she held her drink up to her lips. The booth you sat at in the bar you frequented offered little but enough privacy. "What else could it mean? Asking how long you're together, mentioning his mom? I can never imagine you as a married woman."

You shook your head, baffled. "No! No, it's not official yet. I love him, but I feel like... running into a marriage together? Everything feels... comfortable, right now."

"Does it though?" She coaxed the truth out of you, you looked away in guilt. "That's how he phrased it too."

You took a small sip from your cup. This went down easier than the bitter tea. "He's always been... the goody-two shoes type, I thought he worried more about the people around him to care about things like... marriage."

"You honestly thought he'd stay like that forever?" You almost groaned, this wasn't a good look for you. "That's not that I mean! You're one to talk for a single girl."

"I'm still looking for my soulmate, and if I never find them? I never get married, easy." She shrugged. You wished you were as clear on your intentions as she was.

The conversation died as you both drank in silence, almost painfully so. She decided to drop another uncomfortable conversation, though bound to be more interesting than your boyfriend dropping hints. "... did you hear about Olivia? She's dead."

Your eyes went wide as you recalled her, nice girl, you barely knew her but you knew she had issues with her husband. "THAT Olivia?! When..?!"

"Yeah, 'just got out of a divorce' Olivia. Apparently her mom found her dead in bed this morning." Your heart plummeted to your stomach, the two of you glanced at the TV that recounted the mystery death that happened this morning. "... shit, that was her?"

You thought life would start looking up for her after finally divorcing her husband, you're not sure but you heard rumors of an affair. You're not exactly in the best position to judge, you have your own boyfriend to worry about.

Your friend left you to your own thoughts citing she had work early, as if sitting alone in a busy bar in a booth wasn't pathetic as is, you were too preoccupied with your conversation earlier today with Mark.

"How long have we been together?"

You texted back and forth with him after getting a moment to yourself. Although they were more hints, he saw some friends today and you could practically hear the wistful sigh as he recounted how they had golden or silver bands around their fingers, some of them were expecting children or already had children. And a scolding telling you to get home soon from the bar, he knew you too well. Scarily well.

He was a sweet guy, a great lover... but were you ready for this? You changed jobs, he was so focused on his, and you were happy to have a moment of solace with him (a date or two, the check-in texts, the times he came over...).

You lowered your glass, feeling someone approach you. You weren't expecting any of your friends to come, and you hadn't invited Mark to come either.

"Hi, you mind if I sit here?" You look up, blinking tiredly.

He was tall, smiling down at you with soft blue eyes. You saw hints of dimples framing those pretty lips. Jet black hair that fell just right, unlike your boyfriend's usual neat styling. You couldn't tell if this guy had a tan or if the warm lighting of the bar made him seem more inviting. He was muscular. The tight black shirt let you know that he was angular as well- How can a man have a better waist than most women you've met?

There's no harm in the company. It's not like you were busy.

. . .

"Shouldn't you be happy if you two are together? Marriage is just tradition. It's like a relationship with extra paperwork and bland jewellery." The man swivelled the ice in his cup as he responded to your worries. You were glad someone understood. "It's less daunting, better to be free, right?"

You were surprised he understood your viewpoint. "Odd, most men are in a rush to 'claim' their women with a ring on her finger, all they can think about is marriage. But..." You lowered your cup, he looked like he enjoyed having your eyes on him too much.

"There's men like you out there, who would've thought?"

"C'mon, I'm not that weird, am I?" He leaned forward on his arms, flexing slightly under the movement. "I'm not so insecure that I need to wife up whoever I'm with to make sure she's mine."

"I'll keep that in mind." Your hands grew busy as you tugged out a box of cigarettes, a shameful habit, but how shameful can it be when you're in a bar full of people who definitely had responsibilities they were avoiding?

You almost dropping the later and the cigarette from between your lips when he suddenly appeared next to you. "Thank goodness, we're the same."

The mystery man paid no attention to your body staggering back from his sudden appearance, picking up his glass and finally drinking down the entire beverage in one go, taking his time and allowing your eyes to rake over him in an alcohol-infused haze, he looked too... ethereal, was he really a man? He lowered his glass, the ice clinking together as he let out a satisfied sigh.

You were staring, you should look away. He made eye contact with your staring, you should REALLY look away.

"What is it?" Fuck.

"Nothing— I'm just... spacing out." You quickly glanced away, he didn't like that.

His elbow that helped his hand prop up his cheek shuffled closer as he moved near you, landing on your drink's coaster- it slipped right out from underneath and dragged him smackdab against you.

