#so so. like. like i feel like i could meet someone and they could tell me yeah my dad was [insert every gustav trait here]

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saddle Me Up, Cowboy Part 1: Spin Me Around the Dance Floor✨

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for encouraging me to write this! Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone heavily inspired this short little series. I hope you enjoy 🩷

Chapter Summary: You were only trying to enjoy your drink and watch the different couples spin around the dance floor at your favorite country club, but all that changed when you set your eyes on a certain handsome brown-eyed cowboy.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Lots of fluff, flirting, pining, two stepping, meet cute at a country western bar, no use y/n, no outbreak au, switching POVs, soft! Joel, summer love, reader has hair

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The neon lights flash across the busy dance floor as bodies sway back and forth to the slow country tune. Smoke permeates through the air as couples hold each other close and the men spin their lovers around the wooden floor. You love two stepping, love the rustic feel of the bar, love the feel of your jean shorts and fitted cowboy boots. You just love being here on a Friday night in your favorite country bar called Cowboys. 

   You stir the straw slowly around in your mixed drink, your elbow leaning against the side of the dance floor, toes tapping on the bottom of the barstool. And as you watch the happy couples spin across the floor, you can’t help but wish that was you out there. 

   When was the last time you came here with a date? Maybe two years. 

   Sure, you’ve been asked to dance. Took a twirl around the room twice with some nice blonde guy that talked about his job and dogs. But it was just friendly and casual. Just a way to spin around the dance floor a couple of times. It wasn’t a perfect match with your cowboy lover. That’s someone you haven’t met yet.

   Tonight, maybe you’d find someone. The one. A girl can dream, and that’s exactly what you do. Dream.

   Another two songs fly by as you sip your fruity drink, watching couples come and go on and off the dance floor. A slow Morgan Wallen song floats through the packed room, your eyes roam around the bar, falling on the far right corner. Just when a couple spins out of the way, it clears your view to the opposite side of the dance floor. And oh my God, your heart drops out of your chest.

   You nearly choke on the fruity liquid, your jaw dropping straight to the floor. There, right across the room, stands the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

   He’s tall, well over six foot. His green button-up flannel clings to strong biceps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider down into massive hands. His hair is dark and sandy, silver threaded through his tousled curls and burrowing into the thick beard against his sculpted jawline. He’s tan, dark from working out in the sun, you think. And his eyes look like the color of chocolate almonds from what you can tell under the dim lights. And his smile. Jesus, it could light up an entire room. 

   Soft. He looks so soft the way he holds the flute of his beer bottle, the way his eyes light up every time he laughs with his friends. And God, you’d kill to see him smile at you like that.

   You keep your gaze on him, staring like a child in a candy store, eyeing the last Hershey’s bar on the shelf. And it’s like your first school crush all over. You need to get a hold of yourself, but you just can’t. He’s too tempting, too smoldering, too perfect.

   And in the next moment, his eyes are on you.

—

   Sweat beads Joel’s forehead as he takes another swig of his beer, a chuckle leaving his lips as Tommy teases Maria and pulls her to his chest. She just laughs and kisses him on the cheek as he wraps her in his leather jacket. Joel wishes he had someone like that. Someone to love as much as Tommy loves her. Maybe someday he would.

   “You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Tommy asks, his brown eyes trained on Joel. 

   “Eventually,” Joel mutters, sighing as he takes another generous sip of the strong alcohol. 

   “Better before the end of the night,” Tommy laughs, pulling Maria by the hand to the dance floor. Before Tommy turns away, he gives a brotherly shove to Joel’s shoulder and winks. “Pretty girl at twelve o’clock, straight across the room. Go get her, Joel.”

   Just as Tommy leaves him with a confused expression, he looks up and freezes the minute he spots you. He gulps and sets his beer on the table, his fingers curling into the wooden tabletop, eyes wide when your eyes meet his.

   Big, glittering, beautiful eyes swallow him whole, the swirling lights making them glow even brighter. He catches his breath and has it knocked right back out of his chest again as a shy smile curls against your glossy red lips. He thinks he just fell in love. 

   Your pretty hair falls in long waves down your shoulders; your low-cut tank top sticking to your sun kissed skin shining under the bright spotlight. It’s like an angel sits before him, and he’s mesmerized. Your tight denim shorts hug your curves, and your tan boots with embroidered butterflies scuff against the barstool. Your pretty eyes flick down to your drink and back up to him repeatedly, sweetly beckoning to him to come ask you to dance.

   Shy, sweet, adorable, beautiful. He picks all this out just by looking at your pretty face. And you’re just his type of girl; he already knows it. He thinks you were made just for him to find tonight.

   It goes on like clockwork for the next few songs. Shy smiles, locked eyes, hesitation permeating through the thick, smoky air. But he won’t hesitate for long. No. He wants to know you, to dance with you, to take you out, maybe show you his ranch. 

   He just has to have you. And he will. You’ll be his by the end of the night.

   After an encouraging slap on the back from Tommy, he takes one more glance your way and hands his tan cowboy hat to Tommy. Right now he only has one task at hand, and that is to ask the pretty girl to dance. So, he swallows all his nerves and walks across the room, right through the sea of endless bodies. 

   Right to you.

