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chrollohearttags · 1 month ago

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hard to breathe • portgas d. ace

seeing your ‘ex’ boyfriend ace one last time for closure..or so you thought. (based off of this song I’ve been obsessed with for months. It’s ‘old’ but I felt like it fit him and the vibe of this fic)

📝: black fem!reader, lots of relationship angst, modern au, heavy kissing, arguing + lots of dialogue, they’re slightly toxic ( y’all both ain’t shit I’m sorry 😭), riding, car sex, dirty talk, breeding, baby trapping (kinda), infidelity, hair pulling, pet names and daddy used, crying

wc: 4.1K

🎙️: I love writing my faves in a bunch of different scenarios, including ones that aren’t typical for their personality. This is in no way condoning toxicity, infidelity or anything of the sort. I just thought it would be a lil fun to experiment.

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“Where are you right now?”

“I should be with you..”

“You know that’s not a good idea..”

“Yeah, but it’s what we both want..who cares if it’s wrong or not?”

3:30am

the deep drawl on the other end of the line luring you in with each word..it always had a tendency to do so, even when you wished you could just ignore it.

“Ace, what the hell do you want from me? Stop this.”

“C’mon, babe. It’s the truth. Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty..what did I tell you? You’ve got to stop giving so much a damn about what other people think.”

“Go to hell. Not everyone can just mistreat people like it’s nothing.”

it was a shame honestly..this type of behavior was so unbecoming of both of you. A sweet girl who didn’t like to make much of a fuss for anyone or over anything. And him, the shining example of a stand up guy. Charming, kind, helpful, a little rough around the edges but what every man should strive to be. Yet here you were..whispering into the speaker of your phone as to not wake the one in the room next to you. A mere replacement to dull the ache in your heart caused by him and his stupidity. Meanwhile, he was chuckling in your ear. Seemingly teasing you because he could sense the tension in your shaky voice. He knew you’d bolt the second you heard a ruffle from the other room…but he also knew you’d never hang up. Knew you couldn’t resist answering in the first place and for damn sure, that you couldn’t resist his offer…

“I want to see you. I can be at your place in ten..”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? It’s late, Ace..and—“

“And what? Afraid your little boyfriend might wake up? I know it’s not because you don’t want to see me either.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that? How dare you? You ended things, Ace. Not me. So why the fuck do you keep hitting me up?”

the line would fall silent for a moment..only the shallow echoes of your breath captured on the opposite end. That was until you’d hear a sigh and his voice once more. This time with a much less arrogant tone.

“Listen, (y/n)..I get it. I fucked up..it’s my fault things turned out this way and I’m sorry. I know I can’t go back or change anything that happened between us but I can try to make it right. Even if it means someone else gets to do what I couldn’t…I just wanted a chance to apologize. In person…which I should’ve been man enough to do from the jump.”

the things in question? Your relationship..a bond of three years to be exact and a union everyone was certain would end in the two of you walking down the aisle. However, life has a funny way of throwing even the biggest of curveballs. This man had all but swept you off your feet one night a few summers ago..both out with friends and enjoying the night life as young singles should. Drinking, laughing and having a blast. Even though you were a bit more on the reserved side, he still managed to spot you out of all the beautiful women in that club that night. And trust, a fair share of them had been vying for his attention. Even so, he couldn’t focus on anyone but you. That was one of Ace’s many wonderful qualities. In a room full of people, he managed to make you feel special..as if you were the only one there. Which wasn’t exactly intentional..his biggest issue was that he tried to be friendly, trying his hardest not to hurt anyone’s feelings anymore. He struggled with his anger quite a bit when he was younger, taking next to nothing to set him off and if he was in the midst of conversation with one person, it was best that no one else tried to interrupt. However, he realized that only caused trouble so he always tried to greet someone regardless. It just didn’t fare very well when it came to women. No girl wants someone that it seems everyone can access to!

But alas, you sat in that section next to him; nursing your drinks and exchanging pleasantries. He was so easy to talk to. He had this awkward yet charming charisma about him. Almost as if despite his good looks, he wasn’t the ‘ladies man’ you’d peg him to be off first glance. Somehow though, he managed to get your number and the rest was history. You began hanging out, going on a couple dates..even spending a weekend together after a bad storm trapped the two of you inside of his apartment. You really enjoyed being around him and as time passed, the bond grew stronger. Six months later, you came over to visit and found yourself greeted by smoke and an obviously frustrated Ace covered in soot..a result of him attempting to cook a dinner to formally ask you to be his girlfriend! It was those goofy yet sweet gestures that made you adore him.

perfectly flawed was the best way to describe him in your book…maybe he made mistakes and maybe he didn’t come from this picturesque family but he was a damn good guy doing his best to be better than what he was used to. He was a hard worker and willing to fight for what he wanted.

You cherished every moment you guys got to spend together and at one point, you even got matching tattoos of half hearts on each of your hands..however, things began to crumble in the once ideal world you had curated together.

going from laughing all the time to petty arguments that seemed intentional. From spending late nights together..making love until the sun shines over your bodies..now you were blowing up his phone to see where he was. You began to suspect that he was cheating. Perhaps somewhere with another woman. But you were wrong..truth be told, he was running.

running away from a healthy home and relationship because he didn’t know how to handle it. Didn’t know how to process being loved unconditionally without expecting the worst to happen…he never figured himself to be good enough for you to begin with but here you were..constantly showering him with affection; buying him gifts, making his favorite meals and even surprising him with massages after long, stressful days at work. You were everything he didn’t deserve! Hence why..he felt the need to blow it up before it could escalate. He couldn’t let you continue treating someone like him as if he were special. Three weeks later, he texted you asking to break up and to say you were devastated? Was an understatement. You loved this man so damned much, you had already begun looking at wedding dresses and contemplating baby names, figuring you guys were in this for the long run. But fairy tales don’t exist and you weren’t getting the story book ending. Instead, you were left heartbroken..trying to piece yourself back together and figure out what went wrong.

“Just one last time, that’s all I’m asking. I want to say I’m sorry and then I’m out of your hair for good, I promise. I won’t bother you ever again..”

a solid compromise, you supposed. Besides, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to look him in his eye and tell him to go fuck himself for how he fumbled you. He’d plead, calling your name until he got a response and finally:

“I’ll be in the lobby, call me when you get here.” Before disconnecting the line and releasing a heavy sigh. You fought back tears but in order for the next chapter of your life to begin, you had to finish this one. But the funny thing about some books…

is that they refused to remain closed!

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page break bc I don’t do filler

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“..it’s nice to see you again. You look beautiful as always—“

“Enough of the small talk. State your business and make it quick.”

the two of you sat parked outside of your luxury apartment complex, downstairs in the desolate parking garage. Your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner and his stretched across the steering wheel..that goofy snark on his face as he kissed his teeth. He knew you were fighting so hard to stand firm in your boundaries, something you struggled with in the past. And truthfully, he hated to disrupt that peace…but he was selfish, gluttonous even. He wasn’t always this nice guy everyone saw him as. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too and if that meant he’d leave your head a mess once again then so be it. A fucked up sentiment but the truth nonetheless..

“…damn. It's like that then? Fair enough..”

turning in his seat, Ace shifted and focused his attention directly on you. It was hard to maintain eye contact because how could he face you after such a betrayal? Even so, this was his bed he made and it was time to lie in it.

“The truth is...I was afraid. One day, you’d wake up and realize that I wasn’t what you thought I was. That I was broken and I didn’t have my shit together. It’s like no matter what I did in my life, I found a way to fuck it up. Make a mess of things..I’m not like you, (y/n). Honestly, what could you possibly see in me? Don’t you want someone who’s your equal?”

by this time, tears were beginning to swell in his eyes as well. The more he spoke, he realized that these feelings of insecurity were always within him. You promised yourself that you were just going to give him a piece of your mind, storm out and never have to see him again. But it was never that easy with this man.

you knew he was genuine and not just trying to victimize himself. He honestly felt like you could do so much better. But he also knew by the look in your eyes that you were not going to let him get away so easily.. You didn’t hate him, hell, you couldn’t even bring yourself to fully get angry with him for what he did. Looking down, Ace would begin to chuckle; a weird coping mechanism for him in times of stress and uttered the last words you wanted to hear.

“And after all this time, all the bullshit I put you through..you still love me, don’t you? That’s the only reason you’re still sitting here..the only reason you didn’t hang up. When you’re done with something, you never give it a second thought.” sitting cross armed, you’d begin to laugh. Not at his hurt but at the fact that for the first time in almost five years of knowing him, you saw him show genuine, raw emotion. You saw him finally let down his guard and be himself…as sad as it was, it was a bit cathartic.

“Wow…so you are capable of communicating your feelings and there isn’t a ten foot wall of bullshit in that head of yours.” Poking the side of his temple playfully..

“Of course I love you. I never stopped, you inconsiderate jackass. What did I ever do to you? That’s all I could ask myself. You keep talking about me deserving better and all of this bullshit..who gave you the right to decide what I wanted and what I deserve? Shouldn’t I have a say too? You left because it was easy, Ace. Instead of working through it with me, you ran because you don’t want anyone thinking you’re weak. That’s not how relationships work..we’re supposed to see each other at our worst, our best..good and bad days. If you feel insecure about anything, you did it to yourself because you were perfect to me and you know damn well I never made you feel anything less than.”

those words stung like none other. And honestly, no matter what he said, there wasn’t a good enough excuse for any of his behavior. You said it best..he was selfish, immature and didn’t think clearly. Ace had a knack for marching to the beat of his own drum and damn the consequences.

“..you’re right, (y/n). It’s my fault..and I can’t take any of it back…” suddenly, you’d feel his hand clutch the top of your own, intertwining your fingers as he stared you in the eye.

“..but I can try to fix it. Fix us..let me make this right. Please…if you’re happier with someone else, then there’s nothing I can do. But—“ In that moment, (y/n) had finally heard all that you could take. Reaching over the console, you’d clutch his face in your palm and shove your lips together. The sensation of that warm kiss sent a surge throughout your body..a spark you hadn’t felt since the day he left.

“Are you done? God, I swear you talk too damn much.” Prompting him to laugh as you held the side of his face. He was a little taken aback by your sudden dominance. Not knowing you to ever take control like this but he wasn’t mad about it one bit..

“..why’d you kiss me? What about your boyfriend?” A question as disrespectful as it was rhetorical.

“You’re as dumb as you are cute sometimes. You think I came all the way out here at three am to chit chat? Nut uh, you owe me..also, you’re a greedy bastard. No way you’re letting me go back in that apartment unless it’s with you." By this time, your hands were roaming his chest and your faces were only inches apart. His lips would curl into a sheepish grin before his palm snaked to the back of your neck, tugging your head towards him.

“..what can I say, babe? I’m just too damn stubborn..I always have to get my way.” And with that, you’d find your tongues joined together again. Twirling around one another with heavy whimpers mixed in. Suddenly, you’d find yourself crawling into the driver's seat and onto his lap. Just as you’d suspected, he’d worn those gray sweats you’d always loved to see him in and a black tank top to display his muscles, along with a newly acquired tattoo.

This man was not slick at all! Even so, his little tactic worked because all those memories of late nights and early mornings with him came rushing back. When you’d find yourself sneaking out on lunch breaks at work just to come eat his dick up or when he’d show up at your apartment around midnight because he’d work the closing shift again. With a bottle of wine and the intention of putting you through the mattress in every position after two glasses got you turned on. It was always exciting and spontaneous with Ace, something your ‘new man’ lacked. Slowly winding in his lap as you continued to make out, (y/n) caressed his torso..missing the familiar touch of his skin, taking in the scent of his cologne and immersing yourself in him. He’d run his thumbs across your throat, gently squeezing as you took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re so beautiful..I missed you.” “Yeah? You missed me, baby?” Teasing him as you bounced your ass against his crotch, subtly twerking on his visible bulge. Caressing your gentle fingertips across his freshly shaven jawline. You could feel him growing harder underneath him and knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Even kissing on his neck and licking on his jugular. “Mmmm..fuck. Pull that dress up and I’ll show you just how much.” Without a single bit of hesitation, you lifted the hem and allowed your bare cheeks and slit to graze him. Shuffling around underneath you, Ace slid his thumbs into the sides of those sweats, letting them pool around his waist. Meanwhile, he couldn’t stop marking your neck and lips with tender kisses..or apologizing for how stupid he was! Being here with you again brought back a flood of memories and emotions..ones that he never wanted to lose again. He needed this to be real once more. However, you weren’t much for talking right now..if he wanted to win his girl back, all you needed were actions.

“Why are you still talking? Just fuck the shit out of me before I grow a conscience and change my mind.” Your command being heard loud and clear; forcing him to grip your waist and balance you above that aching tip. Swollen red and seeping with precum, he was eager for you and that warm cunt was welcoming him in.

“Yes ma’am..whatever you say.” Following up his remark with a toothy smirk so you knew he was going to deliver and give you exactly what you were looking for. (Y/N) reclined against the steering wheel for a moment as he slowly infiltrated that entrance. That core drooling as he made home inside of you. Both of your heads fell backwards in a haze of pleasure…enjoying the all too familiar feeling of being one!

“Shiiit..why are so fucking tight? Oh my gosh..” those breathy moans and whines escaped his mouth the second he began thrusting. Not even two pumps in and he was trying to maintain his composure. With you though, he failed pretty quick. Reacclimating to the warmth that was your insides was going to be a challenge. Even so, he’d continue to guide you up and down on his shaft, letting that thick cock stretch open those wet folds.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take this dick…just like that..” Meanwhile, (y/n)’s mouth fell ajar, overstimulated by the sensation already. You’d paw at his chest, holding onto him as he maneuvered you to his liking. Using your body like that of a flesh light. “’s so good. Missed this big fucking dick.” Hearing those words elicited another chuckle from Ace, prompting him to cradle the back of your neck in a dominant manner, pulling you close. “Yeah? Your little boyfriend ever fuck you like this?” Questioning through clenched teeth as he continued guiding your lower half..

those soft insides wrapping around him with each stroke. You’d then feel the tight clutch of his hand on the back of your head, tugging at those freshly styled wefts coursing down your back..he was aware of the minute fortune you spent each month to upkeep your beauty. From the thousand dollar hair appointments, nail salon visits and waxes..even so, he didn’t give a damn! Turning his gorgeous girl into a sloppy slut was his favorite pastime. A toothy grin on his face, watching your swollen tits bounce and drool seep from the corners of your mouth, along with the loud moans following suit.

“..I’ll take that as a no. You’re squeezing me like you haven’t come in ages, babe.” Those taunts harbored more truth than you’d care to admit. As shameful as it was to be cheating, you’d never be happy with someone who couldn’t give you a nut! Hypocritical as it was abhorrent, you too would never be satisfied until you got what you desired. And that desire was the guy slamming balls deep up inside of you at the moment. Pounding that sensitive little core..letting that fat mushroom tip split you open and begging for that sweet cunt to siphon him for every last drop of cum he had. “You’re fucking dripping..you must’ve needed this bad. Goddamn..” referring to the creamy release you had drizzling his cock. Making a mess of his lap. “Y—yeah..you’re the only one who can make me cream like this.” Cock drunk and giggling as he catapulted you up and down. The vehicle began to sway due to the heavy activity taking place and the windows also began to fog up as a result. That’s when you’d feel his palms colliding with your asscheeks, egging on your bouncing. It was in the midst of those heavy handed smacks that he’d begin pleading his remorse. Telling you how sorry he was for how he mistreated you. As cute as it was, you weren’t interested in any half assed apologies, but rather….

”…if you’re really sorry, you’ll nut in me. This is your pussy so act like it..” Uttering those words with a wide smile on your face whilst meeting his strokes with heavy bounces..nearly made Ace convulse. He loved when you spoke to him in such a domineering manner. You’d feel a sudden twitch inside of you and his hands guiding you as you slammed down on that cock. Your cheeks grazing the outer rim of the steering wheel..both of you so close to your peak that you’d claw into one another’s skin.

Covered in a sheen of sweat and saliva..begging the other to get you there and revealing all of your deepest confessions for one another..including the fact that he wanted you to be his forever and that you weren’t leaving this parking lot without him. You’d clearly chosen who you wanted to be with.

“…damn right it’s my pussy, princess. I don’t care who you bring home. You belong to me and I belong to you..no one else can come between that. Ever again.”

not to mention..you were begging for his cum yet again. You’d often divulge in the throes of pre-climatic bliss that you wanted to have his kid..be so full of his seed that there was no way you weren’t pregnant and Ace certainly had no objections to it. Maybe it was the sensation of being cream pied or the fact that you really wanted a family with him. Either way, he constantly fantasized about seeing you full with his seed; how adorable you’d look with a bump and he just couldn’t maintain his composure.

“Yes..please come in me. Want your baby—“ having to laugh again at how cute and pathetic you were becoming. But alas, there was no room for shame right now. You’d plead with your last breath to feel that womb stuffed again.

“That right, gorgeous? Does my pretty girl want me to get her pregnant?..” “Yes, nut in this fucking pussy, daddy. Please!” certainly a far cry from the headstrong woman who was yelling at him before. Now, you were reduced to a desperate little cumslut, pleading to be bred. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. After experiencing your second orgasm in close succession, Ace would pin you down and force his cock up into you, going as fast as he could muster. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna take every drop. You’re going to have my baby and I’m going to take such good care of you both. Gonna marry you—be a better man this time around..” That soft flesh ricocheting as a result..loud grunts and curse words filling the car as he prepared to do the same to you.

“M fucking coming, babe! Hold still—shit!—“ in that moment, that orgasm would rip through his body and just as you requested, all of his warm seed coursed through your insides and didn’t stop for a solid two minutes..having not had a proper orgasm since you guys split up. He was still twitching inside of you, holding you to his chest as you both cried from how amazing it felt. Tears on both of your faces as a result of ecstasy.

“Damn, I guess I wasn’t the only one who needed that.” Teasing him amidst your cute giggles. Leaning up, (y/n) kissed the tip of his nose and caressed his cheek..unable to believe that you were here with him again. He’d gently stroke the side of your face as well..glaring at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you, (y/n)..so much. I never thought I’d get the chance to tell you that again. Feels so good.” And you shared his sentiment. He was the only one it ever felt genuine from and damn sure, the only guy you meant it to. Any guilt or shame had long since absolved and you knew this was exactly where you should’ve been. ”I love you too, Ace. I’m so glad you showed up.” It was going to be a long day, as you had some explaining to do. But for now..