Your hands instinctively went up to hold him up, one around his shoulder and the other on his chest, the man let out a small laugh. "Thanks.. you're so sweet."

What were you doing? "Hey, uh- I gotta go, I have work early tomorrow—?!" Your hand that was supposed to be off his chest by now was trapped underneath his, his hand held yours closely to his chest, you can feel the contours of his muscles.

"I really have to get home now and... I.. had fun talking to you—" your breath hitched as he guided your hand down his firm chest. You could feel his defined form over the cloth, his hand pressing yours closely to his body

"You must like what you see." His voice was low, only for you to hear. You quickly retorted. "I'm not staring!"

"You're a bad liar..." his free hand came up to guide your chin to look at him, those lips you noticed the moment he approached you closing in to yours, you were dumbfounded as he pressed his lips to yours, it would've been innocent, but you know both of you shouldn't be here right now.

The cigarette quivered in your hand, he parted from you, licking his lips. ".. you taste like smoke, not that I mind..."

You prayed your string of nightmares had ended and this was just some guilty pleasure dream.

. . .

This was a nightmare, nightmare after nightmare. Your head hurts from the alcohol, the late night... God, what time was it?

As you sat up, you realised your pillows and sheets felt way too heavy. Arms were locked around you, warm skin pressed to your own... did you invite Mark over last night?

Those familiar lips, that black hair that was tousled perfectly. This wasn't Mark. Sitting up, panic rattled your entire being as you registered who this was; the mystery man from yesterday. Naked. In your bed. In your apartment. You slept with someone who isn't your boyfriend. You got shitfaced drunk and cheated. This isn't good.

"Mmh..? What isn't good?" You hadn't realised you were mumbling to yourself and that he was awake. A stutter spilt out of your mouth as you tried to recover. "Y'know! This..? Er, hooking up...? After we just met..?"

The mystery guy hummed as he was lying on your pillows like he belonged there. "... is this gonna be a problem then?"

Your mind rattled for any excuse, you two were just drunk. Drunk and lonely. This was a mistake. You just needed to clear things up with this guy first—

"Woah- hey! hey...!" You gasped as he sat up to straddle your waist. He was being too playful. Can he not see the distress on your features..?

"... last night was really fun," he started with a smile. "But.. don't get the wrong idea about me, OK? ... I came here because I like you."

You couldn't respond, how do you respond? He practically had hearts in his eyes as he looked down at you, it didn't help that you could feel everything— and you mean everything — pressing against you.

"L-Look, this is my first time doing something lol this— a-and you're great, really..! You're..." You heaved as he hung on every word, biting his bottom lip. "Just... not what I'm used to and... god- what do I even say...?!"

"Not what you're used to...?" He chuckled, his finger tracing shapes at your collarbone. "So... would you say this is love at first sight?"

He didn't wait for a response as he leaned closer to press his lips to your neck, a whimper escaping you, you brought your hands up to his shoulders to attempt to remove him, jolting when he did it for you and sat up quickly.

"Wait! You said you have to go to work, right?!" Jeez, where did this ethic come from? He quickly removed himself from you to get dressed. You sat up with a lot of hesitation as you watched him hurry, still retaining some sense of grace as he moved about. "I have to go, I have a whole meeting thing at work and my boss, he uh.. he'll get really mad at me if I'm late!"

He pouted as he adjusted his hair in your mirror, looking at you through the reflection. "I guess that'll have to wait until next time, huh? See you soon!"

"Wait! I'm actually—" the door slammed shut as he left, your explanation that you're already dating someone left unattended.

This is bad, this is really bad.

[themilfsland]

Here we go again | chapter 2

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff X female!reader

Summary: Your path keeps colliding with Wanda, making you wonder if she feels the same way you do or if she even remembers anything. You will have to wait for an answer.

Words count: 2.9k

warning: none

A/n: I tried to make something different with the narrative, so I add some parts as Wanda's POV, but mostly is readers. Please coment if this way is confused/boring, then I can change for the next chapters.

The song lyrics for this chapter is "Angel Eyes" - ABBA

fic menu / chapter 1

"Wanda?"

Her face was expressionless. if she was surprised to see you there, she hid her reaction very well.

"Y/n! What a surprise to see you here!" — she smiled, but her expression remained unreadable. — "Well, let's not keep you waiting. Let me check your room and help with your luggage."