—

   Your cheeks burn hot as you lock eyes again; a flirtatious game you’ve been playing for the past two songs. You practically feel on fire with the way your body reacts every time he looks at you. 

   Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. You hope he does because you have a feeling being in those big, strong arms would be like jumping into a freshly made bed after a long day at work. Warm and cozy and made just for you. 

   You bite your bottom lip and laugh as your head drops to the scuffed-up wood, a loose curl falling over your shoulder. How can you already like someone this much when you don’t even know them? Sounds pretty silly, but it gives you tingles in your feet just the same.  

   This is a good sign.

   When you look back up, your heart drops to the floor when you don’t see the handsome man standing across the room anymore. You slide further down in your chair and sigh, letting all the hope fizzle out of your tired body. 

   He left. You just wanted one dance. That’s all you wanted. One fucking dance.

   You sigh quietly and look back out at the spinning bodies on the dance floor, shaking off the growing tears in your eyes. Just when you think one might drop, your body freezes when you hear a husky, deep voice being cleared next to you. When you turn to look at who just interrupted your sulking session, you nearly fall off the barstool.

   It’s him. The man with the pretty brown eyes.

  “Hi.” His deep voice floats through your ears like a dream, and the music seems to disappear altogether.  

   “Uhh—hi,” you stammer out, your mouth agape as you watch a small smile curl against his inviting lips.

   “‘M sorry if this comes off as rude. But what’s a girl like you doin’ sittin’ on the sidelines, darlin’?” His thick Southern accent drawls out, and your eyes immediately widen when you hear how deep and staccato it sounds. You think you could listen to it all night long.

   Darlin’. He called you darlin’.

   Your words fail you, so you just brush off his apology and smile. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink?”

   He chuckles and shakes his head, a tousled curl falling into his forehead. You want to brush it back for him. That soft looking sandy hair. “Well, sure ya can. Didn’t answer why you’re sittin’ over here by yourself, though.”

   “My friends are dancing,” you shrug, spinning your straw nervously in your drink, letting the liquid slosh around the sides.

   “Now how come a pretty thing like you ain’t out there with ‘em? Hmm?” His thick eyebrows raise in question, and another dreamy smile meets his face. 

   God, he’s so handsome.

   “Oh, I dunno. Was just watching,” you answer nonchalantly, not pointing out the fact that they’re all taken and you’re not.

   He hums to himself, his eyes flicking to the dance floor and back to you after a few seconds. “You wanna dance?” he asks softly, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the hope that you’ll say yes.

   “Huh?” you say off guard, your eyes wide at the question. 

   He just asked you to dance.

   “Do you wanna dance with me?” he asks again, nudging the side of your boot with his own worn leather boot.

   “You’re asking me to dance?” you question.

   “Ain’t that what I asked?” he chuckles, causing your stomach to somersault with the way his infectious laugh is making you feel. All warm and tingly.

   “Oh. I umm—okay,” you smile shyly, looking up through your long eyelashes at him. 

   “Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asks with a big smile.

   “Yes, I’d love to,” you confirm with a nod.

   “Well, c’mon then.” He holds out his open palm, and you don’t hesitate to take it. 

   Warm. He’s so warm. Rough, calloused hands that hold yours perfectly. A match made in heaven.

   He leads you to the middle of the dance floor, careful not to get in the way of any other couples. And then he slowly slips a hand around your waist, the other securely latched to your hand, his fingers laced through yours. And when he starts to lead the dance, you follow right after him.

   The bright lights land over him, putting his beautiful eyes right on display for you. Your breath catches when you see how soft his eyes are. Dark brown like the color of honey and onyx flecks swirling in his irises that hypnotize you to him. He’s absolutely beautiful. You’ve never seen eyes as pretty as his; ones that draw you right in. And the way he’s looking at you, all soft and like he’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world makes your knees a little wobbly. 

   The neon signs on the walls glow in the distance, the melodic tune of a Scotty McCreery song floats in the background while couples dance around you. Joel leads you around the dance floor, holding you tight and never once stepping on your feet. 

   You scuff your boot over his toes out of nervousness, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just chuckles and pulls you closer to where you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, his brown eyes staring into yours like he’s enamored by you. But he’s got your full attention, and you’re so into him already.

   “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, his Southern drawl completely melting you at the sweet sound. You tell him yours and when your name slips off his tongue, you nearly fall to your knees in awe.

   “And yours? What’s yours, Cowboy?” you ask over the loud couple that whips around you. 

   “Cowboy, huh? Already got a nickname for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the nickname like he wants you to say it again. And maybe you will.

   “Maybe so,” you giggle, relaxing into the dance as he spins you around in circles, the lights following your movements.

   “The name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He tips his head and gives you a big smile. You can’t help but giggle every time he smiles at you. It’s like you’re in first grade all over, and Joel’s the new, cute boy that’s caught your attention in class.

   “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.” 

   “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he smiles, keeping you close to his warm body. You let out another nervous giggle, and it just makes him smile wider like he’s addicted to your laugh. 

   “I like your laugh, darlin’. Could listen to it all night,” he sighs dreamily, chocolate eyes melting as he looks intensely at you, honing in on just you while the rest of the room disappears. Your breath hitches for just a second, and then you melt right back into him.