“Shit..he’s calling me.”

“Ignore it..let me hold you a little bit longer, okay?”

you wanted to remain in this moment for as long as possible. After all, this is where you were happiest and there was no one who’d give you the high that he could.

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droaxa · 5 months ago

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the villainesses scheme

✧ tags: yandere haikyuu male leads x villainess reader

✧ warnings: yandere behavior (later on), reader hits her head

✧ a/n: hi guys guess who’s back!! i love the isekai trope where the mc gets reborn a few years before their death and i needed to put my own lil’ twist on it! i’d love to turn this into something longer (like a series or something) so give me your thoughts!! my recent haikyuu obsession led to this one lol, inspired by: the male leads were stolen by an extra

You were a loser, well not exactly. You had a pretty stable job and a nice flat but lacked one major component in your life: friends. But it’s not like you were antisocial! Moving to a new city just a few months ago, you had been busy with moving in and didn’t exactly have enough time to make friends.

Besides you were preoccupied with your favorite web comic of all time: Flower of the Estate! A commoner girl that has three noble men falling for her? This girl really had some crazy cha(rizz)ma. You weren’t really into harem type stories but wow did it keep you coming back to see what happened.

It was another late night reading Flower of the Estate when you decided to head to the kitchen to get some snacks to keep you fueled. However, when you turned to retreat back you slipped on spilled water near the sink and hit your head on the granite counter! You mentally curse yourself for not cleaning it up as you drift into a deep slumber.

When you open your eyes and the lights blind you, quickly slapping a hand over your face you shoot up. Registering the soft plush beneath you you opened your eyes, when did you get in bed? Looking around your jaw drops, who the hell put you in a room like this! The whole room was illuminated by sunlight peaking behind the luxurious navy drapes and you gasped at the sheer size and extravagance of the bedroom. You were… in a castle?

Jumping off the bed you immediately fell to your knees with a thud. How long had you been out for that your legs were this weak? You push yourself up and stumble to the mirror on a vanity next to the bed. The satin fabric of your night gown fell to the ground, revealing the length that had been bunched up while you were sleeping.

In the mirror, the first thing you see is (e/c) eyes and a face eerily similar to yours. It was your face and body for sure but the state of it wasn’t, your hands were usually rough and your knees were scarred from playing as a child but now both were smooth and even. Then your eyes feel on a crest engraved onto the top of the vanity and your heart dropped.

The beautiful family crest of a black fox protected by two swords was a prevalent symbol in Flower of the Estate. It was the crest of the villainess. You, (y/n) Aleria, were the cruel villainess of the story, waking up here and looking like this had no other explanation. To see if it was true you quickly pushed the sleeve of your left arm up, on the wrist was a faint birthmark. A scar in the shape of a half moon, your fate was sealed. You fall back on the bed. ‘Shit.’

You were official the villainess of Flower of the Estate, who bullies the main character, get thrown out of high society, and then dies. You knew the path that the villainess followed and the actions she took, did that mean you could avoid facing the same death as her as well? The first mistake that she had committed that set her on the path of destruction was her bullying of the main character.

The villainess was notorious for her extravagant lifestyle and cruel manner, she didn’t have anyone close to her and the book never showed her point of view. You knew the basics about her but who was (y/n) — really? Was she really just jealous of the commoner girl that had managed to outshine her or was it deeper than that?

No matter why she behaved that way, you knew that following on her footsteps would only lead you to doom. You needed a game plan, plus you read enough reincarnation manga to know what basic things to avoid as the villainess.

Love Interests and Relations:

Tooru Oikawa - Childhood love (One sided) and (y/n)’s main obsession

Tobio Kageyama - Royal knight who pledged their loyalty to (y/n)

Ushijima Wakatoshi - Esteemed scholar who ended up being (y/n)’s tutor for a short period of time

Ok… this would a little harder than you thought. Why were all the love interests involved with the villainess anyway? Oikawa could be avoided easily enough, you just needed to distance yourself from him and considering that Oikawa was keen on getting rid of you. If you remembered correctly he was rather annoyed by the villainess who would cling to his side like a lost puppy. As for Ushijima, you knew that he would only be your tutor for a month, then leave your care to meet the main character who he would eventually fall in love with. Kageyama would be the hardest to get rid of compared to the other two, he would be around the villainesses the longest and somehow fall in love with her. However much like the others, he would fall in love with the female lead and leave (y/n) to be with her, withdrawing his pledge to be by her side.

Ugh. This is going to be a headache isn’t it?

#yandere #x reader #female reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #angst #yandere x y/n #yandere harem #yandere royalty #yandere haikyuu #yandere king #yandere duke #yandere haikyuu x reader #reincarnation #reincarnated reader

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burning-omen · 5 months ago

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Happy (Belated) Halloween!

Jason Todd x Demon!male!reader

(A/n: I'm tired, I've been getting argued at and pulled into fights that have nothing to do with me from the time I woke up- had a bunch of chores and shit to do and the fucking grocery store was packed and people keep bumping into me and all the fucking prices went way up since the last time I was there less than a month ago- I'm thoroughly overstimulated and getting home to edit and rewrite certain parts of this shitty little fic was a probably the best part of my day.)

Warning: crack fic kinda, blood, Demon!reader, murder, mutilation, and gore, summoning gone right technically, reader has TWO dicks, size difference, overstimulation, masochism, probably misspellings idk I'm not reading it again that's your job, dom/sub, ownership marking, sacrifice (rip that guy, ive been calling him marvin in my head), going missing for a lil while (consensually), OOC jason todd but this is literally porn who cares

word count: 1981 (short, i know, shut up/j)

Halloween parties were the worst. If the loud, drunk, half-naked crowd wasn’t enough to convince Jason, walking in on an honest to god seance was.

Being dragged to a party by Dick, only to lose him in the crowd of people within the first few minutes. He just wanted some quiet- and under the guise of looking for how brother he managed to avoid nearly every conversation that came his way- except for some incomprehensible drunk girl who insisted on holding a conversation with his even though she sounded like she was under water every time she opened her mouth.

He eventually managed to escape from her, finding the nearest room to recuperate in, only to be greeted by a room of chanting, drunk party-goers, kneeling around a shakily drawn yet intricate summoning circle. The chant was Latin- super old Latin- and Jason really wanted no part in this. He knew that demons were real, he knew a lot of shit that was supposedly fake was real- he had Batman to thank for that. So, after standing in the room for about 30 seconds, he decided to leave.

Turning on his heel, not saying a word to whatever party cult he just walked in on- deadset on leaving when he heard choking, and gasps from the mini cult as they clamored around the chanter who had suddenly collapsed.

Taking in a deep breath, cursing Bruce and the unwavering need to help he instilled in all of his children, before turning back to the group.

Laying, choking in the middle of the circle was a young man-

‘He’s drunk,’ Jason thought, pushing through the group surrounding him, their concern was nice- but unhelpful ‘probably choked on his tongue.’

Tilting his head back, the choking became louder- tears streamed down his face, his mouth agape as he clawed at his throat- his eyes desperate and afraid.

“It’s okay,” Jason tried, but he wasn’t exactly known for his bedside manner. “Just let me look.”

He peered down the man's throat- his tongue was wear it was supposed to be, but blood still filled the man’s mouth. Clearly whatever was happening here was internal, there's nothing Jason could do for him. Before he could ask anyone to call an ambulance- he saw something move at the very back of his throat. Even through the pooling blood, he could tell something wasn’t right- what the hell did he swallow?

His neck bulged as something made its way up- that was good- maybe. Slowly pushing up- whatever it was- caused the man to cry out in pain. He coughed and sputtered as it moved up and up until it pushed past the muscles of his throat and out of his mouth. A hand, clawed- drenched in blood, moving with so much force that a crack sounded through the room as more and more of the form inside him- whatever it was- came out. Breaking his jaw to finally reach out and grab his face- he cried out as pain and panic filled him- he turned to Jason for help as his friends fled but there wasn’t anything Jason could do but sit there in horror as an arm lifted from his broken and mutilated face- he cheeks tearing in as his mouth opened to unnatural length.

The bloody arm clawed at the floor, sharp talon like nails leaving deep wounds in the wood. Jason backed away- fear as well as guilt taking over. The basic instinct that anyone who had even taken the moniker “Robin” knew took over soon after, he needs to call batman- he couldn’t handle whatever this is, not on his own. He reached for his phone right as the candle lit room suddenly went dark. Jason, usually so strong and sure, didn’t know what to do. His communicator clattered to the floor as he stood.

He swore quietly- backing up until he was pressed against the wall- the sound of flesh tearing filled the room- still hot blood splattered across his face.

A soft growl came from the dark, deep and steady and growing closer by the second. Then,as if they had never been out, the candles were re-lit.

A massive beastly thing stood above him, horned and winged- a long tail trailing behind it. Soaked in the blood of the man that was scattered in chunks around the room. Despite knowing that he should definitely be afraid, a man had been ripped from the inside out right in front of him, something somewhere in his mind was saying, “would”. The thought immediately made him cringe at himself- he could not survive that- not only were you massive, you were also very naked. With not one but two just as massive, heavy cocks resting between your legs. He’d die, simply put, torn in half Terrifier style.

“Scared, human?” You asked, voice just as inhuman as your form.

Suddenly unable to find his words, Jason shook his head.

The action made you purr- something was so wrong with this man, not running or screaming, but instead sitting before you, his eyes wandering over your body, face reddened as his heart pounded in his chest.

He didn’t even attempt to move when you reached for him, his breath caught in his throat, but he remained perfectly still as you stroked his hair, then ran the backside of your claws down his cheek. All the way down to his chest, pressing just the tip of your claw in, watching as his shirt quickly became stained with blood.

“Not scared? How brave of you, human. “ You mused, “I require sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” he barely managed.

Trailing your claw lower and lower until the point of it rested over the growing bulge in his pants.

“A sacrifice of life is usually offered.” You pressed down, “But, another kind of offering will suffice.”

Jason breathed out- he can’t. Mentally, he could- he’s done all kinds of weird shit, fucking a demon wouldn’t even come close to the worse things he done- it doesn’t even reach top ten with the rest of his family’s track record for weird shit. But physically, that would kill him. One alone would shatter his pelvis and probably paralyze him- two would just straight up kill him. And you really didn’t seem like the kind of demon to go half way- you did come all the way from hell after all.

The obvious thing to do was to say no and call a fucking exorcist- but Jason didn’t do that, instead he speaks, so sure and steady as he spoke-

“Can you shrink?”

The entirety of your form became, your horns no longer scraped the ceiling, but you were still massive above Jason. You didn’t make it easy for him- pressing him into the floor with one clawed hand gripping his hair tightly, knees pressed into the hard wood and legs spread wide open, his cock- which you decided needed to remain untouched for the “sacrifice” to be valid.

Labored breathing, gasping and all encompassing sobs filled the room as both of your cock stretched him to the limit every time you thrusted into him- his nearly blunt nails leaving marks in the wooden floor below him.

With his mouth hanging wide open- he begged- muttering a broken “Please-’’ between moans-

You leaned down, pulling him up by his hair- resting inside him before speaking.

“You want more, human?”

Eyes brimmed with tears, feeling far fuller than felt natural- but so good and warm at the exact same time- deep in his stomach all the down to the very tips of his toes, every nerve so very alive.

He nods, shortly and without hesitation.

You grip on his hair loosens, and he sighs in relief as the burning pain in his scalp stops.

Only to flair up in his hips as you dig your claws into them, literally. Piercing through skin and drawing blood that slid over his skin and pooled beneath him on the floor. Jason, ever the masochist, only gets louder. With the party outside still raging on, you're sure the sound blended into the background- and any attendee lucky enough to have heard the high, whiny moans was listening far too hard.

Thrusting became painful, hard slamming- both cocks abusing his prostate with unnatural accuracy. Pulling out until the tips of your cock were just barely inside of him- then pressing back in so hard his entire body was pushed forward.

Jason’s mind was loud and incoherent - incomplete thoughts running through his head, cut short by either pain or pleasure every single time.

His body spammed unwillingly, muscles tightening and releasing, his hole tightened around you in an attempt to suck you in more- even if more would cause so so many problems for the man.

“So greedy,” you hummed in his ear, and you take cock so well.”

He didn’t respond, he couldn’t, overwhelmed and obsessed with the feeling. His orgasm- the first of many snuck up on him, his body overstimulated and oversensitive as hot, white cum shot straight onto the floor.

He gasped for air as though he’d been held under water- his body burned as he clenched around you- pleasure gone- replaced by what could only be described as fire destroying him from the inside out. He cried out in pain, his body writhes and contorts- and yet he never asks you to stop.

You grinned, “so cute, I might just have to keep you, human.”

You weren’t far behind him, cum seeping from both of your tips as you buried yourself deep inside him- it only added to the burning. Filling him so much until his hole, still plugged with your cock, leaks it back out. Down his legs and onto the floor, mixing with his own puddle of cum. You watched him for a long moment, letting him grit his teeth and cry at the pain, before showing your newest pet a bit of mercy and pulling out.

His body slouched onto the floor the moment you leg go. Jason was on the verge of passing out, eyes barely open, covered in blood, sweat, and cum. He has a high pain tolerance and his stamina was through the roof- but fucking hell he was so tired, and everything hurt, from his over used knees, to his damn near broken hole, and the small wounds your claws had made- coupled with an over bearing overstimulation making everything ten times worse- Jason, without question, was never doing this again.

—--- A couple weeks later—---

Dick realized that Jason wasn’t a party person, but for him to just disappear (and possibly kill someone at the party??? What the hell Jay???) for weeks seemed to be a bit of an overreaction.

But when he walked into the manor, happy as can be, after just being gone for three weeks, Dick knew something was very wrong- or very unusual- was happening.

“I had a date.” Was Jason’s only response, as he leaned heavily against the back of a chair, but never actually sat down in it.

“A date?!” Dick is so glad he questioned him in private. “With who?”

Jason shrugged, “met a guy at the party.”

“Jason you just dropped off of the face of the Earth with some guy for nearly a month?!”

Dick didn’t realize how literal that was- Hell has some pretty nice residential areas, it turns out.

“I was having fun.”

Jason, of course, was never going to tell Dick what he has really been doing- or what he will continue to be doing for the foreseeable future- but it was fun watching him freak out at every vague answer he gave.

The mark (brand?? Tattoo??) on his back still felt weird, sensitive from its spot hidden under his clothes, but how else would other demon, humans, and every other sentient being know that he was yours.

(a/n 2: AND I KNOW ITS LATE BUT I STILL FINISHED IT WITHIN A REASONABLE TIME SO EVERYBODY SHUT UP/j)

#good night party people #x male reader #male reader #male!reader #x male!reader #top male reader #top!male!reader #reader insert #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x male!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #cinnamon #THIS IS MY FANFIC AND I WILL VENT IN THE A/N IF I WANT TO

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plasticflowersinahistorycemetery · 16 days ago

Text

inviolable

part I

Pairing: Ben x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ben's your dad's best friend, his partner in crime, your godfather. You've harboured a secret crush on him for years, and maybe—just maybe—he's got some hidden feelings of his own that he's kept bottled up for too long.

Warnings: 18+!, Ben is his own goddamn warning, age gap, pining/mutual pining, forbidden romance, forbidden relationship, secret/hidden relationship, power imbalance, dubious morality, possessiveness, jealousy, smut (clitoral stimulation, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus/oral, dry humping, p in v, kissing, spitting), dirty talk, mild misogyny, I may have missed some.

Word Count: 7,741

A/N: I'm back. Christ, I'm on a proper mission with writing at the moment. Must be the insomnia. Thank god for it though, eh? Anyways... this is a little something that's been in my head for a long old time, it's based off a weird dream I had a couple months back (I was watching The Boys damn near constantly, like falling asleep with it on and everything, as well as reading a bunch of SB smut) and I just built on it, and it's kinda run away with me a lil bit. <3 Lot of the plot in this first instalment... plot is a term I use lightly. Because—what goddamn plot? Hope you guys like the little Sameo! (see what I did there? Cameo... but... Sam? No? Sorry.) So... this is part one. This one will definitely only have two parts... and knowing me, I'll have it finished by some time tomorrow night. So, yeah, while all the warnings listed above may not be evident here? They will be in the next part. S'gonna be a doozy. Until then? All the love.

Without further ado: INVIOLABLE

There are things in this world meant to remain untouched. Sacred things. Hallowed things. Bound by blood, by time, by unspoken law. To trespass against them is to court ruin—to lay hands upon the inviolable and feel the weight of the world shift beneath your feet.

Some doors are never meant to be opened. Some lines are never meant to be crossed. Some names are never meant to be spoken in the dark, breathless and trembling, as hands that should never touch find purchase in forbidden places.

But the thing about forbidden things? They don’t stay untouched forever.

You don’t remember when it started. Maybe it was always there, a quiet, undisturbed thing, like a seed buried deep beneath the soil, waiting for the right moment to break open.

Ben had been a constant for as long as you could remember. Your godfather. Your father’s best friend, his shadow, his second half in ways that made it impossible to imagine one without the other. There was no family barbecue, no holiday gathering, no Sunday spent in the backyard without him. He was always there, cigarette tucked behind his ear, beer in his hand, voice rough and low like gravel warmed by the summer sun.

And God, he had always been so handsome.

Even as a child, you’d thought so—before you even knew what handsome was supposed to mean. You just knew you liked looking at him, that your stomach flipped when he laughed, that you wanted him to notice you. And he always had.

Where your father had rolled his eyes at your endless energy, Ben had indulged you. When your dad had said no, Ben had smirked, crouched down, and let you climb onto his shoulders anyway, holding you steady as he walked around the yard like you belonged there, like he didn’t mind carrying your weight. He let you hang off his leg, dragging him down with your tiny hands locked around his knee, and he would walk anyway, his booted steps slow and exaggerated as he played along, dragging you through the grass while you shrieked with laughter.

And the gifts. The perfect gifts.

It had been your sixth birthday when he’d given you the lamb. A stupid little stuffed thing, soft and floppy-eared, but from the moment you’d unwrapped it, it had been yours. Clutched in your arms at bedtime, dragged through the house by one matted paw, tucked beneath your chin when you curled into your father’s lap.

"Lamby," you’d called it, with all the solemnity of a child bestowing a title upon something sacred. And it had stuck.

Your father’s friends had made it a joke—called you Lamby just to get a rise out of you, to tease you until you were red-faced and flustered. "Only Uncle Ben is allowed to call me that!" you would snap, every single time. And your father had only laughed, nudging Ben with a knowing grin, muttering something about his little admirer.