Check-in was done, and Wanda offered a tour of the place—it was truly stunning - the restaurant, the lounge, the game room, and even a cozy little library. Every room had large windows, letting natural light flood in while the fresh breeze played with the curtains.

There was only one problem in that paradise—Wanda. You were trying your hardest to act normal in that situation, but you were probably failing miserably with your awkward smile. On the other hand, Wanda seemed completely at ease, as if running into you didn’t affect her at all—and deep down, that was bothering you.

"Alright, here’s your room." — She handed you the key, and as you reached for it, your fingers brushed against hers. You wondered if she felt the same thing you did. — "This room is great, it has a beautiful view of the sea. I hope you enjoy your stay. If you need anything, I’ll be at the front desk."

Just as she was about to leave, your curiosity won over, and the words escaped your mouth before you could stop them.

"Wanda"

"Hm? Yes?"

"So, you moved? Are you living here now?"

"Oh, yes. Not too far from home, right? But yes, I've been living here. Not too long ago, though." — Her voice saying "home" kept echoing in your head.

You didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation either.

"Well, that's good for you, I guess…"

"Yeah, thanks. I’ll be on my way then, got other things to do. See you around." — She turned, indicating that the conversation was finished.

--

"Okaay, what was that?" — Yelena said, closing the door to the room. You threw the luggage on the floor and headed for the balcony door, needing to breathe.

"Y/n, talk to me. It's her, right? Wanda?" — She followed you to the balcony. — "Well, you have good taste, she's really beautiful."

"Shut up, Yelena!" — You kept your back turned to her.

"Ok, ok, sorry. But it’s not my fault you didn’t have any more pictures of her to show me, so I had to use my imagination. Anyway, she surprised me."

The one time you confided in her about your romantic history with Wanda, you had to leave out some details and tell a few little lies, like saying you didn’t have any photos of her anymore — lies. Now, you felt a sharp twinge of guilt for not being completely honest with your best friend. Maybe it wasn’t just with her that you hadn’t been truthful — perhaps you weren’t being honest with yourself, either.

"If you don’t want to talk, that’s okay too." — She stayed by your side. — "You know, I just want to help you."

You turned to her, locking eyes. — "Then we’re leaving." — You replied firmly, your steps heavy as you made your way toward the room.

"What? No, no, Y/n!" — She grabbed your arm. — "Look at me. You’re not thinking straight. Breathe. Come on, with me." — She started breathing deeply, guiding you to follow her rhythm.

After a few deep breaths, the two of you sat down on the bed.

"So… do you want to talk now?"

You let out a deep sigh. — "I don’t know what to say. It’s her, in the flesh, it’s Wanda."

"Alright… it's her… but you have to remember that what happened between you two is in the past. You’ve moved on, and so has she. You’re both adults now."

"But… but…" — Your words seemed to be trapped in your throat, a wave of frustration and anger starting to course through your veins. — "Did you see how she reacted when she saw me? I looked like a stranger to her. This is ridiculous. I should’ve known from the start that she was like this. I was too pathetic to believe her words. We made plans together!! And then, in my last attempt when things got harder, I went to her house, but that guy, the son of the owner of the place where her family set up their business, told me she didn’t want to see me and had already made her decision. So…"

"Wait, what?" — Yelena interrupted you. — "You never told me about that last part."

"No? Well, maybe because it’s too humiliating. My clown face, staring at that boy — her future boyfriend. Everything was planned, and I was the one who didn’t fit into her story. The worst part was having to hear her last words through his mouth."

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn’t know." — She held your hand. — "Those were her choices, not yours. Whether she regrets it or remembers that time, it’s not for you to know. But you can’t let her affect you like this. She’s in the past."

Yelena's words felt like thorns, but deep down, you knew they were the truth, and she only wanted what was best for you.

"Thank you, Yelena. I needed to hear that. It’s just… it hurts to remember all the good times when I thought I could never live without her."

"Oh, little thing, I know, heartbreaks aren’t easy. But you’re strong, a determined person. And we’re here in this amazing place to have fun and make the most of it." — She said, standing up and pulling you with her. —"Come on, positive energy. No sad faces. Whether Wanda is happy or not, that’s not our problem. Our focus is on us." — She started walking toward the door, holding your hand to make sure you followed. — "Let’s grab something to eat and check out the beach. The next few days will be great, I promise."

---

POV Wanda

Agatha jumped out of her chair as she heard the door being violently thrown open.

"She’s here, she is fucking here."

Another loud noise as the door slammed shut.