   “Well, I like your brown eyes,” you lull, your eyes locked on his pretty pools of honey. You giggle when he blushes, and then a dimple indents into his left cheek when he smiles. And God, you think you just fell in love. 

   “And your smile. I love your pretty smile. It lights up a room, darlin’. And you lit up the whole damn bar tonight,” he drawls, his warm breath fanning over your open mouth, gawking at this handsome gentleman. 

   He’s fucking perfect. 

   He lifts his arm and spins you around in a complete circle, his large hand finding your hip again and pulling you back into his broad chest. And there you are, completely breathless again.

   “So, Cowboy. What made you want to come ask me to dance?” you ask, curiosity circling in your wide eyes.

   “Saw you from across the room, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he answers honestly with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

   “Me?” you ask, taken aback. 

   “Yes, you,” he chuckles as he guides you across the polished dance floor.

   “There’s a hundred other girls in here who’ve had their eyes on you all night,” you scoff in a playful way.

   “Oh? Is that so?” An eyebrow lifts in piqued interest, but his eyes still don’t leave yours. They stay glued to you.

   “Mhm,” you hum in confirmation.

   “That means you’ve been watchin’ me too, ain’t that right?” he smirks devilishly, his brown eyes darkening just slightly.

   “No I—no. That’s not…” you stutter, at a loss for words. You were watching him. Ever since you saw him across the room; that damn smile that has your head spinning.

   “S’alright, sweetheart. Wasn’t tryin’ to get you all flustered now,” he chuckles, obviously trying to get you flustered. He doesn’t have to try hard because you’re already overly flustered.

   “I’m not flustered,” you scoff, your cheeks burning hotter with every second his chocolate eyes are on you.

   “No? Well, you’re pretty cute when you’re blushin’, darlin’. Maybe I want you flustered,” he grins, a beautiful smile curling against his plush lips.

   “Careful, Cowboy. You might be the one blushing next,” you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully in response.

   “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart,” he challenges, his eyes growing into a soft syrupy color you want to drown in.

   “Maybe I will, brown eyes,” you say with the flash of a smile.

   “Brown eyes, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” His pretty eyes are genuine when he says it, like it’s the best thing you’ve said this whole dance. And the pink that marinates around his dark scruff tells you enough. He does like it.

   You smirk in knowing and wink playfully his way, creating a deeper blush on his tanned skin. It makes your heart skip a beat. “Good, now you’re the one blushing.”

   He shakes his tousled curls and sighs, his eyes alight with an enamored glow. “Christ, you’re adorable.”

   “If you say so, Cowboy,” you say, letting him continue the dance even though there’s a new song booming from the overhead speakers.

   He wraps his large hand tighter against your waist, and you let his other gently glide up and down the back of your hand. A caress that’s laced with care.

   “I do say so, sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly. “But you wanna know the real reason why I asked you to dance?”

   You keep your eyes trained on the glow of his and squint carefully. “Tell me.”

   He takes a deep breath and smiles shyly. “The reason I asked you is ‘cause I thought you were the prettiest girl in the room.”

   Your mouth gawks open in shock. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room? Wow. “Me? Are you sure you picked the right girl?” 

   “Yes, you,” he nods, his thumb stroking against your soft skin. An affirmation of what? Care, admiration, love?

   “You think I’m… pretty?” you ask hesitantly, your voice quiet and meek. He can’t think you’re the prettiest girl. There’s no way.

   “Mhm. Gorgeous. And your eyes. Absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. They make the lights in here look dim with how bright yours shine.”

   You stare in amazement at him, eyes as wide as an owl’s gawking at the man with pretty brown eyes who swept you off your feet. You’re falling into places you’ve never been, and you’re quite scared of how many feelings are bubbling up inside you already. But at this moment, you don’t care. All you can do is stare at him affectionately as he spins you around the room.

   He’s perfect. 

   “So, what does a pretty girl like you do for work, sweetheart?” he asks, molton brown eyes glazing into yours, making you audibly gasp how pretty they are.

   “I’m a vet assistant.”

   “Vet assistant, huh? You ever work on cattle, by chance?” His wide brown eyes are full of hope, and a smile tugs at his lips. 

   “Unfortunately no. Just dogs and cats mostly. Why? You got some cattle, Cowboy?” Your eyebrow arches, and a mischievous smirk curls over your mouth.

   He chuckles and nods his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. I own a ranch,” he says proudly, standing a little taller, making your face hurt from smiling so damn much at him. 

   “So you are a Cowboy. I knew it,” you giggle. “What kind of animals do you have?”

   “Tons,” he says, the neon lights glowing over his tousled curls. “Horses, cows, bulls, chickens, sheep, dogs, and the list goes on.”

   “My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now. 

   “Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms. 

   “Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage. 

   He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

   Your eyes soften into liquid and your head is spinning as you stare at this beautiful man. You’re already falling head over heels, and you think he is too. 

   “You ever ride a horse before?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s assessing you.

   You shake your head in response. “I mean, when I was little I rode on a pony. But a horse? No. Can’t say that I have.” 

   “You wanna learn? Got a stallion back at home that has your name on the saddle.” His smile is breathtaking, just like his honey-colored eyes. Your heart gallops in your chest like hooves pounding on the ground. He wants to teach you how to ride?