You hadn’t understood what that meant back then. You hadn’t known it was anything more than adoration.

But then puberty hit.

And the adoration didn’t go away. It just... shifted.

You told yourself it was still innocent. That it was normal to notice the way his arms looked in his rolled-up sleeves, the way he leaned against your father’s truck, the way his voice melted into you like whiskey and smoke. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything when you hated seeing other women near him. When he brought girlfriends to family parties, when they sat too close, when they ran their hands down his arm or pressed their lips to his cheek, it made your chest ache with something raw and unfamiliar.

He was yours.

Not in any way that made sense, but still. He was your Uncle Ben.

And then came the night after your eighteenth birthday.

You had been drunk. Slurring your words, tripping over the sidewalk, clutching your best friend’s arm as she tried—and failed—to keep you both upright. The thought of calling your father had been enough to send panic clawing up your throat, so you’d called the only other person you trusted.

He had picked up on the first ring.

And twenty minutes later, his truck had pulled up to the curb, headlights slashing through the dark, his expression set in something between relief and exasperation. He hadn’t lectured you. He hadn’t yelled. He had just sighed, tipped your chin up to look at him, and said, "This gonna become a regular thing, Lamby?"

And God, you had hated how warm that stupid nickname made you feel.

He had dropped your best friend off first, watching until she was safely inside, then pulled into your driveway and put the truck in park. He had glanced at you, eyes dark in the dim glow of the dashboard, fingers drumming against the wheel before he spoke.

"I can’t lie to your dad, you know."

"You won’t have to," you had promised, voice soft and a little too sincere.

And that had been enough for him. He had ruffled your hair, just like he always had, fingers threading through the strands before falling away. "Get inside, get some water, and go to sleep. No more stupid shit."

You had nodded, cheeks burning, throat tight. You had felt so young then, under the weight of his gaze. Too young. But you weren’t. And someday, he was going to realise that too.

Then came 4th of July weekend, the year you'd turned nineteen.

The heat had been unbearable.

Thick and wet and heavy, clinging to your skin, making the air hum with something dense and slow-moving. The whole backyard had smelled like charcoal and cut grass, the acrid tinge of fireworks powder settling into the summer air as your dad and his friends—Ben included—set up the launch station.

You’d spent the whole day running back and forth between the house and the yard, fetching ice-cold beers, mixing up pitchers of iced tea and lemonade, your father muttering something about not letting his old ass friends drop dead from heatstroke. It should have been annoying, but you liked being useful, liked the way they all grumbled their appreciation, knocking back the drinks you handed them, sweat dripping from their temples.

And Ben? You’d liked it most when he reached for the glass.

The way his fingers had brushed yours, barely noticeable. The way he had tilted his head back, swallowing deep, Adam’s apple bobbing, before exhaling with a low groan. "Christ, Lamby. Think you saved my goddamn life."

You shouldn’t have felt it the way you did.

But you had.

And now, as the sun dipped low, casting everything in burning gold, you were perched on the picnic table, watching them finish the setup. Your legs bare, thighs sticky from the heat, the denim of your cutoffs riding too high—not that you were about to fix it. Your father was barking out orders, directing Ben and the others, but you could tell they were moving slower now, the heat catching up with them, exhaustion weighing down their steps.

Then Ben sighed, slapping his hands against his jeans. "Goin’ for a smoke," he muttered, and without much thought, he came to rest right beside you.

Not on the bench, but on the table itself. Perched, ankles crossed, the slight shift of the wood beneath his weight making you acutely aware of how close he was.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, that earthy scent of sweat and sun-baked skin mixed with the cigarette as he lit it, fingers cupping the flame from the breeze before shaking the lighter closed.

And then—he glanced at you.

Just for a second too long.

Just long enough for your heart to stutter, for something low in your stomach to twist itself into a tight, hot knot. He looked away too fast, like he caught himself before it could mean anything, and it made you feel a little sick with wanting.

So you grinned, cocked your head, and asked, "Can I try?"

His reaction was instantaneous. A sharp scoff, a low laugh, and then—"Fuckin’ behave yourself."

Your breath hitched.

You shouldn’t have felt it the way you did. But you did.

Something in his voice, in the rough scrape of it, made the air feel different. You weren’t sure if it was disapproval or something else, but either way—your face burned with the heat of it.

You tried to brush it off, tried to act like it didn’t matter, but as he took another slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke into the humid air, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—he’d felt it too.

The fireworks had gone off like crackling constellations, splitting the night sky into pieces, blooming in colours that made your father’s face glow with the kind of pure, boyish joy that made your chest hurt. He had been beaming, beer sloshing in his hand as he threw an arm over one of his old friends, laughter bubbling from his chest.

The rest of them had been just as bad, slurring through old war stories, cheering every time another explosion thundered overhead.

You had slipped away at some point, away from the heat of bodies and the tang of sweat and liquor in the air. The mosquito lamp buzzed softly from the porch as you leaned against the railing, staring out into the yard, the scent of burning gunpowder still thick in the air.

Then—footsteps behind you.

Ben.

"Knew you’d be hiding somewhere," he muttered, already pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. He perched on the railing, flicked his lighter open, and took a slow, deep drag. Then, without looking at you—without any warning at all—he pulled the cigarette from his lips and held it out.

"Just this once."

Your chest constricted.

For a second, you just stared at it—like maybe if you reached for it, you’d burn yourself on something else entirely. But he was watching now, eyes flicking sideways, and you didn’t want to look like a kid.

So you took it. Put it between your lips. Inhaled, tried not to cough.

Ben chuckled. "Look at you. Lil’ fuckin’ menace." Then—softer, lower, just for you: "Lamby."

That did something to you.

Something dangerous. Something hot and breathless and twisting, your whole body thrumming with something bright and stupid and electric.

Then, before you could even process it, he was holding out his beer. "C’mon. Might as well complete the set."

You took a sip, felt the cold bite of it trickle down your throat, the taste of smoke still lingering on your tongue. Ben watched, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, before he tapped his nose with two fingers and winked.

"Don’t tell your dad."

And just like that—he stood, stretching, rolling his shoulders before heading back toward the others.

You sat there, reeling.

Preening.

Because it wasn’t much, was it? Just a cigarette, just a sip of beer, just a joke. Except it wasn’t. Because it had been just for you. Because you’d felt seen in a way that made something curl and bloom in your chest.

And later, when the house was quiet—when the night was settled, heavy, deep—you still weren’t asleep.

The guys had been too drunk to leave, sprawled across couches, filling up the guest rooms, your father snoring loud enough to shake the goddamn walls. But you were still awake, still buzzing, still aching with something you couldn’t name.

And then—footsteps. Soft. Slow. Passing by your room. You watched the shadow slip under your doorframe.

And then—pause.

Just for a second. Not long. Not even long enough to be real. But you felt it all the same. The moment passed. The shadow moved on. The footsteps faded.

And still—you sat there for the next hour, face buried in your pillow, biting back the giddy, breathless, shaking laughter in your chest. Because whether it had been him or not, it didn’t matter.

You wanted it to be.

And when your first date had come around, you had been so excited.

Not the kind of giddy, fluttery excitement that made you feel small—no, this was something deeper, something that made you feel light on your feet, steady in your chest. It had been a long time since someone had noticed you like that, since someone had looked at you and seen more than just the girl they grew up around, more than your father’s daughter.

And Sam had seen you.

A guy from a couple of towns over, nice enough, awkward but in a way that had made you laugh, spilling beer on you at the bowling alley before immediately scrambling for napkins, his face red as he apologised over and over. He had stayed with you the whole night, ditching his friends without hesitation, choosing instead to sit in a dimly lit booth while the two of you talked.

Not just talked—really talked.

Folklore. Mythology. The things that made your brain buzz, the subjects you had been considering studying in college, but never quite voiced aloud to anyone who might take it seriously.

But Sam had taken it seriously.

He had leaned forward, elbows braced on the table, asking real questions, pushing deeper, not just humouring you, but actually listening.

And when he had asked you out, when he had ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck, waiting for an answer—

You had squealed. You had said yes immediately, heart skipping, stomach twisting, exchanging numbers before parting ways, feeling like maybe—just maybe—you were stepping into something new.

So tonight, you had dressed for it.

Your prettiest sundress, soft and light, swaying when you moved. Sandals, simple but delicate. You had done your hair, your makeup, catching your reflection before heading downstairs, thinking—"I look… grown up. Pretty, even."

The thought had felt strange, thrilling, like shedding something old, stepping into something undiscovered.

And then—you walked into the living room.

Ben and your dad were lounging on the sofa, beer bottles in hand, eyes fixed on the baseball game you hadn’t even realised was on. The room smelled like cologne and sweat, hops and leather, the low murmur of the commentators filling the space.

You had barely glanced at them as you passed, already reaching for your bag, when you said, "Sam’s gonna be here soon to pick me up."

And that was when Ben spoke.

"Who the hell is Sam?"

His voice had been flat, clipped, like he was barely paying attention—but then your dad answered.

"Some guy who asked her on a date. Seems like a good kid. Bit of a square."

You had opened your mouth to protest, to defend Sam, to tell your dad that being a square wasn’t a bad thing, when you felt it—

Ben’s eyes on you.

A slow, sweeping once-over.

Your breath caught, the moment thickening, stretching, twisting into something you weren’t sure you were imagining.

Then he turned back to your dad, muttered, "She’s too young to be goin' on dates."

And your stomach dropped. Not because you were embarrassed—no, because of the way he’d said it.

The rough edge to it. The way his fingers tightened around his beer bottle, the way his jaw flexed, his shoulders tensing where he leaned into the couch. It wasn’t some offhand comment—it was something else.

Your dad had only laughed, smacking Ben’s arm, shaking his head. "She’s twenty now, man. C’mon."

Ben didn’t answer. Not at first. Just took a long sip of his beer, eyes flicking back toward the screen, but not really watching.

And that’s when your heart started pounding.

Because your father had been fine with it. He had laughed it off, joked about it, made peace with it weeks ago.

But Ben? Ben wasn’t fine.

Ben was annoyed.

And you didn’t want to play things up in your head, you didn’t, but he was coming across jealous.

And that—that made your chest feel too tight, too warm, something curling behind your ribs, something��you shouldn’t want as badly as you did.

Because Ben had never looked at you like that before.

Sam had been sweet.

That was the only way to describe him. Sweet. Earnest. Polite in a way that most guys weren’t. He had kept his hands to himself all night, opened doors for you, paid for dinner even when you’d offered to split, and had spent most of the drive home talking excitedly about a new book he thought you might like, glancing over at you every so often like he couldn’t quite believe you were still sitting beside him.

And maybe that’s why you let him walk you to the door.

Because it had been nice. Because he had treated you like someone special, not just a pretty girl, but someone he actually wanted to know.

You had stood there on the porch, shifting slightly, fingers curling around the strap of your purse as he leaned in.

Not too fast. Not too forceful. Just slow, like he was making sure you had time to pull away if you wanted to. And maybe you would have let him kiss you. Maybe you would have closed the gap, felt something soft, something simple, something nice.

But you didn’t.

Because the second your lips almost met—

The door swung open.

And there stood Ben.

Big. Broad. Muscular as hell. Arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, eyes hard and cold and fixed—not on you, but on Sam.

"’Bout time you got home, Lamby."

Your stomach dropped. Not because of the nickname, but because of how he said it. Because it wasn’t warm. It wasn’t teasing.

It was territorial.

And Sam? He felt it too. You could tell by the way he shifted his weight, by the way he glanced at you, rubbing the back of his neck before stepping back, voice soft, awkward.

"I had a great time."

"Me too," you said, voice smaller than you meant it to be.

He hesitated, gave you a small smile, then turned, walking quickly toward his car, never once looking back.

You stood there, arms wrapping around yourself, watching the red glow of his taillights as he pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the road.

And then—you turned, crossed your arms tighter, and fixed Ben with a glare.

"What the hell was that?"

Ben didn’t answer right away.

He just… looked at you. Really looked. His eyes dragged over your bare legs, the hem of your dress, the soft slope of your throat, the lingering flushed heat of almost being kissed. His gaze swept slow, unhurried, deliberate, before finally settling on your face.

And his nostrils flared.

You shifted your weight to one leg, your jaw tightening, mirroring the way he stood, meeting him with a glare of your own.

And then—he scoffed.

"Get your ass inside," he muttered, stepping past you, brushing against your shoulder as he did, bigger than you, overwhelming in a way that made your stomach twist. "Before I tell your old man you were about to let some lanky fuckin’ two-pump chump feel you up on the doorstep like you’re easy or somethin’."

You bristled. Your whole body went rigid, something inside you snapping.

"If I didn’t know any better," you bit back, sharp, breathless, "I’d think you were jealous or something."

Not your wisest choice.

Because Ben went still. Not in a way that meant hesitation. Not in a way that meant denial. No—he stilled like a predator hearing its prey snap a twig.

Then—he moved.

Not fast. Not aggressive. Just deliberate. Slow. Unavoidable.

Stepping forward, backing you up against the frame of the doorway, dipping his head down just enough so his mouth was level with yours, so his voice coiled low and hot in the air between you.

"I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight," he murmured, so quiet, so rough, "but it sure as shit better not be that fuckin’ pussy’s fingers."

You gasped. Your body locked up, breath hitching, eyes going wide.

And Ben just smirked.

Like he liked that reaction. Like he had wanted it.

Then—he straightened. Stepped back like nothing had happened.

"Better get upstairs, get into your comfies," he muttered, voice gruff, unreadable. "Come watch the football with me ‘n your dad. Or I’ll take you over my fuckin’ knee for the backtalk."

Your breath shuddered. You nodded. Wordless. Weak. Then you turned, stepping inside, feeling the weight of his eyes on your back as you headed upstairs—

And you knew.

You knew that nothing about tonight had been normal. That something between you had shifted. Twisted. Changed.

You took your time.

Stripping out of your sundress, pulling on one of your dad’s old t-shirts—soft, worn, faded, the fabric thin from years of washes, hanging loose over your frame. Bare legs, bare feet against the cool wood floors as you splashed cold water over your face, washing away the night.

Washing away Ben’s words. Or at least, trying to.

But they sat heavy in your head. The way he had looked at you. The low scrape of his voice, the bite of it, the way your whole body had locked up at the filth that had dripped from his mouth.

"It sure as shit better not be that fuckin’ pussy’s fingers."

You shuddered, inhaled deep, let the cold burn of the water centre you before heading downstairs.

The game was still on when you walked back into the living room, your dad and Ben both where you had left them—sprawled out, half a beer deep, yelling at the screen like the players could actually hear them.

Ben saw you first.

His eyes flicked over you, quick, assessing, then—that nod. That slow, subtle nod to himself, like he was fucking appraising you. Like you were something to be measured, studied, cataloged.

You ignored the way it made your stomach twist.

Instead, your dad’s attention finally snapped toward you, and his brow furrowed.

"I been wonderin’ where the hell that shirt went," he muttered.

You just grinned, gave a smug little shrug, before nudging his leg with your bare foot, signaling for him to move over.

"Looks better on me, anyway."

Your dad snorted. "The hell it does." Then, before you could flop onto the couch, he smacked your foot away. "Grab a couple more beers before you park your ass."

You rolled your eyes, but did as you were told, gripping the hem of the t-shirt and curtseying, voice sickly sweet.

"Yes, sir."

Then you saluted him, just to really drive it home.

"Fuckin’ wiseass," he muttered.

Ben just chuckled, deep in his throat, like he was trying not to laugh.

You disappeared into the kitchen, grabbed three beers, popped the caps off, and pressed two of them against your chest as you sipped from the one in your free hand, the glass cold against your skin.

By the time you returned, the game had picked up speed, your dad too distracted to care when you plopped the bottles down on the coffee table and threw yourself onto the couch between them.

"Could have moved your lazy ass, y’know," you muttered.

Your dad just scoffed, didn’t look away from the screen.

But Ben?

Ben side-eyed you, slow and heavy, and when he spoke—you felt it.

"Keep up the cheek, Lamby, and I’ll take that beer off you."

Your fingers tightened around the bottle.

"Don’t know what the fuck you’re so cocky about," he muttered, tipping his own beer to his lips, voice just this side of gruff. "Stealin’ one of my beers like I gave you any kinda permission to."

Your stomach flipped. But you didn’t let it show. You just sighed, long-suffering, exaggerated as hell, before taking another slow, deliberate sip, the bubbles sharp against your tongue.

And then—you settled. Leaning back, letting yourself sink between them, wedged in the space you’d claimed a thousand times before.

Except this time, it was different. Because this time, you felt Ben. Felt the heat of him, so close, so solid, so unignorable. And it took everything in you not to shiver.

Because even if you were watching the game—

He was watching you.

The game rolled on, the low drone of the commentators mixing with the occasional grumble, scoff, or sharp curse from your dad or Ben. You sat nursing your beer, the bottle cold between your palms, the sharp bite of it against your tongue as you stared at the screen, more focused on the way the room shifted around you than on the game itself.

Your dad was getting tired. You could tell.

He tried to pretend he wasn’t—hiding yawns behind his bottle, stretching in that slow, lazy way that meant his body was giving up on the night before his mind was.

You, on the other hand, were stretching out more. Slow. Casual. Your bare feet crossed at the ankles, propped up on the coffee table, legs long and catching the glint of the TV, skin warm under the flickering glow.

And Ben noticed.

You felt it, even if he didn’t say a word. Instead, he reached for his cigarettes, shaking the pack once before holding it out toward your dad.

Your father just waved a lazy hand, shaking his head. "Not for me, but might as well light one up in here. Don’t drag your ass outside on my account."

Ben just nodded. Grunted. Then—he lit up, fingers steady, bringing the cigarette to his mouth, holding it between his lips as he inhaled, slow and deep.

The scent hit you instantly—smoke and something deeper, something heavy and masculine, something that made the air feel too thick.

Then your dad yawned—loud and unrestrained.

"Shit, I’m beat," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "You’ll gimme a ring tomorrow or somethin’, tell me how it ends?"

Ben just grunted again, smoke curling from his mouth as he nodded.

Your dad turned to you next. "Lock up after him when he heads out, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," you murmured, waving him off.

He just rolled his eyes before disappearing upstairs.

And then—it was just you and Ben.

You went to shift over, to slide into your father’s now-empty spot, but—

Ben clicked his tongue.

Your breath hitched.