Wanda’s body seemed to dissolve like sand onto the couch in the hotel’s office. Agatha remained motionless, sitting behind her desk — she was the owner and manager of the place, and during her free time, she also indulged her talents by mixing drinks at the bar. Her eyes were fixed on Wanda, so confused that she couldn’t say a single word.

She probably said something else, but it was impossible to understand the muffled sound through the pillow.

"Okay, okay, what’s going on? And who is she?" — Agatha stood up and walked toward the sofa.

More muffled and incomprehensible sounds. Agatha rolled her eyes and pulled the pillow completely off Wanda’s face.

"Wow, your face looks terrible. I guess 'she' must be a ghost you just saw." — Wanda let out another frustrating grunt and covered her face with her hands. — "Ok, sorry. Something bad happened. I’m all ears. Tell me." — She pulled Wanda's hands away, now staring at her.

"She’s here. It’s Y/n, she’s here at the hotel."

"Wait a minute. Y/n??? You mean that big love of yours?"

"Shut up. She’s not my great love. She’s ridiculous. She left me, don’t you remember what I told you???"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. You were in love and made plans for the future, but then she told your guy she was leaving and didn’t even want to speak to you directly."

"Yes, she left me, and no, Vision is not my man. Please, you know that whole other story with all the details, we don’t need to talk about it again."

"I know, I know, my bad. I just want to say that you made great memories with Y/n and then with Vision, and both are in your past. There’s no reason for this to shake you now, you’ve moved on, and I’m really proud of you."

"Thank you, Agatha. But why would she be here? Exactly here?"

"Hmm, I don't know… This is a tourist spot, anyone could come here. Is she alone?"

"No… there’s another woman with her."

"Oh, so it's a honeymoon."

"What? Are you crazy? They’re not together like that, why would they be a couple???"

Agatha noticed the shift in Wanda's tone of voice.

"I don’t know. Maybe because this is a place couples usually visit? And what if they were a couple? Didn’t you say you didn’t want to know about her anymore and that you didn’t care? It seemed to me like you had gotten over her years ago."

"Of course, I’ve gotten over her, and honestly, her personal life doesn’t interest me."

The seconds of silence felt eternal. Wanda sat down on the sofa, now next to Agatha. A sigh of frustration escaped her.

"Alright, no bad mood here. I know seeing her again made your heart tremble a little, and there’s no point in denying it, I know you. But I won’t force you to open up about your feelings right now, you need to breathe a bit."

Agatha stood up, pulling Wanda’s hands to get her to stand as well.

"Let’s go buy some sweets for you to eat."

"You know, something with alcohol would be more welcome right now."

Agatha let out a laugh as she walked toward the office door. — "First of all, I believe it's still too early to drink, and second, I think you forgot the simple detail that you can’t do that." — She left the door open, signalling for Wanda to follow her.

"Ugh, sometimes you’re so boring."

---

"Everything here is perfectly perfect. I feel like I’m in a summer movie." — Yelena said, walking beside you while swinging a shopping bag — this is what she said she wouldn’t spend too much on during the trip. — "Now I get the feeling you have about this place."

"See? I’m always right." — You winked at her. — "I’m just looking forward to seeing you wear that hat you just bought. It’s so out of your style."

"Are you mocking me? I can't believe it, what a terrible friend you are!!!" — She pulled the hat out of the bag and put it on her head. — "See? This is style." — She struck a pose. — "It’s not just you and your love who have a beach vibe."

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. — "Honestly, Yelena. Can you just be quiet for one second?" — You knew she was just playing around, but deep inside, your mind brought back images of you and Wanda watching the sunset by the beach. It was a nice memory, and you allowed yourself to enjoy the warm feeling that came with it.

"Where's your sense of humor? I feel like my best friend got swapped out on this trip. Come on, Y/n, you’re not like this. Just relax."

Before you could respond, she pointed ahead and said, — "Ice cream!! Let’s get some. Look, I’ll grab that table for us to sit at, you make the order." — Not giving you a chance to argue, she headed toward the table. — "Find a refreshing flavour for me, like some natural fruit, lemon or mango, I don’t know. Just pick something tasty."

--

You placed your order and stood waiting by the counter. Your thoughts were calmer now. The walk and fresh air had really done you good. Even though it wasn’t your hometown, you felt welcome, almost as if you were at home. The view of the sea, the tranquillity, people laughing and having fun – it was your place of peace.

Thinking of your hometown brought Wanda to your memory. You tried to focus on the good moments—the first date, the walks together on the beach, the meals you cooked together, everything when it was still good, just you and her. But then, your memories unravelled as your vision adjusted to the sight of Wanda right there in front of you.