   “You really plan on teaching me?” Your eyebrows pinch together, hesitation stuck on your tongue. 

   He nods, a fleeting smile meeting his beautiful eyes. “Consider it our first date, darlin’. Gonna turn you into a little cowgirl.”

   “Oh, a cowgirl, huh? Is that what I’m going to be?” you giggle flirtatiously, and he picks right back up on it as he winks at you.

   “S’right. My cowgirl.”

   My cowgirl. 

   Your heart gets stuck in your throat, words lodged deep inside. So you do what you can do. Smile and trace your fingertips across his broad shoulder, letting the soft flannel graze against your smooth skin. 

   As the song slows to a halt, you find the opportunity to wrap both of your arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his flannel. His arms circle your hips, and one hand gently runs up and down your lower back, sending electricity zapping through your nerve endings. 

   You smell him now. His woodsy cologne, the hint of sweet beer on the tip of his tongue, faint scents of smoke on his collar, the scent of leather in the air. He smells like your favorite scent all mixed together, combined into the perfect formula to get you drunk off him. And you’d gladly get drunk off him. 

   “Lady May” by Tyler Childers plays through the speakers; the slow song sending the mood of the bar into  a romantic, all consuming type of way. Love’s permeating through the air, and you can feel it everywhere. It tingles in your toes, brushes like a breeze through your hair, spirals down the back of your spine, floods your heart with warmth you’ve never felt before, makes your eyes sparkle like starlight through the bright lights, landing right in the palm of Joel.

   Put your toes down in the water. And a smile across your face. And tell me that you love me. Lovely Lady May.

   He pulls you closer, where your chin is tucked against the crook of his neck, his woodsy cologne making you feel a bit dizzy. 

   Now I ain’t the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held. But, darling, I could love you well.

   Lovely lady May.

   His lips brush over the crown of your head, his fingertips lighting your nerve endings on complete fire, sparks igniting in his caramel eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s already in love with you. And maybe you’ve already fallen in love with him, too. 

   As the music slows, he dips you low, not daring to let your back touch the scuffed-up wood. When he pulls you back up, he brings you flush to his broad chest, and his scent is everywhere. 

   His brown eyes sparkle like glitter, shooting stars that only you can make a wish on in the clear night sky. And his smile. My God, you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him before.

   He gently brushes a loose curl behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingertips down your jawline, ending right under your chin where he stills. The room melts away, the noisy crowd disappearing as the song completely takes a hold of you. 

   But I’m baptized in your name. Lovely Lady May. 

   His thumb slowly traces your bottom lip, leaving invisible marks that’ll stick like permanent ink, branding you as his own. The way he’s staring at you all soft and deeply makes you melt into him even more.

   One more trace, one more shy smile, and he’s asking. “Darlin’?”

   “Yes?” you ask breathlessly.

   “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his Southern drawl sounding lovestruck and angelic. “And thank you for allowin’ me to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. But there’s jus’ one more thing I’d like to do.” His mouth drops a little lower, and your breath hitches.

   “And what’s that?” you ask, lilting at his soft smile.

   “I’d really like to kiss you…” he breathes, his deep timbre shaky as his brown eyes melt into you.

   You lean up on your tiptoes, blowing your breath over his open lips. “Then kiss me, Cowboy…” you whisper out.

   He cups your face the next second and leans in, crashing his lips down on yours without any hesitation. And he draws you in like a moth to a flame. 

   His lips are soft like velvet, and he tastes like your new favorite flavor. Blue moon, sweet and savory with a hint of smoke and mint marinating on his tongue. 

   And then your lips become his as you fall like rain into his kiss.

   Mint. Blue Moon. Smoke. Velvet. Cedar Wood. Leather.

   He’s all you know now. 

   You stay like that for minutes, connected like webs to each other in the middle of the dance floor as couples swirl in a colorful blur around you. When the two of you finally disconnect from each other’s lips, a big smile curls against his mouth and his pretty brown eyes look like they’re laced with love the longer he looks at you.

   He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and leans in close, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. “You taste like mine, darlin’.”

   And that’s when you fall head over heels for the Cowboy that snatched your heart and made you his own.

   He pulls you in for another dance, and you let him lead you through another song which turns into another and another and another. You lose count. All you know is that you’d dance all night with him if you could. 

   After over an hour of twirling around the dance floor with him, he buys you a drink and leads you over to two barstools. You end up with your legs sprawled over his lap, his fingertips tracing lines over your thighs, his lips brushing over your cheek while he places his cowboy hat on top of your head, claiming you as his own. 

   You end up meeting Joel’s brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. And you spend all night laughing and flirting with Joel while you bond over music and shared interests. Turns out you have a lot in common. 

   It’s the way his smile stops your heart and his brown eyes that send your head spinning. It’s the way he calls you his girl and the way he can’t keep his hands off you for even a second. You’ve never been this wrapped up in a guy before, but you’ve never met a handsome gentleman like Joel. A cowboy that won your heart over the second he looked at you. 

   He ends the night by driving you home, walking you up to your door, pulling you against his broad chest as his thumb traces lightly against your skin affectionately. You don’t want to say goodnight.