Not because of the sound—but because he didn’t even look at you when he did it. Just sat there, lips still wrapped around his smoke, one arm swinging lazily over the back of the couch, his whole posture relaxed, commanding.

"Stay put."

So you did.

But the shift in weight, the pull of gravity, had you falling into his side—your shoulder brushing up against the heat of his broad chest, pressing up into the space right under his arm.

And that was when it hit you.

The smell of him.

The mix of soap, sweat, beer, and smoke, clinging to his skin, wrapping around you like a hand at the base of your neck. It made your head feel light, your skin too tight, your thighs press together just a little too much.

You took a sip of your beer, trying to steady yourself, trying to act normal.

And then—without really thinking, without really meaning to—you turned to him.

"Can I have a puff?"

He scoffed. Didn’t answer right away. But that was fine, because you were already reaching up, already plucking the cigarette from his lips, bringing it to your own before he could stop you.

And when you took a slow, deep drag, before reaching up and placing it right back between his lips—

The eye contact?

Was fucking unbearable.

The kind of slow, steady hold that made the air thick and stifling, the kind that felt like something physical pressing against your chest.

Your lips curled into a slow, shit-eating grin. And then—you exhaled. Blew the smoke right into his face.

Ben didn’t move. Didn’t react. Not at first.

Just let the smoke roll between you, let the weight of it settle as he stared right into you, eyes heavy-lidded, dark, unreadable.

And then—he smirked, slow and knowing, that cocky, heavy-lidded thing that made your breath hitch even though you refused to let it show.

"You’re fuckin’ trouble."

You just smiled, all sweetness and venom, voice syrupy smooth.

"Learned from the best."

His expression twitched—just a fraction. He let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face, before finally pulling the cigarette from his lips. His fingers curled around it loosely, letting the smoke rise, twisting in slow tendrils toward the ceiling.

Then—his voice dropped.

"Nah."

His eyes dragged down over you, slow, tracking every inch. His gaze stopped at your thighs, where your dad’s old t-shirt had ridden up, baring just a little too much of your skin.

Then lower. Down your legs, down to your feet.

"I mean it," he murmured, voice gravel, something heavier lurking beneath it. "You are trouble."

Your mouth went a little dry. But you tilted your chin up anyway, feigning innocence.

"Oh yeah?"

He hummed, a slow, lazy sound, before shifting in his seat.

"Didn’t like the way you looked at me earlier."

That threw you. Your brow furrowed, beer bottle cooling between your palms.

"What?"

His jaw ticked. He flicked the cigarette into the ashtray, exhaling through his nose.

"After that little cocksucker left," he muttered, voice low, cutting, "you looked at me with a sharp little glare. Didn’t fuckin’ like it. Not one bit."

That made your lips twitch.

"Maybe that’s because you were acting like an overbearing ass."

The moment the words left your mouth—

His palm cracked against your bare thigh.

Not hard. Not painful. But sharp. Sudden. Enough to make you yelp. Your whole body jerked, legs snapping together, feet moving off the coffee table—

But before you could fully pull away—

Ben grabbed them. Big hands, rough hands, curling around your ankles as he shifted you in one easy movement, and the momentum sent you falling back against the arm of the couch, spine hitting the worn fabric, breath catching in your throat.

By the time you realised what had just happened—your feet were pinned in his lap. And he was staring at you. Sharp. Knowing. Unreadable.

Your stomach flipped. You squinted at him, eyes narrowing in accusation, your body already on edge, already tense. Because you knew. You knew exactly where this was going.

And Ben knew you knew.

His smirk shifted—turned into something smug as fucking sin. And then, he moved. His free hand dragged along the sole of your foot, fingers skimming, featherlight. A slow, deliberate touch.

Your whole body jolted.

"Ben—"

His fingers danced over your skin again, dragging across the arch of your foot—and you burst into laughter. Sharp, breathless, uncontrollable.

"Shove off, you big asshole—"

He only chuckled, voice gruff, satisfied.

"Better keep your fuckin’ voice down," he muttered, pinning your feet harder, his other hand relentless as he tickled along your soles, grinning as you squirmed. "Or your old man’s gonna come down and bust some heads."

You tried to snap your foot back, tried to twist away, but he was too strong, too big, too fucking relentless.

"Dad’s snoring like two bears having a fight up there—" you gasped between giggled curses, thrashing uselessly. "Not even a nuclear blast’d wake him right now—"

Ben let out a bark of laughter.

"Christ," he muttered, still grinning, his fingers raking over your skin again, making you kick and writhe. "You got a fuckin’ mouth on you."

You writhed in his grip, half-giggling, half-breathless, your muscles burning from the struggle as he pinned your feet down like it was nothing. Like you weighed nothing.

"Gonna fucking kill you," you gasped, still kicking uselessly, your ribs aching from the laughter that you hated, that you didn’t want to be enjoying as much as you were.

"Oh yeah?" Ben drawled, voice low, amused, unbothered as hell. "You ‘n what army, Lamby?"

Your frustration surged, and before you could think—before you could talk yourself out of it—

You got a leg free.

And with one smooth, defiant movement, you lifted your knee, stretched your leg out, and pressed your toes against his jaw, pushing his face away.

"This one," you muttered, breathless, still flushed from the tickling.

And for a second, everything stopped. Because Ben froze, his fingers locked around your ankle, catching it before you could pull away, holding it there.

And then—his gaze dragged down your leg. Slow. Deliberate. Lazy in the way that only meant he was taking his time.

You felt it.

Felt his touch, felt the way his fingers tightened, felt the way his eyes swept over your thigh, over your skin, the places where your dad’s old t-shirt had ridden up, the hem curled high from how you’d been squirming—

And then, he saw.

His stare landed on the place between your thighs, on the thin, soft fabric of your panties, barely visible from the angle you were sitting at.

And your entire body lit on fire. Your stomach plummeted, heat spreading up your spine, over your chest, over your face, until you felt like you were glowing under his gaze, burning under it.

And Ben sucked in a sharp breath.

One second. Two.

Then, suddenly, violently, he shoved your leg back down, his fingers gripping too tight for a beat too long before letting go.

He sat up straighter, bracing his elbows on his knees, reaching for his beer like it was the only thing in the room that made sense.

The bottle tipped against his lips. He took a long pull, his throat working, his jaw tight, his whole body stiff.

You just stared at him. Stared at the way his shoulders rose and fell, the way his fingers twitched against the glass, the way he muttered something too low to catch, barely audible under his breath.

And you wanted.

You wanted so fucking bad—

To crawl into his lap, to trace the sharp edge of his jaw, to tangle your fingers in his hair, pull, make him look at you the way you needed him to.

Because he looked so fucking good like this. Like a mountain of a man, big and broad and sturdy, something you wanted to climb, sink onto, plant your flag in.

Your fingers tightened around your own beer bottle.

You tipped it back, taking a long drink, letting the liquid burn its way down, grounding yourself, steadying yourself.

Then—without a word—you shifted, leaning forward to set the bottle on the table, before settling back into your new spot.

Your feet still in his lap.

Ben didn’t react. Didn’t flinch at the contact, didn’t shove you off. He just watched the game. And after a moment, his hand—big, warm, heavy—started rubbing absentmindedly over the arch of your foot.

The game had all but faded into background noise.

The occasional roar of the commentators, the distant sounds of the crowd—none of it mattered. Not when his hands were on you. Not when he had been absently kneading his thumbs into the arch of your foot for the last ten minutes, rolling slow circles into your skin, his grip firm, practiced, easy.

You could feel the rough heat of his callouses, the way they pressed just right, the way his fingers flexed, working the tension out of your muscles like it was second nature.

And he wasn’t even thinking about it.

That was the best part.

Ben was just sitting there, cigarette balanced between his lips, rubbing slow, absentminded strokes over your skin while he watched the game, like he hadn’t once stopped to consider how fucked this was.

So you smirked.

"Let me bum one."

His fingers paused. Then—a glare. Sharp, lazy, warning.

"Cut it with the fuckin’ lip."

But you weren’t done. You tilted your head, batting your lashes, voice turning syrupy-sweet.

"Oh, come on, Uncle Ben..."

That made his jaw clench.

"Let me bum one," you pressed, pouting, teasing, just to see how far you could push. "You know you wanna."

And then, just to twist the knife—

"Corrupt me a little bit."

That did it.

Ben sucked in a sharp breath, something dark flickering through his eyes, his whole shoulders locking up—

And then his cigarette fell. Right into his lap.

"Shit—!"

He jerked upright, cussing, ash scattering over his jeans, pushing your feet off his thighs, slapping at the embers, brushing at the fabric as he snatched up the cigarette and stubbed it out fast in the ashtray.

You should have felt bad. You didn’t. Because you saw it. The shape of him. The press of something thick and stiff against his thigh. And suddenly—your whole body went hot. Because you weren’t imagining it. He was affected.

You were getting to him.

Your stomach coiled tight with satisfaction, your pulse thudding at the base of your throat, and you barely even thought before you moved.

You sat up slow, shifting forward, reaching for the cigarette in the ashtray, fingers just about to brush it when—

Ben’s hand shot out. Grabbed your wrist. His grip was strong. Firm. Tight enough to hold you in place, but not tight enough to hurt.

And when you turned to look at him, his face was dark. His eyes were on fire.

"Fuckin' quit it," he muttered, voice rough, almost wrecked, something like threat and warning and desperate restraint all tangled together.

And then, just low enough that it sent heat licking down your spine—

"Or I’ll tan your fuckin’ ass and send you up to your bed snifflin’ and sobbin’ like you fuckin’ deserve."

Your breath hitched. The air between you thickened.

His fingers burned into your wrist, his body coiled tight, his chest rising and falling just a little too hard, a little too sharp.

And you? You should have backed down. You should have apologised, pulled away, let the moment die.

But instead—

You just tilted your head, blinked up at him with wide, mock-innocent eyes, voice so quiet it could have almost been sweet.

"Promise?"

Ben went still. Not stiff. Not tense. Just—still. Like a predator right before it pounced.

And you felt it—the moment he cracked. The moment you broke him.

Ben didn’t say anything. Not at first. He just sat back, spine sinking into the couch, exhaling slow and deep through his nose, his fingers still wrapped tight around your wrist.

Then—he shifted. His body sprawled wider, his legs spreading, one arm draping across the back of the sofa, his whole presence turning into something vast and unavoidable, taking up space like he was daring you to crawl into it.

And he patted his lap.

"C’mere."

Your breath stuttered. You should have hesitated. You should have played coy, drawn it out, but you didn’t. You scrambled. Too fast. Too eager. Hands bracing against his shoulders, knees pressing to the outside of his thighs, you climbed into his lap, straddling him, settling into the space he had made for you.

And fuck—he was warm. Solid. Unshakable beneath you. His hands landed on your bare thighs, big and hot, fingers spreading, gripping you just enough to make you feel held.

And then—his eyes lifted to yours.

"You," he murmured, voice low, steady, edged with something raw, "are workin’ my last fuckin’ nerve."

You grinned. Syrupy-sweet, saccharine, the kind of smile that could make a saint burn alive.

"I’m happy to work something else, if you want."

The slap came fast. Sharp. Sudden. His palm cracked against your thigh, just enough to make you jolt, your breath hitching, your fingers tightening where they had settled against his chest.

"Where the hell’s this fuckin’ attitude come from?" He muttered, jaw tight, eyes dark, heavy.

You shrugged, playing at innocence, eyes lidded, mouth curling.

"Dunno." Another shrug, slow, deliberate. "Probably frustration."

That made him squint. Accusing. Waiting. Expecting.

So you tilted your head, batting your lashes, voice dropping into something honey-thick and dangerous.

"I mean…" A pause. A breath. A glance down at his lips before dragging your eyes back up to his. "You ever thought about how hard it’s been for me?"

He didn’t blink.

"Enlighten me."

You leaned in just a fraction, your fingers smoothing over his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath, the warmth of his skin even through his shirt.

"How I’ve had to spend the last few years," you murmured, voice soft, feigning confession, "watching you walk around with your tight shirts, and your big arms, and that beautiful fucking hair and beard that could give a saint bad thoughts."

Ben huffed. Lips parting, breath sharp, eyes dragging over your face like he was looking for something. Then—his fingers squeezed, pressing into your thighs, holding you just a little tighter.

"One to fuckin’ talk," he muttered.

Your stomach flipped.

"Oh yeah?"

Ben scoffed. And then—he let it out.

"Had to put up with you swayin’ around in those little cut-offs—"

His hands slid higher, fingers flexing just beneath the hem of your dad’s t-shirt, thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

"—watchin’ your ass eat ‘em up every time you walked away from me—"

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

"—legs on fuckin’ show, flutterin’ those big eyes at me like you’re fixin’ to get fuckin’ stuffed."

Your whole body flushed with heat. You sucked in a breath, sharp, uneven, lips parting before your tongue darted out, wetting them.

And then—you mock-gasped. Eyes wide, voice soft, laced with something insidious.

"You’re my godfather," you whispered, tilting your head, watching him twitch at the words. "You’re having impure thoughts about me?"

Ben exhaled hard. His grip tightened—just for a second, just long enough to send a pulse between your thighs. Then he groaned. Long. Frustrated. Dropped his head back against the sofa, dragging a rough hand down his face, looking up at the ceiling like he was praying for salvation that wasn’t coming.

And then—his voice. Low. Wrecked. Raw.

"Christ on a cross."

A breath. A sigh.

"Don’t fuckin’ remind me. Your old man’d fuckin' kill me."

Ben’s voice was low, rough, edged with something like guilt—but not enough of it to stop him. His fingers flexed against your thighs, thumbs brushing higher, the pads of them teasing dangerously close to where you wanted him most.

"If he knew the kinda shit I’ve been thinkin’ about you since you turned eighteen—"

Your stomach flipped. Your breath caught, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your whole body going hot at the admission.

Since you turned eighteen. Since you’d beenlegal. Since the world had decided you were fair fucking game.

You gasped, mock-shocked, but real heat licking through your veins.

"What kinda stuff?"

Ben stilled. For a second, he just looked at you, his green eyes burning, pinning you in place. And then, low, quiet, wrecked—

"Stuff that makes me feel like a fuckin’ pervert."

Your stomach dropped. Your whole body tightened, throbbed, ached. And then you laughed. Low. Sweet. Dangerous.

"I’ll show you mine if you show me yours."

Ben grunted, his grip tightening on your thighs, squeezing, pressing.

You tilted your head, grinning down at him, teasing, watching the way his jaw flexed, the way his fingers itched to grab you harder.

"I’ve been thinking about you when I touch myself."

He groaned. His head tipped back, his whole chest rising and falling too fast, too sharp.

Your hands slid up his chest, nails scraping lightly over fabric, feeling the way his body locked up beneath you.

"I think about how your hands would feel between my legs," you whispered.

Another grunt. A sharp inhale, his fingers twitching, his grip bruising, branding.

Your breath shuddered, your body buzzing, your mind spinning with the filth of it all. But you weren’t done.

"I wonder if you’d let me sit on your face."

His whole body went rigid.

"Wonder if I’d feel that nice, clean beard between my thighs—"

Ben rutted up into you.

A sharp, unconscious thrust, his cock pressing up through denim and cotton, so fucking solid that you felt it pulse against you.

You gasped. Your fingers dug into his chest, your whole body throbbing.

But then—his head snapped back up. His eyes met yours again. Dark. Hungry. And then his lips curled.

"You wanna talk about confessions?"

You swallowed, hard.

"Few months back."

His hands slid lower.

"Stole a pair of your panties outta the bathroom."

Your heart stopped. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat, pulse hammering between your ribs.

"Pretty little pink ones," he murmured, low, knowing, like he was fucking testing you. "Little bows on the sides."

You gasped.

"I’ve been looking for those—!"

His smirk deepened. Then—he rolled his hips into you again. The pressure made you whimper, made your head drop forward, your forehead nearly brushing against his.

"You ain’t gettin’ ‘em back."

Your stomach coiled, tight and hot and pulsing.

"Been using ‘em."

Your fingers curled into his shirt, knuckles going white.

"At first, just sniffin’."

Your whole body burned.

"Then the scent went."

Your nails dug into him.

"So I started usin’ ‘em to jerk off."

A sound escaped you, something breathless, wrecked.

His smirk turned downright wicked.

"Not a trace of your scent left in ‘em now, Lamby."

He ground up into you harder, your panties soaked, pressed against the thick ridge of him through his jeans.

"They’re mine now."

You whimpered. Writhed. Because fuck. He was just as wrecked for you as you were for him. And now—neither of you could take it back.

You shouldn’t have said it. You knew it was cruel, knew it was the final fucking push, knew it was only going to break him more—

But you said it anyway.

"If I’d known that sooner," you purred, voice silky, sinful, designed to ruin him, "I would’ve left more out for you."

Ben groaned. Deep, guttural, wrecked, his fingers clamping tight around your thighs as he dragged you along his cock. Slow. Deliberate. Heavy. The ridge of him pressed up against your cunt through your soaked panties, denim rough, thick, a perfect contrast to the slick heat between your thighs.

"You’re a fuckin’ menace," he muttered, gritting his teeth, his hips shifting up just enough to make you gasp. "Been temptin’ me too much."

You gasped. Let your nails scratch over his chest, let your mouth part into a mock-pout, breathless, needy.

"That’s not fair."

Ben huffed, blinking hard, like he was trying not to look at your lips.

"What’s not fair?" he muttered, voice gruff, strained, thick with restraint.

"Knowing I’ve been batting my lashes at you—" you breathed, voice sickly sweet, ruined, eager, "and you’ve been stringing me along."

His fingers twitched.

"Not giving in."

His thighs tensed under yours.

"Not giving me what I deserve."

The slap came sharp. Not as hard as before, but closer. Higher. Right at the crease of your thigh, just barely missing where you wanted it most.

Your whole body jolted. Your breath hitched. Your nails dug into his shoulders, clinging to him.

And then—his voice.

"If I gave you what you deserved," he muttered, voice low, deep, dangerous, a fucking promise, "you wouldn’t be walkin’ right for a week."

A slow, agonising pause.

"And your dad’d know it was me."

Your stomach dropped. A full-body shiver ran down your spine, curling at the base, settling between your thighs. Your fingers twisted in his shirt. Your mouth parted, a small, helpless sound escaping before you could stop it.

And Ben?

Ben felt it. He heard it. And it made him fucking crazy.

"You scared my date off earlier," you gasped, voice small, teasing, ruined. "You owe me now."

Ben’s jaw clenched.