"Oh, hi there." Her voice was soft as if it was meant only for you to hear.

It took you a few seconds to process that she was actually standing there in front of you and not just a figment of your imagination. Her scent was the same as always—the smell you had once been addicted to. She was closer now, even more so than when you had met earlier. You could see every detail of her face—your eyes tracing every feature, like watching a favourite old movie replaying. Soon, a wave of sadness washed over you, mixed with a bitter tinge of anger—bad memories consuming you. How was she able to make you feel all the good and bad things at once?

"Are you okay?" Her voice again reminded you that you hadn’t responded. "Don't tell me you're remapping the stars." She let out a soft laugh, easing the tension in the air.

That phrase made your stomach twist—"remapping the stars"—it was what you always said to her whenever you found yourself admiring her face - when her face was so close to yours. And sometimes, your fingers would trace her skin, caressing every part: her lips, her eyebrows, her mouth, her nose. Every touch of yours, you said you were mapping the stars.

Why did she say that? Does she remember everything like you do? But how unfair and painful it was for her to say that to you. You swallowed hard, feeling your throat tighten. You forced yourself to give the bare minimum of a response, acting as if it hadn’t affected you at all.

"I'm waiting for the ice cream that Yelena ordered."

"Oh, of course."

You noticed how her expression and mood shifted suddenly. Then, you found yourself questioning what could have caused this change—was it because you mentioned your friend's name? Is she imagining things about you two? Or is it you who’s imagining things?

The uncomfortable silence was broken when the attendant appeared at the counter holding an ice cream.

"Vanilla with chocolate chips? Whose order is this?"

"It’s hers." You said without thinking, so spontaneously that it even surprised you.

The attendant handed her the ice cream, she took it- a surprised glance came your way.

"How did you know?"

"Oh, um, I guess your favourite flavour hasn’t changed then." You forced a laugh to lighten the moment.

She just nodded. "See you around, then. Bye."

---

"Sooo… aren't you going to tell me?" Yelena said, savouring her ice cream.

"Tell you what?" You tried to play dumb.

"Seriously, y/n? I saw everything."

"Everything? What did you see then?"

"Are you playing the fool? Alright then, I saw you talking to Wanda and the way you were looking at her." She raised an eyebrow as if challenging you.

"And what kind of look would that be?"

"Okay, look, if you don’t want to talk about what just happened, we can stop here. I’m just trying to help and understand." Her dry tone definitely irritated you. "But I saw your look to her like you were going through a whirlwind of emotions all at once."

"It’s just… I… she… it’s totally her fault! Did you look into her angel eyes?? one look and you're hypnotized." You tried to justify yourself, but as soon as the words left your mouth, you immediately regretted it.

"Wow, are you trying to justify yourself, or are you convincing me that you still have feelings for her? I’m confused now."

You took a deep breath, trying to understand your feelings—the truth was, you didn’t know the real answer to her question.

"I don't know, it's just that every time I see her, will it bring back all the pain?"

You sounded sincere, and Yelena nodded, giving you the space to organize your thoughts.

---

POV Wanda

"Perfect, Agatha. Of all the places here, she was there, making an order."

"This time, you can't blame me. It was you who wanted ice cream, and here we are."

"Okay, but why didn’t you come wait with me? You said you were coming right behind."

"I know, but then I saw you start interacting with someone — y/n. So I thought it was better not to intervene."

Wanda stopped walking, standing still and staring at Agatha with her arms crossed.

"Honestly? The conversation seemed to be going well between you two. What happened in the end?"

"What happened? I don’t know, she was just there waiting for her order—the ice cream for that other girl." - Wanda emphasized mentioning Yelena, and Agatha noticed.

"So, are you jealous? You don’t even know that other girl properly."

"I’m not jealous!!! And I don’t care about that other girl or anything. I don’t care, okay? Even though she always used to look at me that way. I guess it’s a game she likes to play."

"Okay, Wanda. If you say so. And honestly, maybe you’re seeing things that aren’t there. Maybe it’s your heart speaking this time."

Wanda chose not to continue the conversation. She ignored Agatha and turned, heading back to the hotel. She savoured her ice cream—her favourite flavour, vanilla with chocolate chips. The last words of her friend replayed in her mind—heart? Oh silly and fool heart. "She took my heart, now I must pay the price," Wanda whispered to herself.

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@starrycherie ; @raven-ss ; @swaqcenix ; @milflovers4