   “So, pretty girl. How ’bout I pick you up at 4:00 o’clock tomorrow? Can give you your first ridin’ lesson, maybe watch the sunset from the back of my truck. Can tell you how beautiful you look under the stars,” he drawls, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight. 

   He has you reeled in, pulling you in like he just lassoed his way into your heart. 

   “Quite the romantic type. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, lacing your fingers through his tousled curls. 

   “That I am,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. “So, what do ya say, Cowgirl? You gonna let me take you on that date?”

   “Pick me up at 4:00, and I’m all yours.”

   “All mine?” he smiles, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

   “All yours,” you confirm.

   He pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, letting it linger as the stars twinkle above your porch. You’re never going to get tired of his kisses, his soft Southern drawl, his big brown eyes. You’re only going to grow more in love with him every day. And you’ll let it grow like a wildfire that consumes you whole. 

   This was only the beginning. The beginning of a perfect summer love that would never fade away. 

Tags for those that were interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @lotusbxtch @almostfoxglove @burntheedges

@jasminedragoon @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape

@milla-frenchy @pedrospatch @thundermartini @lanaispunk @sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused

@stylesispunk @there1snothingleft4u @littlevenicebitch69 @tuquoquebrute @ajw-23

[carnelianly]

more fwb fuck buddy art.. bc i have brainrot…

he fucks you so, so good, his hips rocking into you, as he tells you all the things he normally isn’t allowed to say. sure, he can call you pretty and beautiful and gorgeous and godlike, you don’t mind that, but once he starts getting a little too into it, a little too intimate, you’d normally rein in his expectations.

“you’re so fucking pretty, here, give me your hand, can you feel my cock moving inside you if i put your hand on your tummy? it’s so hot right? god you’re the only girl for me, you’re my only girl, my only one. i can’t even look at other girls anymore, no one is you. you’re so sexy. god, i keep running back to you in hopes you’ll tell me you want me…”

he’s rambling at this point, talking about things he absolutely shouldn’t be saying, but he’s not lying. your pussy practically haunts him. he doesn’t wanna fuck anyone else, he doesn’t wanna be intimate with someone else. he wants to come home to you.

your eyes haunt him, knowing they normally look at him with caution and calculation, but sometimes, like when he’s inside of you, you give him this pretty little doe eyed look, and he has to try so fucking hard not to cum on the spot. you’re the god he worships. his religion. you’re the girl he dreams about and you’re the lips he wishes he could kiss for hours upon hours.

his lips meet your shoulder as he keeps thrusting, keeps going, chasing his high. god, you look wrecked underneath him. are you getting cock drunk? you look kinda stupid underneath him, he won’t lie. a little drool on your chin just makes you look cute.

he rubs your clit and whispers words in your ear that make you dizzy, fuzzy, a little bit lost in your head as your body experiences complete euphoria— your orgasm hits you like a train and art watches as all sensibility drains from your mind and leak out of your cunt. cute.

art has never really been super dominant over you, not his style, but he takes the lead giving aftercare after he fucks you this good. he pulls you close to his chest as he shifts to lay on his back, and he definitely doesn’t sneak his hand between your thighs to play with your sensitive little clit.. nooo..

but it does keep you in that foggy, dizzy headspace a little longer, all whiny and sensitive, and he gets to keep kissing you all over your gorgeous face and keep telling you how pretty you are.

yeah, sure, you’ll be mad in a little bit once your head clears up and you realize he’s been saying things that you’ve told him not to say. you don’t love that he’s a romantic at heart and must say whatever lovey dovey thing is on his mind. but at this point, it’s almost… too late. he’s already gotten what he wanted, and you’re too exhausted to get up from his comfortable grasp.

oh well. art always gets what he wants, doesn’t he?

[gothgoblinbabe]

hiyaa <333 just wanted to drop a Logan request here.. (pref from the ver of the x-men, 2000?) because it's always like sunshine reader this and grumpy/mean logan that (i luv them btw) but what about cool!reader. what about the reader that can and will not put the cocky shit he is on his place but keep him there??? what about the reader that tames him down, the reader that casually grabs the back of his shirt to keep him from launching himself at Scott with a deadpan face, the one that lets him bite??? the one that will literally outmatch his agressive and violent energy????? the one that grabs his wrist when his claws go out and quirks an eyebrow at him like 'really?'???? like pls we do seriously need a bit of a level-head/intermediator!reader with Logan (can be smut if u feel like it?) 🙏🙇 fem if possible <33

IM KICKING MY FEET SO HARD RN OMG, I also love grumpy Logan x sunshine reader but being w someone that matches his energy? Oh my god, that’s my shit

NSFW/18+ // This isn’t like a full oneshot ig but if you do want that with plot and stuff lmk!)

- Within the first few months of meeting each other, everyone would definitely tease Logan (and you) about how you’re like the female version of him. You don’t put up with anyone’s shit, including his. He learned that the hard way, nearly being knocked on his ass when you yanked the back of his jacket to prevent him from ripping Scott to shreds because of some stupid comment. That wasn’t a one time occurrence, either. You were the only one bold enough to actually try to put him in his place when the claws came out, going as far as to use both hands to hold his wrist in place while you glared up at him.

“Chill the fuck out, would you?”