"Should at least make up for it," you whispered, barely any breath behind it, "by letting me touch your cock."

He cursed. Low. Filthy. His fingers dug into your thighs, a full-body shudder raking down his spine, his chest rising and falling like he was barely holding himself together.

Then—his eyes snapped to yours. Dark. Sharp. Unforgiving.

"You sure?"

The words came gritted, strained, wrecked.

You nodded. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t second guess. Just nodded. And that was it. That was the final straw.

Ben moved fast.

His hand shot up your thigh, rough and unhesitating, fingers hooking under your panties, yanking them to the side—

And then he was inside you. Two thick fingers, stretching you, filling you, sinking to the knuckle in one sharp, devastating push.

You gasped, body arching, your forehead nearly bumping into his.

Ben groaned. His other hand snapped up, tangled into your hair, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you down, down, down—

And then—

He kissed you. Hard. Desperate. Ruining. His mouth slotted over yours like it belonged there, like he had been starving for it, like he couldn’t fucking breathe without it.

His fingers plunged deep, curling, pressing up against the spot that made you quake, made you whimper right into his mouth.

"Keep your fuckin’ voice down," he muttered against your lips, licking into you, filthy, hot, deep.

You moaned, soft, helpless, rocking into his fingers, clenching down on them, your breath shuddering, uneven, wrecked.

"That’s it," he breathed, groaning, his teeth catching your bottom lip, tugging, biting.

His hand tightened at the back of your neck, holding you in place, keeping you locked against him.

"You’re a soaked little thing, huh?"

You whimpered.

He dragged his fingers deeper.

"All this for me?"

Another groan, another thrust of his fingers, sharper this time, rougher, working you open.

"Fuckin’ hell," he rasped, swallowing your moans, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, groaning as he sucked, wet and hot and desperate.

His tongue slid past your lips, licked into you, a full-bodied claim, filthy, unrelenting.

And you—

You couldn’t think.

You could only cling to him, whimper into his mouth, lose yourself in the feeling of his fingers inside you, wrecking you, coaxing you closer to something you’d never felt before.

@mostlymarvelgirl <3

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy #the boys fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys au #the boys smut #the boys x you #the boys #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x female reader #pfiahc writes #my writing

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lewisvinga · 1 year ago

Text

because i liked a boy | carlos sainz x fem! reader

part two.

summary; an unnecessary hate train all because y/n liked a boy

fc; nicki nicole

warnings; death threats, kys comment, slut shaming, cursing , carlos kinda eh here sorry 😣

notes; requested! i would’ve used sabrina carpenter as a fc but i love nicki nicole sm i had to use her 😣

masterlist !

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,003,028 others!

yourusername: 🖤

tagged; carlossainz55

carlossainz55: mi amor ❤️ tq ❤️ [ily]

yourusername: tqqqq🥹

username: so this is carlos new girlfriend? 💀💀

username: oh!

username: well….

username: TE AMO Y/N!!!!

username: out of all ppl you love her??😀

username: she’s prettyyy

username: she’s cute ig😕

alexandrasaintmleux: pretty girl 💗

yourusername: ily!!!

username: alex, run!!

username: didn’t carlos JUST break up w isa ???

username: like 2 weeks ago, i 100% believe y/n is a homewrecker 💀💀

username: baby she’s a whole slut 💀

username: not liking this dark aesthetic, isa was classy and cute this is something else🤢

username: no way this is carlos type 😭😭

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 1,604,938 others!

carlossainz55: vacaciones 🏝️ [vacations]

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: mi amorrrrr 💗

carlossainz55: ❤️

yourusername: the last picture 😭 you’re so unseriouss

carlossainz55: but you love it 🥸

username: hard launching your new relationship 2 weeks after breaking up w isa?? hmmm suspicious

username: CARLOS VACATION PICS!!!!!!

username: ew y/n

username: yall are haters🥱🥱🥱 she’s gorgeous and talented asf !!

username: i knoww, these bitter fans should stay away from her😒

username: we’re not bitter, we’re just telling the truth, isa was 1000x better than y/n🤢

username: this would’ve been such a good post without y/n😒😒😒

username: we miss isa!!!

username: isa was the best wag come on now

username: she’s such a slut

username: why are you dating a homewrecker ???

liked by carlossainz55, itsyoungmiko, and 1,034,203 others!

yourusernams: a week w my faves

tagged; itsyoungmiko, pesopluma & 6 others!

username: not her hanging out w her ex during a race weekend….

username: her and peso pluma were never datingffggg it was a rumor 😭😭😭

username: no carlos???

username: not her missing carlos win just to hang out w her ex 😕

carlossainz55: ❤️ liked by yourusername !

username: we can save you carlos!!

username: hanging out w all those guys, she’s such a slut

username: carlos doesn’t deserve you!!

username: isa is 10x better, she dresses and looks better, is a supportive girlfriend, and doesn’t miss wins just to hang out w a bunch of guys! what a slut you are

username: i think the world would be better without you

username: kys

username: slut!

username: girl just break up w carlos atp we know you’re just a rebound😭😭😭😭

the comments on this post have been limited!

y/n 💗

you know i’m tired of this, carlos.

carlos❤️

mi vida [my life], you know i can’t do anything

y/n 💗

yes you can??

just one post clarifying that you broke up with isa weeks before announcing it publicly and way before you started dating me??

and that YOU made the first move, not me

carlos ❤️

it’s not easy you know

i’m a big public figure, i can’t just post things whenever i want

y/n 💗

carlos, so am i

i have a pr team too

but if MY fans were attacking you and sending you death threats, i would post something anyways

carlos ❤️

it’s not the same, amor

y/n 💗

your fans are constantly comparing me to isa, they’re constantly slut shaming me for even appearing in the back of a picture of yours or for hanging out with my guy friends

they’re sending my death threats , telling me to kms and you won’t do anything?

carlos ❤️

it’s complicated, please, amor

i can’t control them, a post won’t change their mind

please, just calm down and we can talk more when i get home

y/n 💗

okay, fine

yourusername uploaded to their story!

[caption 1; back in the studio 🎧] [caption 2; pov: after pulling an all nighter in the studio😵‍💫 ]

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,029,928 others !

yourusername: ‘because i liked a boy’ out now.

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yourusername: i love uuuuu

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username: fuck the haters bby ur better then them all😩

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username: she ate w this one i fear

username: gagged those bitter carlos fan girls 😭

liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe, and 1,098,726 others!

yourusername: thank you everyone for all the love and support 🩷 and thank you for my girls who have been by my side 💗🫂

tagged; lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt

lilymhe: WE LOVE YOUUU🫶

lilymhe: we need a girls night every night 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

yourusername: i agree 😩

alexandrasaintmleux: always by your side , pretty girl!! 🫂

yourusername: luv luv u🫶

carmenmmundt: all we need is a couple glasses of wine and we tear up the night

carmenmmundt: always by your side 4eva 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🫂

yourusername: i’m not complaining🙈

username: who needs men when you have your girls liked by yourusername !

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yourusername: you think because i liked a boy was the only thing i worked on? soon bby xx

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smau #formula one imagines #formula one scenarios #f1 scenario #formula one social media au #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smau

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struwberrii · 9 months ago

Text

haikyuu!! at an american highschool ⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ

pt.1 here pt.3 here

these are just some of my silly headcannons on how i think hq characters would act and what stereotypes they would be at an american highschool (as an american highschooler ☝️🤓)

characters: kuroo, kenma, bokuto, akaashi, oikawa, iwaizumi

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

kuroo

literally the biggest nerd but sm girls crush on him

the type of guy you gotta hit your friends with the “hear me out” before you say he’s cute

kind of annoying and cocky about his intelligence but ppl still like him

gets real creative about his insults towards ugly people

wears cringey dad graphic tees bc he has no style

crunchy coughs in class a lil too often….

has the oldest most beat up car on the planet like it’s a safety hazard driving that thing

always smells really weird like cigarettes or something despite not smoking a day in his life

debate club.

his note books have like water stains and the covers are like torn apart and look like they were used as a shield during a war

offers all his friends rides but is such a scary driver

makes fun of ppl “lovingly” but he’s lowkey a bully

jokingly owns a minecraft hoodie he bought from the kids section and it’s SO TIGHT it’s a crime to wear that out with his big self

kenma

wears the same clothes multiple days in a row, he don’t gaf he probably slept in ts too 😭

probably doesn’t really smell bad, just kind of…. moist? marinated?

his hair is probably really greasy sometimes

always brings some type of gaming console to school and plays during lunch and during any free time he has

sneaks his phone when he isn’t supposed to and has never been caught

for some reason he sits with cool people despite NEVER talking during class and never going out of his way to make friends (kuroo forces him to hang out with his friends)

raged at his game super loud in class one time and got so embarrassed he begged his counselor to take him out of that class

his grades are ok for someone who never studies or even really pays attention

some of his teachers have gone entire school years without ever remembering his name

has the best comebacks to everyone, he is not afraid to clock you

bokuto

drives the biggest jeep or like ford bronco ever and is actually a decent driver

his parking is TERRIBLE though and he never bothers to fix it

probably would play football (i’m sorry guys) and is constantly at risk of getting kicked off the team for his grades

akaashi helps him study to stay on the team

genuinely the biggest himbo, a bunch of the girls think he’s adorable but he never gets the hint

posts silly gym selfies on his story

book bag has like 1 notebook in it, maybe a pencil if he’s lucky

teachers secretly love him (but not enough to pass him)

i feel like he’d also try and join the swim team for some reason

i feel like he’d eat burger king for lunch :,(

girls confide in him with their drama even though he gives no helpful feedback or advice and just occasionally gasps and goes “no way”

has the most cracked iphone screen on the planet

akaashi

probably taking like half honors classes or AP (idk how it works i’m not at a regular high school sorry guys </3)

gets school iced coffee for breakfast

takes super good and detailed notes and helps bokuto despite being a lower grade

wears the funkiest outfits but girls still think he’s cute

no girls talk to him though because he’s so quiet

always has at least 1 airpod in

sells pics of his notes

sometimes goes off campus for lunch with bokuto, but refuses to eat burger king

other days he probably has salad for lunch

probably in like orchestra but never carries his instrument in the halls bc he thinks it’s embarrassing

bokuto is loud af cheering him on when they have concerts

also sneaks his phone during class but got caught one time and now he’s kind of too scared to use it

iwaizumi

wears those tight work out shirts to show off his muscles

probably drinks like protein drinks in class

has the biggest water bottle ever like bro drinks a gallon of water every period

has a SUPER old iphone or like an android he refuses to upgrade because it gets the job done

always posting about his gains

probably crashed his car and his bumper is like hanging off his car

in like a weight lifting or body building club and is probably the leader of said club

he and oikawa are a very popular duo

occasionally skips class if he ever just doesn’t feel like going

his notes are so vague and short yet he understands and remembers everything he wrote

his grades are insanely good too

literally only wears sports clothing

uses really good smelling cologne but since he’s so active there’s always a hint of must from all the sweat :,(

oikawa

man hoe

he has been in just about every girls dms at some point

his grades are like, okay? he’s not failing

does stuff for female validation, like ik if he had a cat he’d be posting it on his story constantly and like flexing his hand veins

drives a bmw

if he’s actually in a relationship, he’s super loyal tho

his teachers kinda hate him

still uses snapchat and his snap score is like 500k

has decent fashion but dresses mildly gay at the same time

people constantly make jokes abt him and iwa being gay and he gets so mad (maybe he’s projecting idk)

smells a little like vanilla

he and iwa get in n out for lunch and eat in his car

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year ago

Text

gon start this mf off right!

drunk delusions 🔄

everybody knew that when it came to going out ony wasn’t the type. he enjoyed chilling at home or occasionally going to a party to chop it up and smoke with his friends, but as far as going to the club weeks after his birthday for a “belated birthday bash” ony didn’t care for it. nonetheless, the poor man was dragged out of the house by his friends and pushed out by his girlfriend.

you loved your man with your whole heart, but when you saw how excited connie and eren were when they told you their plans you couldn’t help but join in and help them get your homebody boyfriend out the house.

“please ma don’t let these niggas do this t’me” ony groaned, the outfit you picked sat handsomely on his body as he stood in front of you on the couch. you looked up from your phone, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you took in the pouty look your boyfriend carried. “they treating you to a night out papa, be nice”. ony sucked his teeth, pulling you up from the couch so he could stand with his arms around your waist. you instinctively wrapped yours around his neck, letting him rest his chin on your shoulder as he mumbled to you. “ion wanna be nice, i wanna stay wit my baby”

the sound of a roaring engine followed by many beeps of the horn took both of your attention. a smile growing on your face as a loud groan left ony’s throat. “time t’go!” you squealed, removing his hands from your waist before you wrapped a small hand around his wrist and walked him towards the door. as you opened it the sound of the car grew louder and clearer, ony’s annoyance only growing as he looked at his ignorant friends in the car. eren was in the drivers seat, the passenger door wide open for your boyfriend to enter as yelena stood outside the car. before either of you could speak your attention was snatched by the sight of connie popping out the sunroof, two bottles already in his hands as he rapped along to hellcats & trackhawks by lil durk. “i take ha ass off, gimme dem tiddies back bitchhhh! let em loose manita i got ten blunts rolled and enough liquor to flood a house. we goin crazy t’nightttt!”

ony instantly looked towards you, silently begging you to let him stay but you only replied with a happy smile. “have fun!”

what ony expected was to be in some lowkey club, probably sitting at the bar by himself while his friends got drunk off their asses and forgot all about him, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. as soon as they got there connie let ony know that he cannot leave the bar until he finished each of the shots his friends bought him. yelena buying him two shots of tito’s while eren bought a shot each of espolòn and lunazul. connie did the same, smirking as he watched his best friend down the different drinks before dragging him towards the booth he paid for.

“sit down and drink up!” yelena yelled, lightly pushing her friend towards the booth where many other bottles of alcohol as well a bunch of wrapped gifts sat. ony’s eyes widened at the sight in front of him, hidden happiness bubbling in his stomach as a small smirk spread towards his lips. “y’all gon have me crawling outta here”

and they nearly did. all it took was a couple hours and your usual lowkey, mean-faced boyfriend was outside with his friends surrounding him, his head spinning as he leaned on the wall for support.

“ony m’not finna call her for some bs like that” eren said, his eyes low and red from the many blunts they smoked as he gave his friend a lazy expression. ony didn’t pay his words any mind, repeatedly patting his pockets in search for his phone as he mumbled to himself. “ima call her then. niggas think i’m pussy so ima have t’handle my business” connie laughed at the sight of his friend, all a guy did was bump into him without saying anything. if the regular ony was here he probably wouldn’t even have cared, but the regular ony wasn’t here. the man before him tonight was the same guy that connie remembered going to middle school and starting high school with. the hotheaded guy that had no problem beating someone up for something as simple as brushing shoulders with him without an apology. “i got your phone right here” connie mumbled, ignoring the warning looks his other friends gave him as he watched his friend look for your contact name.

you were resting comfortably on the couch face deep in your favorite book. your cami top riding up your stomach as you reached for your wine on the table. before your fingers could meet the glass the sound of your ringtone took your attention. your eyes widened at the sight of your boyfriends contact photo. “hope he alright” you mumbled as you answered the call. “hello?” a relaxed sigh left his lips at the sound of your pretty voice reaching his ears. “mama? s’this you?” a small smirk made its way to your lips as the sound of his deep, slurred speech, you could tell he was absolutely fucked up. “s’me papa, you okay?” ony shook his head, moving off the wall as an upset look grew on his face. “m’not okay…not okay at all princess. smbody gotta get fucked up n i need ya t’come ova hurr wit my gun”

a loud chuckle escaped your lips at his words, your body already moving towards your room so you can grab your keys and one of ony's hoodies. connie’s voice began to come through the phone, his words also a little slurred since he was drinking too. “hey sis, call sasha t’come bring mine too, he not fightin alone” you rolled your eyes at the sound of your friends voice. connie was nearly just as fucked up as your boyfriend. “yea con i’ll call her”

on the way to the club you picked up sasha so she could drive connie and the rest of your friends home while you got ony since they lived closer to her than to you. as the two of you approached the club you were almost immediately met with the sight of your friends surrounding ony at the wall. “alright yall let’s go!” sasha yelled, an attitude rushing through her body as she stood in her tank top and pajama pants. connie turned around at the sound of her voice, a dopey smile crawling on his face as he looked her up and down. “hi mami, i missed you so muchhhh” as he spoke, his hands moved closer and closer to her waist, but sasha quickly slapped them away. pointing to the car for him and his friends to enter. “get in the car so i can get y’all home and go the fuck t’bed”

as the three of them began to follow her to the car you made your way to your handsome boyfriend leaning on the wall. “ready t’go pa? you had fun?” at the sound of your voice ony lifted his head, but his expression quickly went from excited to confused as he got a look at who was talking. “who you? where my girl at?” now you knew you looked at little different from usual, your naturally curly hair pressed to perfection in a messy ponytail, your glasses sitting nicely on your nose, ony's hoodie zipped just below where your cami top ended. stoping just above your stomach so your piercing showed and your short shorts that you liked to wear to sleep. you were completely ready for bed, but it’s not like this was new to your boyfriend so why didn’t he notice you?

“s’me baby, here to take you home” you said, moving your hand towards his wrist so you can lightly grab him. ony saw this and moved immediately, shaking his head as he looked around you as if someone were watching. “miss you gotta get back. my girl crazy furreal nd ion want her t’knock you out” you had to cover your mouth with your hand at this, a giggle trying to force it’s way out as you looked at the fear and confusion on your drunk boyfriend's face. even though you were a little tired you couldn’t help but feed into his delusions right now, a smirk on your face as you took advantage of his current state. “she told me t’come get you papa, didn’t want you attacking an uber driver” you spoke in a sultry tone, your glossy lips taking his attention as he licked at his brown ones. ony stared down at you with low, glossy eyes, shaking his head slightly as he spoke. “nah she wouldn’t do that, lemme call her and check”

as you thought your fun was coming to an end, you began to move towards the man to take a peak at his phone. the screen on your contact before he clicked call and put it to his ear. “can you back up some? ion want her to pull up and see you all in my face like this” as ony spoke you could see the growing irritation in his eyes, his head slightly shaking as he looked down at the ground. he completely missed the part where you lifted the phone in your hand and answered the call, moving away like he said as you pulled your hood over your head. when gave him a small “hello?” ony’s face lit up, the sound of your voice making a smile bloom on his face as he spoke to the woman he’s longing to see. “mama? baby where r'you?” the slight slur of his speech made a smile appear on your face. “coming, why?” ony wasted no time ratting you out to yourself, his eyes briefly scanning you before going back towards the ground.

“this girl tryna get me in the car wit her, sayin sum bout you sending her t’get me. she keep calling me papa n shit too like im her nigga or sum, but im YOUR nigga and i know you wouldn’t send no girl ion know t’come pick me up." your smile grew at his words, a giggle almost sneaking past your lips as you turned around to see his eyes still trained on the ground. "what she look like baby?" you listened to the groan your man let out in the receiver, your back still turned to him you heard him suck his teeth. "ion wanna be starin at her ma, i only stare at you" a small whine left his lips as he spoke, his softer side slowing sneaking to the surface as he listened to your pretty voice come through his phone.

"its okay baby, i need you to look so i can talk to her when i get there, kay?" ony nodded his head, phone still at his ear as he lifted his head and studied the woman in front of him. "aight, she got on a lil white shirt under a grey hoodie n some shorts" he said quickly before turning back towards the ground. you rolled your eyes at this, his loyalty to you never faltering even in his crossfaded state. "what else baby? what she look like?" a loud groan left his lips at your persistence. 'should've just got in the car wit sasha' he thought as he looked back up at you. this time you were facing him. too intoxicated to register the phone at your ear, he looked you over a second time.

"damn" he mumbled at the sight of your pretty face, the diamond stud on your nose shining a little from the streetlight as you pulled your hood down and gave him a kind smile. "sh-she got the same piercings you got, got sum tattoos on her stomach and arms too. her hair up in a ponytail and she got glasses on." as he stared you down, ony couldn't help the twitching going on in his pants. his body betraying him as he took in each go your pretty features. "i can't look at her no more mama she keep lookin at me. can you hurry fore she get me?" you sighed as you watched him return his gaze to the ground, deciding that your poor boyfriend has had enough of your games. "kk im on the way"

you hung up the phone before ony could reply, moving towards him on the wall. "what she say?" he didn't move an inch as he replied, knowing that the sight of you would make him fold. "said she on the way to talk t'you" as he looked at the ground ony couldn't help but notice the anklet you had on your left foot. it looked wildly identical to the one he bought you. the gold complimenting your brown skin perfectly as the diamond plated "o" sat perfectly in the middle. "the fuck you get that?" he mumbled, but since you were so close you heard him. a smile crept on your lips as you lifted his head towards you. "my man bought it f'me and if he gets it together and lets me take him home he might be able to see it dangling by his face soon."

ony's eyes widened in realization, everything becoming much clearer to him now that you were so close. in no time he was on you, attacking your face with kisses as his hands quickly found a home on top of your ass. "easy big boy, if you keep leaning on me like that we both gon fall." he mumbled a small "srry" as he moved back from you a little. "m'fucked up mama you gotta get m'outta here." the two of you laughed as you led him to the car, your fingers intwined as he shuffled his feet behind you. ony couldn't help but admire the way your ass moved in your shorts, the thick, fuzzy fabric moving fluently as he followed each jiggle with low eyes. once again his body reacted to you, but this time his gaze didn't move. ony only licked his lips, stopping in his tracks as he pulled you back towards him.

"cmon papa we gotta goooo" you whined, your tired state making your eyes lower and your voice soften as you looked up at him with confusion written on your face. ony ignored this, sliding his wide hands back on the curve of your ass, this time squeezing it through the soft fabric of your shorts. "y'gon gimme some when we get back?" as he spoke you could feel him hardening through his black jeans, the fabric doing almost nothing to conceal his large print from the world. a small smirk was dancing on his lips, the gold grills on his canines peaking at you as he licked at his bottom lip. you couldn't stop your arousal from growing, his body having the same affect on you as you felt butterflies grow in your stomach. "if you be a good boy in the car i might be able to work sum out"

ony's eyes widened in excitement at the thought of getting what he wanted, his hands tightening on your ass as he leaned down to leave a sloppy kiss on your lips. regardless of the state he's in ony always found a way to kiss you in just the way that'll have you bending to his will. your thighs rubbed together as you tried to keep your horniness at bay. before you could deepen the kiss further he moved his face back from you. his sly smirk never leaving him as he finally let go of you. "m'always a good boy when it come to making my girl nut on this di-" your hand instantly covered his mouth, not letting any more dirty words fall as you cut him off. "boy you better watch your mouth, we still in public." you could tell he was smiling just by the look in his eyes, a smile also sneaking past your lips as you let him go and opened the passenger door for him. "cmon birthday boy, lemme get you home."

finally, he listened to you. his much larger figure moving towards the door before he made himself comfortable in the passenger seat. there was nothing but your later activities on his mind as he let you close his door with a dazed grin on his face. you rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath before making your way to the other side of the car. as you entered you noticed your boyfriend already knocked out in his seat, his lips upturned in a small smile as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. you couldn't stop yourself from snapping a few pictures before starting the car, giggling to yourself as you began your journey back home.

"somebody can't hold their liquor"

#onyankopon x black reader #aot x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black!reader #aot smut #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon smut

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lostinlovingrevery · 8 days ago

Text

Trap

Trilogy! Logan X Mute! F! Reader

The team falls into a trap

A/N: This came out WAY differently than what I originally planned lmao. It started as a fluff piece and turned into a whole ass plot.

Warnings: Plot based, Fluff, Logan being a goof, reader is mute! Sign language is used, also gets referred to as "Quiet" by the villain, reader is a mutant with the power of animal communication/suggestion and is implied to be able to do more, reader gets attacked/chased, slight body horror descriptions, villain may or may not based off an re4 monster lol, canon typical violence, mention of blood, Logan saves you and kills the bad guy (for now)<3

You watched your frosty breath dissipate into the air.

The cold nipped at your nose and cheeks. The leather of your suit had done good at keeping you warm for awhile, but you've been outside, crouched in the snow for hours at this point.

The only source of warmth you have is the sweet little fox who decided to curl up next to you and take a nap.

You glanced down at the furry creature, a small smile stretched across your face as you reached down to gently pat it's head with your gloved hand. It sleepily blinked it's eyes open and looked up at you.

You sensed that it wondered how much longer you were going to be here.

No idea

You looked around, taking in your quiet, scenic surroundings. Evergreen trees stood tall over you, blankets of snow hid the Earth underneath. The only trace of any disturbance was your - and the foxes- footprints. You looked back forward, perched atop of a small cliff, you observed the facility below you.

A place colder than the forest you were surrounded in. It seemed to have been abandoned lumbar mill, but now was a hub for mutant trafficking. A bunch of sick assholes kidnapping mutants and putting them under control, selling them off to fighting rings, slave trades, hell- there's a possibility of military contracts going in and out of this place. An anonymous tip sent to Charles.

The team all felt unease from it. The topic already a dark subject. An anonymous tip meant you couldn't fully trust the source either. What if it was a trap? Ever since the X-men have become a...public entity, the more and more you have felt like you and your friends have become a target.

A team full of mutant superheros? The world hates you.

You can't bring yourself to hate it back.

The fox, perked its ears, turning its head to a new direction as it stared intently. You didn't have to look to know why it was so curious.

"Got yourself a lil friend?"

Logan's voice warmed your cold body, as you smile to yourself, ducking your head as you heard his footsteps approach. The fox watches him with both caution and curiosity. She stands up, taking a few steps away from him, but still close to you.

"Replacing me already huh bub?" He crouches down next to you, and you look at him with the tilt of your head. A big smile stretched on your face as you greet him, before you raise your hands and sign,

Not possible.

His eyes softened at your expression. He leaned forward to peck you on the lips, which only became something more lingering. You gently put a hand on his chest to push him away, only so you could speak.

You should be at your post, You tell him, a raise of your eyebrow, before dropping yours arm back in your lap.

"Got bored. Ain't nothing happening." He says, looking over the cliff. "Plus, I missed you."

You tried, and failed at suppressing your smile as you shake your head. He already knew what you were going to say, a small roll of his eyes.

"Yeah yeah we're on a mission." He says. "What does it hurt if I come see you for a few minutes?"

You shot him an unimpressed look, raising your hands again, It's never just a few minutes with you, my love.

A large goofy grin came across his face, his hand slid across your back, his touch making shivers run down your skin. He begins pulling you towards him. "Damn right it ain't." He mumbles into your lips, capturing you into a kiss once more. You began to giggle, your hands coming up to hold onto the collar of his suit, as you curved your body into his. "You cold?" He asks in admidst of your heated make-out session. You nodded. "Let me warm you up baby."

Before you could react, he began to push you down into the snow- but the fox comes and starts pouncing on him. Excited squeaks coming from her, as she frantically pushes herself between you both, attempting to curl up on your chest and practically screeching at Logan.

"Woah! Hey - I was here first bub." He scowls at the small animal. You laugh, pushing yourself up from the snow, the fox still maintaining a barrier between you both.

We can't, love. mission, remember?

He sighs, reaching out to pet the little fox- who nips his fingers, in a playful way. "Watch it." He growls, a point of his hand. He goes to pet her again, and she allows him this time. "Reminds me of you-" He glances up at you. You leaned back on your arms, tilting your head questioningly. "Little spitfire at first, but can't resist me." He shoots a wink and a cocky grin stretches across his face.

It makes heat bloom in your face as you look away bashfully, then look back at him with lidded eyes.

"Don't look at me like that." He says with a deep rumble in his voice. "I know that look." He voices a mocking tone, "The mission, remember?" He shakes his head. You reached over, playfully pushing him away into the snow.

Despite how his heavy frame couldn't technically be budged if he didn't want it to, he allowed you to push him; while grabbing your hand and pulling you down with him.

Snow fluffed around him as he pulled you on his chest, capturing you in another deep kiss. One of his hands slid across your waist, while the other buries into your hair. Just as he predicted, you melt into him

So insatiable, you thought to yourself. The fox ran playfully around you both.

"Wolverine, do you copy-"

Scott's irritated voice comes across the earpieces you both were wearing. Logan's face contorted into disgust. Scott spoke again and he groaned, going to unmute himself from the comms.

"What do you want, Cyclops"

"Are you at your post?"

Logan looked at you with a quirked brow and you stifle a giggle. "Sure I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I'm looking at you and someones tracker positions and it says you're together."

"Why don't you keep you nose out of my business Summers."

"Logan I swear-"

"Yeah yeah." Logan muted himself and Scott. "Pain in the ass."

You out an amused noise, sitting up and pulling him up by his collar. You sign,

He's right, we should get back to focusing.

"Yeah." Logan sighs, disappointment etched on his face, as he looks at you with kind regard. "Alright." He groans pushing himself up from the ground, brushing the snow off himself. He looks down at you, hands on his hips. "Y'know, we should go away for a weekend, or something'" He shrugs casually- but you notice the tips of his ears turning red, despite his already flushed appearance from the cold. "Just, you and me."

You smile, and nodded. He takes a few steps back, staring at you- like he was hesitant to leave. You blew him a kiss, which seemed to ease him, and he winked before turning and walking away. You looked at the fox who was now sitting and watching this interaction.

She yawns. A tilt of your head, you motioned for the fox to go with him.

Keep him company

She obliges, quickly hopping up and following the tracks that Logan had left behind. You watched with an amused smile, now feeling warm again from your interaction with him.

He was cute. Always wanting to be by your side. He tells you you're imagining things when you tease him about it, but always pulls you a little closer. His little visit to you just now is nothing new, during missions, work, hell even your private meetings he'll find some way to sneak into- force himself to into the topic, just so he can be near you.

He just can't seem to stay away.

Not that you minded. You reveled in his warm body pressed against yours. His voice always soothing you to sleep as he plays with your hair. His large hand calmed your nerves as he places them over yours when you begin picking at your nails. The way he watches you, every detail, with intensity as you speak with your hands.

He always listens.

He was such an arrogant prick when you first met him. You both butted heads all the time, yet somehow, with time, you became soft for the other. You found yourself watching him all the time, you'd blushed, and Jean would tease you for the thoughts that were in your head whenever you saw him - while Charles gave you a knowing smirk.

It was when you walked in on him, staring at a laptop he borrowed from Jean, trying to mimic the sign language video that was playing on the screen.

He was so incredibly flustered, but you just kissed him right there.

You both been inseparable ever since.

Static crackled over your earpiece as you heard Scott.

"We got a situation! Down in the factory-!" He sounded out of breath and panicked, so you didn't waste time to move.

Technically, you were more of discreet part of the X-men. You communicated with animals, and it allowed you to spy and gather intel on anything. You weren't a fighter, although you could fight if needed, and you could also call on your furry, feathery, or scaley friends to assist you; it wasn't a preference of yours though. You don't want them to get hurt in your battles.

However, when it came to your friends, your family. You wouldn't hesitate for a second to throw yourself into the heat of a battle.

The snow crunched under your feet, as you attempted to climb down the hill without falling, searching the area for signs of distress, listening for any shouts. Scott's distress and sudden silence afterward worried you.

Once you reached the bottom of the hill, you stealthily crouched around the old mill. Your eyes searching for something, anything. It unnerved you completely.

Things were too quiet. Too empty. Your eyes scanned the bottom, and you spot a flock a birds- crows, above you, circling the mill, likely in search for a meal.

Using your senses to call out, one flew down to join you, landing on your arm as you hold it out.

It caws, telling you that the mill was a dangerous place. Yes, you knew that already.

What do you see up there?

It informs you about a group of people- fighting, doing strange things. Some of them wearing suits similar to yours. Bingo.

It flaps its wings and takes off. You stay crouched, going along rusty assembly lines that were used to transport logs, going deeper to the large, towering factory until you found a door.

You still kept your eyes open, listening for the familiar sounds of fighting- but it was dead quiet. Other than the creepy creaks of the building, groaning against the cold that freezes it's frame.

You slipped inside to the darkness, only the windows that sat up high allowed for dim light that shined your path through old machinery.

Your steps where the only sounds that echoed through the factory. Other than small drips of a water source unknown, and creak of chains, blowing softly from wind that came through cracked windows.

You had a bad feeling in your gut.

A deep chuckle reverberated through the factory, the source coming from behind you, and the hairs of your neck rose, as you slowly turned around to see where the sound came from.

The man stood a few feet away from you. An arrogant smile on his face. He was tall - very tall. Pale skin, bald head. He just looked like a stereotypical bad guy, the kind you see in a James Bond movie.

"Ah, there she is." He tips his chin up, his voice had a hint of an accent that you couldn't place. His hands going into the pockets of his grey blazer- an absolute awful color on him by the way. What kind of person is not able to pull off the color gray? Everyone could wear gray. Not this guy apparently. "We weren't sure how you would be lured, always hiding you are. It worked out though, didn't it?"

You shook your head, reaching your hand to your utility belt to grab the knife hanging there. "I see great potential in you, beautiful. Do you know that the things you can do go so much deeper?" He tilts his head, taking a step closer to you. "You seem so unassuming on the outside, but that power inside..." He grins. You creased your brows, stepping back as he reached closer. "My colleagues.... They don't quite see the potential yet. They also say the quiet ones aren't fun. I digress. The quiet ones are always fun. Although I suppose I'll miss the banter."

You made a disgusted face, as you set yourself in a stance, prepared to fight. He looked at you with a questioning tilt of his head, and then laughed, his shoulders falling forward as he claps his hands together.

"I was waiting for a response-" He chuckled. "How silly?"

A breath passed, and suddenly he wasn't normal anymore. Your face dropped as you watched him grown taller- his torso seemingly split at the waist- his spine exposed, and extended - making him at least 14 feet tall,. His appearance was something that reminded you of a centipede.

Albeit centipedes were much cuter to you than this asshole.

It made you want to puke.

But his words, that made it worse. He didn't say it directly, but how he addressed you told you everything- It was a trap, it was all a trap. To either kill, or capture you- you loathe to find out.

He lunged after you and you immediately dodged and rolled. You began running away, weaving your way through the poles, and machinery, jumping over various obstacles.

You glanced behind you and wished you didn't- as he was chasing after you on all fours- skittering across the floor with his extended spine - maneuvering the obstacles of the mill with much more ease than you- and closing the distance between you. It was enough it made you want to jump on a chair like a little old lady who saw a mouse and scream, the sight being very unsettling, and you picked up your pace running away.

The only sounds of the warehouse was your frantic breathing, your footsteps, and your attackers laughter. You made your way through the maze you had found yourself in before finding the doors that would lead you outside.

You sensed help outside- the only problem were the doors were barred, keeping you escaping.

You felt a hand on your ankle as you were yoinked and lifted high into the air- a frightened noise escaping you as you attempted to grab something to get away. He brought you up to his face with a big smile.

"Got you!"

You punched him, his head snapping back.

"Ow!" He hissed, his head tipping forward, as a small stream of blood rolled down his nose. "Not very nice, sweetheart."

You attempted to swipe at him again, using your knife you still had ahold of, but he leaned back, extending his arm to hold you at a distance- apparently his spine not the only thing able to stretch. His other hand grabbed your wrist, shaking the knife from your grip.

"What did I say? The quiet ones are always fun. " He hummed, and you stuck your tongue out at him, "Oh, my feelings are so hurt." He mocks. "Don't worry dear, you'll be on my side soon enough."

You were left dangling in the air. You watched him pull out a syringe from his blazer, stretching his arms towards you. Your heart beating out of your chest, you frantically searched for something- Anything, to help you, when you spotted the murder of crows from earlier. All perched along the broke windows, watching the scene unfold with curiosity.

You waved your arm, and they take flight- diving towards your attacker. He yells, jostling you in the air as you swung back and forth as he tries to swipe away the offending birds. He dropped the syringe, and his grip loosened on your ankle, and you slipped out.

You prepared for the inevitable pain that would come to plunging onto the concrete floor- but it never came.

Instead, you were graced with two strong arms, catching you - like a princess. Your arms automatically wrapped around his Logan, as you blankly stare off in the distance- not quite sure how you ended up where you were. You turned to look at Logan, a cocky look on his face.

"Look at that." He purrs. "I got you."

You tilt your head, quirking a brow. He turned to look up at your attacker, still yelling and fighting off the hoards of crows.

"That guys a real weirdo, ain't he?" Logan says, setting you down carefully and pushing you behind him. He clenched his fists, his claws sliding out as he ran forward with a snarl, stabbing them into the legs of the James Bond-esque villain.