And the first time you had the balls to actually do that, everyone else stood back in mild fear, anticipating some kind of fight between the two of you. Instead, he rolled his eyes and retracted his claws. It was an unusual influence you had over him, something about you that made him feel hypnotized.

- He’ll never admit it to another soul, but he definitely likes that you’re dominant over him at times when you have to cool him down. Grabbing his arm, pushing him back - lightly tugging at his hair if you really couldn’t get his attention. He likes when you put him in his place, get a little rough with him or talk in an angry tone.

- And because I’m a sucker for friends to lovers, I think he’d be so head over heels for you because of that. He’d try his best to be stone faced when you were stern with him, but he’d be gnawing on his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood.

- Same thing with training: If you actually manage to wrestle him down to the mat, he knows he can push you off if he really wants to, but he never does - he gets way too engrossed in staring up at you while you straddle his lap and hold his arms down.

- Though Logan wasn’t always levelheaded, he could return the favor of holding you back when you got too aggressive, wrapping his arms around the middle of your waist and pulling you back - sometimes even having to lift you off the ground and sling you over his shoulder. Truthfully, he’d let you tear someone apart if it were up to him - the assholes usually deserve it - but he knew it would be frowned upon to not stop you.

- I think when you somehow do admit your feelings - maybe you get pissed when he puts himself in danger and just tell him you love him or he does the same when he starts to become a little too jealous of anyone else hanging around near you - he’d always have his hands on you in some way. Maybe the small of your back, your hands, your wrist - anything. And the jealousy thing? Oh, forget it, he won’t even let another guy stand too close to you. He’s not toxic (maybe if you wanted him to be🫣) but very protective, he’ll let another guy talk to you if he’s gotta but his hand is in your back pocket the entire time while he stares the dude down.

- Angry sex is a regular occurrence. Are you really mad at each other? Not even close, but it doesn’t take much more than a few choice words exchanged in the hall for Logan to be dragging you into the nearest room with a lock, holding you up against the wall and drilling into you till he has to hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. There were definitely a handful of times you’d almost been caught, trying to babble out an excuse about being busy to whoever was behind the door while your leg was hiked over Logan’s shoulder, messily eating you out with your skirt bunched up at your waist.

- Overall I think you’d make a good pair, keeping each other in balance when one of you gets a little feral (though, let’s be honest, it’s definitely usually you having to hold him back).

Like I said if you want more of that concept or like something w plot pls lmk!! Absolutely love the idea 🫶🏻

[foxtrot91]

shovel talk

“So,” Maddie says, eyes squinting as she looks Tommy over, wine glass cradled in one hand while the other rests on her hip. 

They’re in the hallway of Bobby and Athena’s new place, and Tommy doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s catching him in the bathroom hallway just as Tommy’s about to return to the party. Remembering another conversation at another party, he suddenly wishes he was holding a slice of cake; though he gets the feeling Maddie wouldn’t be easily deflected with it, Hen certainly wasn’t. 

“Are you looking for the bathroom?” He asks instead, tossing a glance behind him. “It’s right over there, second on the left.” 

He gives her his best grin; just because he knows this conversation is inevitable doesn’t mean he has to make it easy on her. Her eyebrows raise and Tommy thinks someone so small shouldn’t give him the same feeling as being dressed down by his sergeant once did. He hopes for Chim’s sake that he doesn’t find himself in the doghouse too often. 

“So,” she says again, ignoring his directions to the bathroom. “I was just thinking that we haven’t really had a chance to properly meet.”

“Oh,” Tommy says, still suspicious about where this conversation is going. “I guess we haven’t.”

It’s true, it’s only been a couple months since he and Evan got together and between their differing schedules and the drama going on behind the scenes at the 118, there hadn’t been much time for larger get togethers. For the most part, Tommy and Evan have either spent their time just the two of them or hanging out with Eddie in an effort to keep his mind off of Christopher’s departure. Which, thank god that has since been resolved, for awhile there Eddie had been a bit of a basket case. There had been the wedding, of course, but even a normal wedding doesn’t leave time for the bride and groom to spend much time with individual guests, and there’s had been anything but normal. 

“You know, Buck was really nervous when he told me about you,” she says, eyes glittering as she looks him over before taking a sip of her wine. 

“Coming out to someone you care about will do that to a person,” Tommy says simply, eyebrow raised. 

“Of course,” she says with a soft chuckle before continuing, “it made me realize that he’s never told me about any of his other relationships before.” 

“Oh?”

“I mean, I knew they existed and I knew their names, but he never once talked about them, I barely even knew a thing about Ali. Even Taylor, she was his longest relationship and I barely heard a word about her. Then there’s Natalia who was barely a blip.” She pauses here and takes another sip from her wine before shifting her gaze back to Tommy. “Actually, there was one person I heard a lot about, even if I never got the chance to meet her.” 

“Abby,” Tommy says, figuring with what he knows of Evan’s relationship history that she’s a safe bet. 

“Mmhm,” she hums, nodding in agreement. “But since that first day he told me about you, you’re all he talks about now.” 

Tommy feels warmth bloom in his chest at that admission, the thought of Evan feeling happy and secure enough in their - admittedly young - relationship to talk about it with others leaves him feeling pleased. 