The crows took that as their cue to disperse, as the man cries out. He morphs back into his regular size, and Logan removed his claws, before grabbing the man by the collar of his ugly gray blazer, turning and slamming him against the wall. Logan's hold on him kept him up, but his legs were weak as blood stained his pantsuit.

"Who are you?" Logan growls.

He laughs through the pain, shaking his head. "We, are many. I am just one of all. All with the same goal. " He grins, a smile that sent a chill through you, a chill colder than the air inside the mill.

"You always talk like that?" Logan sneered. "There wasn't that many of you out there- and I took care of them all."

The man smirked. "Cut off one head, two more takes place." He reaches shaky hands up to pull open his collar shirt- a tattoo on his chest.

Hydra

He looked at you, a shaky breath escaping him. "You don't know- The power you have ins-"

Logan retracted the claws of one hand, stabbing it into the stomach of the hydra member, he lets out a choked gasp, turning to look at Logan with a sinister smile.

"Don't talk to her." Logan snarls. He pulled back the claws, letting the man fall to the ground. Logan steps back from the limp body, shaking his head. "Fucking Hydra." He scoffs. He turns to you, concern crossing his face, as he walks up to you, his hands grabbing onto your arms gently as he observes you up and down.

You nodded. Signing. It was a trap, they were trying to get all of us.

He nods. "Yeah, we got tricked. You heard one of us on comms, right?"

You nodded, signing Scott's name.

"One of the assholes out there had something sort of dumb ass mimic ability. Used it to draw us all out." He says. "Went a little crazy, but we handled ourselves or-" He clicked his tongue, tilt of his head. "I, handled it." He smirked.

How did you find me?, You signed.

He smiled, and his hand reached out, placing over where you heart beat. "I'm always listening for this." He says. "And when I heard it beating fast- and I wasn't the reason for it, I knew you were in trouble."

You smiled. His hand, reaching up to cup your face, leaning in to press a firm, but loving kiss to your lips. Your hands came up to grip onto the collar of his suit. Your lips parted from each other and he sighed.

"Definitely going away for that weekend soon. Understood?"

You let out a laugh, and nodded. He glanced at the body, then to you.

"What do you think he meant?" He raised a brow, "Bout your power?"

You shrugged. Signing, he said something similar when I came in here. I don't know, and don't really care to find out.

He chuckled, putting an arm around your shoulders. He noted a broke syringe on the floor nearby. "C'mon, lets get out of here. Chuck said he's putting in a call to get this place cleaned up. I think I need a little debriefing, just the two of us, after all this."

You hummed, a hand going around his waist as he led you out. You didn't see him looking at you, a face of concern. He didn't tell you yet, but he found out from the other so-called Hydra members that this trap was solely for you. The details, the why's, were a little fuzzy and he didn't care. All he knew is he needed to protect you. The best thing that's happened to him in a very long life.

It scared the hell out of him. Not for whatever power you might have. The fact that this may not be the only time where everyone gets the wool pulled over their eyes. What if this happens again? What if he can't get to you next time? Hydra could just snatch you off the street, what was the point of this ordeal?

He didn't know anything, but he sure as hell knew that you weren't going to be leaving his sight, anytime soon.

#wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #vans daydreams #logan howlett fic #wolverine fic #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #james logan howlett #the wolverine

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squinch-depraved · 4 months ago

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ripping at the bars of my enclosure... i need more college au 😭 i am begginggg plss! ily 🩷🫶

here's this idk i had a lot of fun with it i can write a continuation of this specific part if y'all want,,,

not proofread/betaread

CW: a lil dubcon-y, facefucking

it's a few days later; your roommate is out of the apartment for the weekend

you're hanging out with all three of the boys in your bedroom, lounging on your throne of stuffed animals and laughing as they all banter

a movie that nobody is paying attention to is wrapping up on your tv, and the sequel is already queued up to play as soon as it ends

"you guys are incredibly annoying," you sigh jokingly, pulling out your phone to distract yourself

"you love us," ted quips back from his spot on the floor, books spread out in front of him

"i didn't think hanging out with all three of you would be this boring."

the boys glance at each other as they process your words, schlatt flipping his textbook closed and scooting to lay next to you

ted does the same, lying on your other side and tossing one arm around you to hold you close

schlatt sets his jaw and rolls his eyes, copying you and whipping out his phone

poor charlie is left sitting at your desk, awkwardly contemplating where he can sit in order to join the fun

noticing his internal struggle, you pat your legs, stretched out in front of you, and invite him to position himself between your thighs so he can still see the film

"why does he get to sit there?" ted complains, sitting up slightly

"because he's the favorite," schlatt spits out bitterly

"oh my god, would you guys chill out? i'll send you all home if you can't be nice. we talked about this."

face warm and unable to make eye contact, charlie comes to lay between your legs, facing away from you

he smiles to himself when you start playing with his hair, enjoying you combing through his locks and wishing he was alone with you

ted is the one that starts it all, snaking his hand under your hoodie on the side opposite him

the movement draws schlatt's attention, and he scowls once he realizes what his friend is doing

he's quick to drop his phone and mimic ted, their arms pressed up against each other as they lay wrapped around your torso

you're all so close that everyone is touching each other in at least some way, and the atmosphere is charged with tension and desire

"you're so warm," ted mumbles, burying his face into your neck

"sorry. it's kinda hot in here with three guys on me," you admit

"no, it's nice." his voice is muffled, but happy

"you should take off your hoodie if you're getting too hot," schlatt mutters absentmindedly

grinning, you wiggle out of their grip and peel off the sweatshirt, leaving you in just your underwear

"oh, fuck. i'm sorry, i didn't know you weren't wearing anything under it," schlatt apologizes, not meaning any of it

he's happy as long as he gets to see tits

charlie turns around to look at you from between your legs and lets out a strangled moan, face going red again as he whips his head back around so he can't see you

"dude, are you okay?" ted asks, chuckling

"he always gets nervous around me, man, he's fine," you tease in return, ruffling his hair

"how can he fuck you right if he gets nervous?"

schlatt raises one eyebrow as he asks the question, smirking cruelly

"true. maybe we should teach him what to do?" ted posits, sitting up and taking one of your breasts in his hand

"i can't believe i thought it would be a while before you guys were good to hang out like this with each other. i feel like you secretly wanted this, or some shit. you're all so eager."

"shut up," schlatt speaks gruffly, fondling the half of your chest ted isn't touching

"charlie, d'you wanna fuck?" you ask him playfully

he stammers a bunch before ted cuts him off

"of course he does. sit up so you can watch us, we'll show you how to make them feel good."

following his friend's orders, charlie scoots to the edge of the bed and sits with his knees held close to his chest, anxiously watching as the other two exchange knowing glances

schlatt presses the first kiss to your neck, ted following soon after

"see how they're squirming under us like this?" the tallest of them asks

"that's what you want. schlatt, rock paper scissors for who gets to eat them out?"

"hey-" you start

"sure. whoever loses takes their chest?"

ted nods and the two duke it out, schlatt laughing maniacally when he wins

"okay, look, charlie," he speaks, tearing off your panties and spreading you open with two fingers

you gasp at the cool air hitting your cunt and shiver, instinctively going to cross your legs and cover up

but schlatt just looks at you, amazed by your stupidity, and forces your legs apart again

"you think you can pull that shit when there's three of us and one of you?" he scoffs

you think for only a moment how much the dynamics have shifted between you since this all started, not letting yourself delve into the fact that you would never have been this pliant for anyone before you met this goofy little trio

"sorry," you mumble once you shake off the thought

"go ahead."

schlatt nods, as if to say, damn right, and spreads your folds apart again

"c'mere, man, sit closer so you can see what he does with his tongue," ted says to charlie as he scoots over

charlie nods and inches closer, leaning down so he can watch schlatt tease your clit with his tongue

meanwhile, ted sucks and bites at your chest, leaving marks littered all over

you're moaning, and so turned on you're shaking

charlie notices first

"hey, y'okay?" he asks, turning to look at you as he softly caresses your thigh

he sounds so loving, it makes you wish he was doing more

"y-yeah, charlie, i'm good. c'mere, come kiss me."

schlatt scoffs against your core as his friend shuffles over and leans down to kiss you softly

it starts out loving, but you end up gripping onto him, tangling your fingers in his hair and moaning into his mouth as both other men pick up their motions

ted is leaving even darker marks and schlatt is furiously eating you out

but you're moaning a lot, and ted notices, pulling away from your torso to flick schlatt in the head

who in turn groans against you and pulls away, your juices still on his chin until he wipes his face on his hoodie sleeve

charlie retracts from the kiss to see what's happening, and you try not to laugh at the absurdity of your current situation

"dude, we were supposed to teach him, you're gonna make her cum before he gets to learn!!"

dazed, you pat charlie's arm and gesture between your legs

"go, you try," you mumble, effectively forcing schlatt out

which makes him pissed

so pissed he comes to bite at your neck, marking anywhere ted hadn't

it's very easy to tell who left which mark

ted's bruises look almost like watercolor, like a romanticized version of schlatt's, whose are dark, harsh, and splotchy

while schlatt nips at your flesh, ted takes the opportunity to come up and kiss you, passionately sliding his tongue in your mouth

he groans when you grip him tightly as charlie presses a gentle kiss to your clit

compared to schlatt's treatment of it earlier, this gesture feels so intimate and warm

charlie starts exploring with his tongue, moaning softly every now and then, which makes you whimper into ted's mouth

you feel the oldest grin against you when you make the noise, and he presses one final soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and rising to his knees

your eyes widen when you see him start reaching to undo his pants

"hey!"

schlatt glares at him, rising to his height

"the fuck d'you think you're doing?"

charlie looks up at you, lost in desire but unsure if he should stop, and you gesture for him to keep going

"i'm getting my dick out. why, where do you keep yours?" ted quips

schlatt fumes silently for a moment, remembering that you weren't only his, and lets out a sharp exhale through his nose

"fine, we can take turns."

"dude..."

ted looks down at you to see if you're okay, and when you just shrug, he sighs and grins before resuming undoing his pants

schlatt races to get his off faster, but ted beats him just barely

they sidle up on either side of you, and you sit up slightly, giving charlie time to adjust and go back to burying his face between your legs

shooting both of them a nervous glance as they tower over you, you shakily take them each in either hand, awkwardly trying to figure out the easiest way to get them both off at the same time

they're both groaning and petting you reassuringly, letting you take your time getting the hang of things

after a bit, you establish a good rhythm, and ted's the first to pull away to use your mouth

"why do you get to go first?" schlatt asks bitterly

"because you won rock, paper, scissors. shut up."

he smiles down at you as he teases his tip against your lips

you giggle and kiss it, savoring the noises he lets out as you kitten lick the tip, still pumping schlatt in your other hand

when you take the full tip in your mouth, he groans and pets your hair, gripping onto it slightly

bobbing your head up and down on his length finally, you run your tongue over every inch of it, desperate to milk all the whorish moans you could out of him

"fuck, so good for me," he pants, holding your head even tighter and beginning to fuck your throat

schlatt opens his mouth to complain, but ted just grabs him and kisses him to shut him up, leaving the room in a stunned silence

except for charlie

poor baby is humping the mattress, face covered in your slick, whimpering softly

everyone turns to look at him for a moment before ted and schlatt turn back to each other

something unspoken has now been broken, and the dynamic is irreparably different after ted's little stunt

but... it's not bad

they seem a bit lighter?

at least, that's what you're thinking right before ted begins fucking your throat harder and harder and then grabs and pulls at your hair as he releases

he pants, chest heaving, before pulling out of your mouth and collapsing next to you on the bed

schlatt is quick to replace him, not giving you more than ten seconds to catch your breath before he shoves his cock into your mouth

you're a mess at this point, moaning constantly between the stimulation from charlie and being used like this

luckily, he's already close to cumming thanks to how you pumped him in your hand while sucking off ted

and the kiss is still fresh in his mind, a new sense of pleasure he didn't know was available to him rumbling deep in his gut as he forcefully facefucks you

tears streaming down your eyes, you're unable to let charlie know you're cumming, so he just keeps eating you, overstimulating you to hell until schlatt finally spills down your throat and you can choke out a weak, "stop!!"

the three look at each other as they catch their breath, contemplating what to do now

charlie's chest is heaving as he tries to steady himself, schlatt's dizzy and has to get water, and ted goes back to staring at the ceiling

"anyone wanna go again...?"

you ask with a tired grin, somehow still desperate for more

they all exchange a look before groaning and laughing, ted and charlie dueling it out in rock, paper, scissors as schlatt comes around to your other side and lays his head on your shoulder

#x reader #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt smut #schlatt smut #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison smut #ted nivison x you #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle smut #charlie slimecicle smut #slimecicle x you #charlie slimecicle x you

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sturnmeovr · 5 months ago

Text

Batman Has Arrived - Matt Sturniolo

Pairings - fwb!Matt x fem!Reader Summary - Two weeks into the break Matt proposed, he pops up on you at a Halloween party. Warnings - Strong language. Sexual suggestions. Fluff. A lil angst?? W/c - 2560 A/n - That tiktok Matt posted had me dreamingggg. It's now no nut November (idk if I'm participating) so I didn't want to turn this into a smut lol. Let me know what you guys think!! 🦇 Tags - @lvrsturniolo @thepubeburgler (if anyone else wants tagged just let me know!) My Masterlist Current series - City of Love (Matt) Current works - part two to You Like me? (Matt) Latest work - Pierced (Chris)

“Code red!” your best friend sounds from behind you, making you whirl around to face her. “He’s here and he’s so pissed,” she tells you before taking a sip of her drink. Your heart drops to your stomach, the drunken haze you’re in isn’t making it better, “you told me he wouldn’t be here!”

“I didn’t think he would be!” she throws her hands up defensively. It had only been two weeks since Matt proposed a ‘break’ between you two. His reason being - ‘he wasn’t in the right mental state for a girlfriend.’ You thought it was bullshit, and it was. Matt had a bad habit of not being straightforward with you. Truth be told, even though he was always the one to suggest a break, he was always the one to come running back. His constant need to go back and forth left you feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted. This wasn't the first time he brought up the idea, in the beginning you'd constantly check in on. After the third or fourth time of him doing the same stupid shit, you decided ignoring him was best.

Already knowing how the night will end, you pour yourself another shot. Before you can bring it up to your lips, “Batman has arrived,” you hear your best friend scoff. She throws a shot back with you as Matt approaches the kitchen island. “Drinking away your problems, huh?” the familiar voice makes you hold your breath out of nervousness.

You roll your eyes almost immediately, “I didn’t have any problem until I noticed you were here.” You were still holding a grudge. It had been six months since you and Matt first started hooking up. He was probably the most confusing man you had ever been with. One minute he’s talking about a future with you, and the next he’s telling you he needs a break, that he's not ready for a relationship. You’d feel a lot better if he actually communicated, telling you what’s truly wrong, but he did the exact opposite. He never told you shit, just springs unexpected breaks on you like your feelings don’t matter.

Even worse, Matt knew you were head over heels for him. Everyone knew. The way you stare at him when he was in close proximity resembled a schoolgirl swooning over her first crush, that’s what it felt like anyway.

“Don’t be like that, Y/n/n,” he says after leaning down to your ear. The loud music blaring through the house made it hard to hear anything. His hands fall to your waist, and he leans you back against his chest, “I only came out tonight so I could see you.”

You tilt your head to get a good look at him. Black paint smears over his eyes making him look more mysterious than he already did. You gape at him, “Batman?”

Matt’s fingers make gentle circles on your waistline, the fabric of your costume bunching up in the process. You were dressed in all black, as a fallen angel. Before the break, you and Matt planned on going as Catwoman and Batman, inspired by Robert Pattinson and Zoe Kravitz. It was one of your favorite superhero movies, along with his. Apparently, Matt wasn’t creative enough to come up with another costume idea. Seeing him in the costume you coordinated for him made your stomach twirl. Little did you know - he was praying you'd come dressed as his Catwoman.

“Fallen angel?” he asks before he spins you around to face him. You nod, a bit taken back with how touchy he was being. Matt wasn’t the pda type of person, just like he wasn’t the going out type. You figured Halloween was a special occasion since it was his favorite day of the year. Matt keeps his grip firm, “you look really good.”

“Are you drunk?” you ask him, leaning in so he can hear you better. Matt immediately shakes his head, “I can’t miss you?”

Sucking your teeth and shaking your head at him, “no.” You let your eyebrows knit together, looking at everything except Matt. Truth be told, every time he suggested a break it left you heartbroken. In a way, you felt like you weren't good enough to be his girlfriend. That’s how the constant back-and-forth shit made you feel, like you weren’t good enough for him.

Your drunken state makes it harder for you to blink away the tears prickling at your eyes. Matt’s hands move from your waist to your arms, rubbing them gently like he’s trying to distract you. “Well, I do,” he tells you, searching your face for answers neither of you seem to have. The reasoning behind all the breaks wasn’t because of another girl or wanting freedom. It was simply because he felt like his mental health didn’t allow him to treat you the way you deserved to be treated, and he knew that.

Sucking a breath in and deciding to stay strong, “I’m not doing this tonight, Matt. I came here to get my mind off of you,” you spit out as you take a step back. You run your finger through your hair, hoping the night wouldn’t end how you expected it to - in Matt’s bed.

Before he can say anything else, your best friend, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, snatches you out of his grip. “Okay,” she stretches out, “that’s enough arguing for tonight.”

Matt’s face drops and he keeps a firm grip on your arm, “what? We weren’t arguing,” he defends himself. You look down at the tight grip on your arm, “c’mon y/n/n. Please don’t be like that,” empathy leaking through his words.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can Chris appears out of nowhere. He whispers something in Matt's ear, making him realize he’s causing a scene. He keeps grip tight as he looks around the room, taking in the people who are staring at you two. Innocent bystanders probably thought he was some crazy overprotective boyfriend. That wasn’t the case though, and it made your heart hurt. Matt being possessive over you was pointless if he never had any plans to make you his.

Six months. Six months you had been fucking him and he still hasn’t asked you out. You were losing hope at this point. You had the ‘don’t go back to him’ talk with your best friend time after time but you never learned your lesson. Nights like this always ended with an angry Matt fucking you into his mattress as you spoke in tongues against his pillow, leaving drool stains on the process.

Chris wraps arm around his brother's shoulder, guiding him away from you, and waving an arm over his shoulder. It was his way of signaling you to get the fuck out of there. You quickly take notion, spinning around and hauling ass out of the kitchen, your bestie close behind you.