“It kind of reminds me of how he was with Abby, actually,” she continues, “before he’d accepted that she was gone I got to hear all about her, almost felt like I knew her.” There’s a bit of a wistful edge to her voice, though Tommy can tell it’s less about Abby and more about Evan's happiness. “He hasn’t been that way with anyone since, at not least until now. So I guess you could say that as his big sister I thought I'd better check to make sure that he’s not going to wake up one day and find you’ve suddenly discovered a burning desire to – I don’t know, Amelia Earhart your way around the world and leave him behind.” 

Her voice grows firmer on that last bit as she pins Tommy with her gaze, eyebrow raised. Despite the teasing edge still present in her voice, Tommy can tell she’s serious, and truthfully, he can’t say he blames her. Eddie once told him over a shared six-pack that Evan has abandonment issues the size of the moon, and everything he’s learned about his past relationships - both romantic and familial - supports that. If Evan has avoided talking about past girlfriends, Tommy wonders if it had anything to do with a fear that they’d leave him behind too. He wonders what that says about the fact that he apparently talks about Tommy with those closest to him.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Amelia Earhart's disappearance is a pretty strong deterrent for that. Also— can’t do Muay Thai in the sky,” he says, unable to resist responding with his own personal brand of humour. Maddie doesn’t respond during the pause he takes to gather his thoughts, her face giving nothing away. “But... the truth is, that I can’t tell you the future, I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, let alone six months from now.” He pauses, suddenly wishing he had his own glass of wine to occupy his hands as he contemplates his next words. “What I can tell you is that I didn’t step into this lightly, and that I care about him a lot.” He takes a moment to let the truth of that sink in before adding, “and for what it’s worth, if you talked to any of my friends, I’m pretty sure they’d tell you the same thing, which is that I talk about Evan so much that they’re probably sick of hearing about him now.” It's true, Sal barely manages to repress the eyeroll whenever Evan's name comes up, and Angela and Jenkins have started a drinking game during Trivia Night based on how often Tommy says his name. It's made them terrible at trivia. 

The beat of silence that passes between he and Maddie isn't exactly uncomfortable, but he does find himself holding his breath a little wondering if he passed. He has the idle thought that she’d be good at poker with how little she’s giving away with her facial expression. But then, a smile stretches over her face, and Tommy finds himself sighing in relief. This was different than his talk with Hen and Karen that had obviously been more teasing in nature. While Maddie may have done a good job in keeping her tone overall light, Tommy’s under no delusions that she wasn’t serious in sizing Tommy up to determine if he was fit to date her brother.

“Good,” she says simply, and then tilts her head slightly towards the kitchen. “I need a top-up, and you seem like you could use a glass, have a drink with me?”

“Absolutely,” Tommy agrees, his own grin stretching across his face.

He follows Maddie into the kitchen where she grabs a second glass for him before pulling out the wine she and Chim brought – a merlot – and pouring him a glass before topping off her own.

“So, you’re a pilot,” she says, a statement, not a question.

“I am.”

“Could be handy having a pilot in the family,” she comments, eyes twinkling, “Chim said you flew Eddie to Vegas.”

It's said nonchalantly, with a hint of expectation but before he can respond, Evan’s rounding the corner, clearly having heard at least part of their conversation. “Oh no,” he groans, “you do not get to commandeer my pilot boyfriend so that you and Chim can have some private date weekend in Vegas.”

“I said no such thing,” Maddie claims, hands raised, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“But you thought it,” Evan says accusingly.

Tommy watches them, barely suppressing his own laughter as he grabs a potato-chip from a nearby bowl to munch on. He lets them go back and forth, trading verbal jabs in the way all siblings do before he takes his moment to jump in.

“I’d be happy to fly your sister to Vegas,” Tommy says, grinning at Evan’s indignant look and Maddie’s triumphant one.

“Thank you,” she says, voice overly sweet as she pats Tommy on the hand before picking up her glass. She starts towards the door, presumably to rejoin the others, but he doesn’t miss it when she leans in and whispers to Evan, “he’s a keeper,” before smacking a kiss to his cheek as she heads out the door. Evan’s face softens at Maddie’s approval, and Tommy’s does too.

Evan joins him at the table, cheeks pink as he swipes Tommy’s glass to steal a sip.

“You disappeared on me,” he says, looking up at Tommy. “How bad was it? She give you the third degree?”

“It wasn’t bad at all,” Tommy says honestly, “I like that you have people who care.”

“Hm,” is all he says, though Tommy can tell he’s at least a little pleased by it too. “Still, we need to have a talk about how you’re supposed to take my side in arguments with my sister,” he adds, semi-serious.

Laughing, Tommy stands from his seat and comes around the table, offering Evan his hand before pulling him back towards the door. “Evan, the only useful relationship advice my dad ever gave me was to ‘get in good with the family.’” He adds air-quotes and deepens his voice for effect. “Of course, he thought my relationships would look a lot different, but the advice is still solid,” he says, before adding, “besides, I like your sister, and flying Maddie and Chim to Vegas for a weekend would also mean flying you and I there.”

Evan perks up at that, “yeah?”

“Separate hotel rooms, of course,” Tommy adds, letting his smile take on a suggestive edge as they open the door to the balcony.

“Separate hotels,” Evan says, his own lascivious smile spreading across his face.