“That was fucking intense,” she tells you once you lead her to an empty bathroom, closing the door behind her. You groan, throwing your head back, “did you see how fucking good he looked?!”

“No, no,” she says in a panicky tone. “You’re not going home with him tonight!” She knows you too well. Looking in the mirror, you critic your Halloween makeup, making sure none of it got ruined yet. Your best friend makes her way to the toilet, quickly dropping her pants and squatting, “sorry I have to pee.” You shrugged at her, knowing you’d do the same if you really had to pee.

“I feel so bad though,” you tell her while applying more lip stick. “Bitch, he should feel bad for constantly playing with your emotions,” she scoffs.

“He does. You seen his face,” defending him against her harsh opinions wasn’t uncommon at this point. Y/bf/n was just as protective over you as Matt was. Her knowing every detail about the relationship you shared with him made her question his true intentions towards you. You were never the type to have a friends with benefits relationship, and Matt was pretty much forcing you into it. He hadn’t left you alone since the first night he had you, but he never talked about furthering things either.

“Just because his face says one thing, it doesn’t mean it’s accurate,” she tells you honestly. She had a point, but you knew Matt. You knew he wore his emotions on his face before he communicated them to the world. He held a lot back from a lot of people, you included.

You shake your head in disagreement, but before you can talk, she does, “I know you’re gonna leave with him. But at least tell him what you actually want before the night is over and if he doesn’t give it to you then you need to leave him alone. Matt’s not good for you, Y/n.”

After y/bf/n finishes lecturing you, you quickly exit the bathroom, making your way back to the living room. Only problem was, Matt was standing by the doorway with Chris and Nick, scoping his surroundings in hopes to find you. As soon as his eyes land on you, his feet move in your directions. Nick and Chris in tow close behind him, you’d think they were babysitting their drunk brother, but Matt was nowhere near drunk. He was fuming.

“Y/n,” he calls out as soon as he approaches you. You let your face do the talking, scrunching your nose at his comment. Matt never called you by your first name unless he was serious. “You’re coming home with me,” he states, not bothering to give you an option. He quickly redeems himself, “cause you’re drunk.”

“Right,” you huff, running a hand through your hair, “that’s why.” Matt's lips curve upward a bit like he’s trying to smile but he fights it off, keeping them pin straight. Nick lets out a laugh behind him, followed by Chris. Ear hustlers.

You really didn’t have the time or patience to have your Halloween night ruined. You were a girl who liked to have a good time, so Matt putting a halt on your night made you give in to what he wanted. Anything to avoid the conflict at all costs, you had a soft spot for him. You couldn’t tell if it was black paint he had smeared across his eyes, something told you had to go home with him. Then again, your conscious convinced itself every other night you needed him. Holding out for the past two weeks did neither of you the justice it should’ve. It only made the infatuation worse.

Not even twenty minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of Matt’s car. He sped through traffic occasionally glancing at you with the sour expression still stuck on his face like glue. Two weeks and you were already wasted at a Halloween party, giving any random guy the opportunity to make a play on you. It pissed him off to no end.

Matt knew every time he suggested a break, it broke your heart a little bit more. He couldn’t bring himself to publicly announce your relationship, he feared the attention would ruin it all. If you were soft for him then you’d be soft when the hate comment came along too, and he wasn’t willing to let that happen. As overprotective as he was, he knew he’d lash out at anyone who threw a negative comment your way. He had a soft spot for you, he just didn’t let it show. Deep down, you could sense it every time you were with him and that’s what reeled you in more each time.

“What’s with the looks?” you decide to finally break the silence, cutting the tension that floated in the air. It didn’t matter how mad he was, the Batman costume was doing wonders for you. Matt gives you the silent treatment, mentally scolding himself for practically kidnapping you. He knew it was toxic, and he knew he was the cause of it. The rest of the car ride is silent until he pulls up to his apartment.

“C’mon Matt,” you whine, “I really like the way your face is painted,” pulling the sleeve of his shirt. Not wanting to fight with him anymore, you caved like usual. Instead of letting his shitty mood get the best of you, you made light of it, doing anything you could to make the night end well.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” keeping his tone low and teasing, “you ghost me for weeks and now all the sudden want me, wonder why?” This wasn’t unfamiliar for you and Matt to be so hot and cold with each other. Whether you liked it or not, it happened too frequently. As soon as the door is open, you rush inside to kick off your shoes, stumbling in the process, “slow down!” Matt reaches a hand out, snaking it around your waist to steady you. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you hold on to his bicep in an attempt to steady yourself even more, “I’m drunk.”

“I know, baby. I can tell,” he keeps his grasp tight on you, kicking his shoes off, and leading you to the bedroom. Needles and pins stick into your feet with every step you take, making you take a mental note to never wear those heels again. Matt pushes his bedroom door open revealing his messy room. He never made his room look nice unless he was expecting someone you. In a way, you found it comforting because you knew he didn’t fuck anyone during your breaks. Instead, he sulked, trying to find ways to make the situation better but it never worked. He never put in full effort, and he knew it. It killed him.

You take your spot on Matt’s bed, making yourself comfortable. “I’m gonna go wash up,” he tells you quietly.

“What nooo,” you stretch out, rising to your feet and stumbling in the process. “I told you I like it,” crossing your arms over your chest.

“Seriously?” He asks as he takes off his jacket, hanging it on the back of the door. “I thought you were kidding,” he chuckles. Even though he was still upset over the whole situation, he couldn’t help but think your drunken haze was the cutest thing. He loved how goofy and playful you were, like all the shyness disappears.

You reach out to him, taking the hem of his sleeve between your fingers, “I really wanted to be your Catwoman tonight, y’know,” giving him those seductive doe eyes you mastered years ago. That look made him crack every time.

“The least you can do is be my Batman,” filling in the gap between the two of you. You press your body against his and wrap your arms around his neck, “you missed me?”

Matt hangs his head, making sure he’s ear level to you, “I did,” growling lowly. He places a sloppy kiss on your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine. Matt's hands wrap around the back of your thighs, and he pulls you closer to him. It never failed, as soon as he got you in his possession, there was no keeping his hands off of you. The break ended right then and there.

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toomiieimagiines · 4 months ago

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Umumum, did you see the kissing hcs you did for akito and tsukasa? I would like a rui one if that's okay :3

It feels weird to request something like this

𖦹 hii! don’t feel awkward about it, i’ve been waiting for something cute like this for a while! let’s stop torturing rui for a while, and let him kiss reader!! (o^^o) sorry for hiatus, i have a bunch going on rn but i have a ton of writing qued up now! i’m just using a short one first to tease u guys! lololllll! do u guys like the new bullet points btw? i just think they're the cutest thing! also, i was thinkin of opening up some sort of commission to help with my banners! i can write you a however long fic if you just give me some pointers… or make some for me… i can credit you under every time i use them as well! LOLOLZ

♪ no warnings! (see before one shot for those warnings tho! (＞人＜;))

Rui Kamishiro Kissing Hc’s + more!?

☆ For starters, he was TOTALLY freaking out before your first kiss

☆ He just wants to impress you! Is that so wrong?

☆ DEFINITELY the kind of person who accidentally keeps his eyes open… Scary…

☆ He had never kissed anyone, or even dated! He didn’t want you to think he was weird if he messed up!

☆ Held your cheek so nicely too

☆ He’s always so gentle with you… :(

☆ Was a total wall for a while, he was always really tense…

☆ He did of course lighten up after a while, but not without a fight

☆ After he realized you weren’t out to get him, he turned into a FIEND

☆ “Sweetheart, I've been doing so good, y’know? I think I deserve something…”

☆ “I really missed you today…”

☆ Kisses with him always have a bit of reluctance to them, though

☆ His signature move is the tried-and-true shifty eyes, darting his gaze from yours, down to your lips, and back up again. He just wants to make sure you look into it!

☆ After that, it's brow-furrowing, the passion exploding

☆ Spontaneous kisses are VERY possible with him, throwing himself over to you when something particularly works in his favor

☆ He enjoys kisses that come from hugging the best. Feeling you close AND getting your lips on his? Sign him up!

☆ He’s also one to tease you when you kiss

☆ When you guys are comfortable, you really should watch out!

☆ He likes to pull you back when you least expect it, and WHAM!

☆ Doesn’t just love your lips either! He’s OBSESSED with kissing the top of your head!

☆ Again with the teasing, he likes to play Romeo and kiss your hands too

☆ He likes to be kissed on the cheek a lot, especially if you wear makeup and leave a kiss mark!

☆ Parades it around like a trophy

☆ The most offended you’d ever see him is if you wipe his kiss off. NEVER wipe his kiss off. He’d never kiss you again in fear he’s an awful kisser

☆ His kisses never really get spitty. If you want constant teeth clattering or biting, he’s not the one for you…

☆ Only time anything hasty happens is when he’s really upset

☆ He loves you - a ton - so please be nice with him too..

ayyyyy!! who’s proud of lil ol’ me?? here’s a mini mini oneshot! not long at all, but i thought the idea was cute! now that i think abt it, this was more just my musing… has a kissy kiss tho, so yay! it’s REALLY OOC sry… i’m rly not all that proud of this work, but it’s embarrassing how long it’s been since i’ve posted so i decided whatever take wut i give ya!!

TW: small issues with eating (rui has autism and trouble with textures (mild ARFID), you help him by trying to make nutritious food he won’t want to spew. . lmao… his problem has NOTHING to do with body image/weight, he’s just very particular..)

Rui wants to kiss you, you want to kiss Rui, and its causing you trouble.

It's been 4 years since you've been friends, 2 days since you've been dating, and you've been staring at each other for… how long are these stupid periods? Whatever, the short story is; the teacher made a million-dollar mistake (letting you two partner up for a group project), and everybody in your class is suffering because of it.

It's a classic story, you talk like everything’s normal, brush hands, look away, sputter something out, stare at each other, and freeze when you realize the other is staring right back. People - yourselves included - have seen you two be so natural together, so the simple fact of you two being so awkward is… unsettling. Little did they know, you both are going through some of the worst identity crises known to the angst-riddled teenage mind.

Rui is scared. To expand, Rui is scared of how much he wants to kiss you. To expand further, Rui is scared of how much he wants to kiss you, because you look so nervous around each other all the time since the thing, and he knows that asking you would be awkward enough to want to dig himself a grave out of embarrassment.

He wishes you would just wear the pants and ask, as horrible as that sounds. Why should he be the man and make the first move? He’s hardly manly, he wears striped sweaters…

He finds that way of thinking farcical, he knows it’s dumb to wait for you to ask, but he can’t help it. You asked him out (kinda, it was a genuinely… unique experience), and you should be the one to initiate a first kiss. Rui had never kissed anyone before! Can’t you take one for the team? He’s sure you’ve kissed people, how could you have not?

You were thinking the same thing, of course.

I mean, you already had to make him sit through your painfully long-winded and uncoordinated confession, the least he could do is this! He's definitely kissed someone, you decide, you haven't! It isn't fair to expect you to know what to do!

To everyone else, said simply, you both look schizophrenic.

The way you two decide how to split up the work, the way you two talk to each other as if you're perfect strangers, is confusing for both of you.

“O-Oh, uh- I can- y'know- I can do the writing, I don't mind-”

Your hands graze the others while reaching for the cheap school laptop.

“Sorry!-” You both squeak in unison, pulling away as if you had burned each other. Damnit! This is so annoying! You have to speak up.

“Rui we’re- c'mon, you're still my best friend, so why’re we acting like this?-” You try to laugh, covering your face in frustration. “Be normal, we do this all the time.”

Fortunately, he loves you more than his embarrassment, so your words quickly calm him down.

You both are just so dramatic!

Later, the lunch bell saves you from the hell-sent assignment, and you meet at your usual spot for lunch. You pull two lunch boxes out of your bag, and he grows anxious.

He squints at the sun, his hand cupping his face. “It’s been warm out, even for me. Do you think so?”

Really, Rui? You want to say, small talk? Is this to get out of the real food you want to feed him? Yeah, right.

“You’ll be pretty warm when I strangle you.” You remark, handing him his. “Heard you get sweaty when you fight for air, so you better not piss me off.” You point for emphasis, forcing down your smile. He has to keep from smiling too.

“Well, now i’m feeling nauseous,” he looks away, chuckling. “I think I’ll call someone..”

“Yeah, right. Like you’d find someone else to cut you cutely-shaped vegetables.” You nudge him with your shoulder, pointing again to his lunchbox as if to say eat. Eat now, or die later.

“Maybe a toddler's mom,” He pokes his veg to the side, “or a professional lunchbox maker. Something stupid like that.”

“I bought you soda candy if you’re a good boy and finish all your vegetables.”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” He fake saluts, looking at his lunch with a new-found determination.

“You're too easy, I should be a dog trainer.” You sit, watching him inspect the offending food. He knows you're watching him, and you know he knows you're watching him. You do it because it gives him a reason to actually try, letting him know that if he doesn't eat, you won't.

“You really went with a challenge today...” He squints.

“Why’d you think I bought soda candy?”

“Ah.”

A beat, you glare at him.

“Are you just going to look at it?” You prod, he ponders.

“What's my conversion rate?”

“Two bites to one candy.”

“That seems greedy.”

“Candy-flation. Its a real issue nowadays.”

Another beat, you have to pick up the silence again.

“So whats the plan?”

“You can eat, y'know. I'd rather you not starve to death.”

“Feelings mutual, Rui.”

“Touché.”

He picks one thing up, bringing it to his lips, and you do the same. You smile cockily, knowing he gave in.

“It's good, I promise. I only cooked ‘em for a little bit, so they shouldn't be too mushy.” You speak up, a piece of chicken in your cheek. “I even put meat in it, since you complained last time that it was too “vegetable-y”.”

He nods, chewing slowly with apprehension filling his body. As he continues to chew, however, his reluctance melts away slightly. He always doubts you for nothing! Why doesn’t he trust you? This isn’t bad at all.

“Good, huh? Proud of you,” you encourage. “Rui 2, broccoli 0. Hold out your hand.” You instruct, placing a candy on his palm. “Give me some feedback. Is the sauce a Rui yay or nay?”

“Makes broccoli better, so I like it.” He nods, confirming himself. You fist pump, thrilled he enjoyed it. He sighs at the taste of the sweet gummy, “I like this better though, if you could believe it.”

“Rui liking candy? I don't!” You feign surprise, holding a hand to your chest. He pushes you away playfully.

“Whatever,” he pauses, swallowing. “Do I uh- Do I have to finish?”

“If you wanna live, then yeah.” You joke, holding up an unconvincing first. He laughs.

You two forget about your shared desire, if only for a little bit.

It ends when he walks you home.

You guys were completely normal the whole school day! You both don't know where the sudden apprehension is even coming from, and it’s just…

awkward.

Rui clears his throat, pulling on his coat with an unneeded sense of urgency. You don't know why he felt the need to get your attention, you've been sneaking glances at him for the last 15 minutes.

“So, uh-” he starts, looking away. You know he's about to try for small talk, and it's welcome. “Tsukasa got sick, can you believe it?”

Ah, you were wondering why he didn't have anything to do today.

“I feel bad for his parents, I’d hate to have to nurse ‘kasa back to health,” you snicker, and he joins in reluctantly.

“Me too.”

Another round of silence overtakes the two of you, it’s suffocating.

“So I-“

“Would you-“

You both start, then stop just as quickly. The stifling atmosphere of your shared embarrassment leaves you both speechless.

“Sorry.”

You two don’t try to start again, not until you two reach your house.

“So…” you start. Everything feels so surreal. If you would've told yourself three days ago you'd be in a relationship with your best friend, you’d have never believed yourself.

“So.” He agrees, nodding. He's feeling as messed up as you are, he hopes you know that… “I can get started on that project tomorrow-”

“C'mon, Rui!-” you exclaim, grabbing his hands. You're sick of the tension - the apprehension - you just wanted to know where he was with it. Did he not want to be in a relationship with you? “I- Can you just tell me if you wanted to stay friends? This is so awkward!”

“It's not that, truly.” He defends, squeezing your hands. He can't believe you'd think that. Can you not see how endeared you are to him? A wave of relief washes over you, though. At least that suspicion wasn't confirmed. “I just- well…” He starts, getting flustered, “I get nervous…” His voice goes quieter, and he pulls you closer.

You swallow hard, your faces closer than before. The urge comes back- the feeling of desire to not only call him your boyfriend (something that already leaves a fuzzy feeling in your stomach), but to do romantic things with him. To touch him, hold him, breathe him in- even simply kiss him. Those things are why you decided to even tell him in the first place, why you were so discontent with your previous friendship.

Rui felt the same way too. He found his heart utterly devoted to the idea of you, and not much else. He saw in himself a restless animal, listening to every word you said like it was poetry.

All of this is to say that you two were at an impasse.

“Rui,” you beg, staring into his eyes, “let's be weird! I want to do things for the first time with you! I want to-”

A hand on your cheek breaks you from your monologue; your heart tightens.

Rui looks down at you, his expression something you can’t completely describe. He stares at you back, then he goes down to your lips, then back at you.

His voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence.

“Is this okay?”

You freeze. Is what okay? Why is he looking at you like that? Your knees turn into jelly as you realize.

Oh, he wants to kiss you.

You nod feverishly, leaning in.

Your collective thoughts quiet when your lips connect, and for once you’re not worried about trivial things like tension. It’s wonderful - still very reluctant, both being terrified of disappointing the other - but still heartskippingly amazing.

His eyebrows furrow as he deepens the kiss, moving off of pure instinct. He’s glad his first kiss is with you - he wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s no teeth, no fire, just small bursts of heat. You two have never been the kind to be rough with each other, after all, and it’s shown in the way you take care of one another.

His knees lock at the feeling of total gentleness from you, basking in the way you feel. It’s a calm reminder to both of you that; yes, you love each other, and no, you’re not just friends anymore.

like all good things, though, it came to an end eventually, as you two unfortunately had to breathe. (That isn’t to mention the fact that the blistering heat - combined with the strenuous activity, and embarrassment of doing this while standing on your very seeable porch - was leading you both to an embarrassing amount of perspiration.)

He looks down at your connected hands then back up at you, his face giddy and lopsided. “I should go home before it gets too dark, huh?”

You laugh too, heart pounding at the feeling of puppy love. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It’s not a question, it’s a promise. A promise that you WILL be at school and WILL speak to him like normal.

“‘Course,” he confirms.

He walks home just a little quicker that night, anxious to tell Nene all about it.

(the ironic thing, is that as soon as you closed your front door, you texted her too.)

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