Whatever their faces are doing as they join the others must make it obvious what they’re both thinking about because the next thing he hears is Chim saying; “Mm, I don’t like that look, too reminiscent of Buck 1.0. Does anyone have a spray bottle? Gotta squirt him like an overgrown tomcat before he gets outta control.”

Tommy lets the subsequent laughter at Evan’s indignant squawk envelop him, somewhere in the background he hears Christopher question what Buck 1.0 means and Eddie insisting he doesn’t want to know. Tommy finds he’s enjoying himself, even if the laughter is at their expense. He wasn’t lying to Evan when he’d told him before that he’d been jealous of the family the 118 had become but for once, Tommy isn’t jealous. He doesn’t need to be, because this time he’s a part of it.

Read on ao3

[lokisfirecracker]

toxic, older man!price x reader

summary; you catch price flirting with someone else when you’re out on a date together, you argue but price manages to plant seeds in your head that you were overreacting. this is you coming back to him, because john is always right, and he would never hurt you, right?

warnings- toxic, abusive relationship, smut, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, boot humping

—————

it had only been 2 days since your argument with john. you’d thought that he was in the wrong, when you caught him chatting up a pretty blonde whilst he waited for you to be done in the bathroom at the local pub.

you’d thought he was in the wrong when he’d denied their conversation being flirty, saying that he could never want someone that wasn’t you, even though his hand had been awfully close to her ass.

you’d started being confused about who was in the wrong when he’d complained about you always picking holes in every little thing he did, that he felt like he was being suffocated by you, before storming out, leaving you to find your own way home.

now, 2 days later, you knew that he was right, you had been more clingy than usual lately, and you had been tending to tell him off when really, the things he’d been doing weren’t that bad. you shouldn’t have complained about him looking down the waitress’ top last week when you were on another date, he couldn’t help that his eyes were at the same level as her tits! it’s not his fault that his chair was the perfect height.

you were missing him desperately, wishing that you’d just kept you mouth shut so you could be with him right now. you’d been on the fence about calling him, not sure if he’d even want you anymore after your spout. so instead, you decided that the best course of action, was to get absolutely plastered and pretend nothing happened.

admittedly, it wasn’t the best plan you could’ve come up with, and you were slightly regretting it now that you’d found yourself stood on john’s doorstep, in the sluttiest outfit you had, hand hovering by the door because you were too scared to knock.

luckily for you, he opened the door, unlit cigar in one hand. your eyes welled up immediately at the sight of him, feeling overwhelmed with relief from how much you’d missed him.

he sighed heavily, not looking at all surprised to see you and leaned up against the door frame, “you come to apologise for your behaviour?”

you quickly looked down, tears streaming down your face and cooling your warmed cheeks. now that you were here, you were unsure what to say. how could you ever make it up to him, what could you do to repay him for being so mean and inconsiderate to your poor boyfriend.

“you gonna answer me? or did y’come just here to yell and embarrass me again?”

his words only made you cry harder, wishing you could go back to before and have your john back. you swear that you’ll never complain about him again if he forgives you, you’d do anything he asked.

“no i-,” your own sobs cut you off, and you scrambled to find the right words, eyes lifting to meet his. “i’m so sorry, i was so cruel, i didn’t mean to.”

“so you just meant to upset me then, just didn’t mean to do it so publicly?” he sneered, titling his to the side a little. the floor beneath him creaked as he pushed off the frame, stepping closer to you.

you rushed to shake your head, doing it so quickly that your head swarmed, stumbling a little.

“don’t be so pathetic, it doesn’t suit you baby,”

you whimpered quietly, “i didn’t want to hurt you at all, i promise. please, i need you, please don’t leave me. i promise i’ll be good. just tell me what to do and i’ll do it, please.”

your breathing was laboured, and your heart felt like it was going to pump out of your chest. you waited whilst he considered, hoping that whatever he chose, that it would be enough for him to consider forgiveness.

“on your knees,” he commanded, finally lighting the cigar and taking a pull.

you dropped down, feeling the twang in your knees that you knew meant they’d be black and blue later. you looked up at him, waiting patiently for his next order as tears continued to fall, “hump my boot.”

you moved to do as he’d asked, not wanting to be seen hesitating and he change his mind. you carefully lifted yourself up, and placed your weight down onto his leather boot. your tears finally began to dry up as you loosely wrapped your arms around his strong leg.

going slowly at first, you rubbed your cunt along his shoe, trying to avoid the laces. you tried your best to put on a show for him, wanting to make him pleased at your actions, but the feeling of the leather grinding against your clit was disturbingly good.

just as you were getting lost in twisted pleasure, you heard a long whistle from down the street behind you. your head whipped around, stunting your movements on his shoe. a couple of men had gathered around to watch, and you hadn’t even realised. had they been there the whole time? did you know them? it was too dark to be able to recognise them, but the porch light above john made you very visible to them. you only hoped they couldn’t see the way your swollen cunt was glistening against the leather.

you felt a rough tug to your hair, and squealed as he said, “did i fucking tell you to stop?” you shook your head again, knowing that any words you said would only anger him further at this point, and john didn’t tolerate prolonged disobedience.

resuming your movements, you tried not to think about the strangers, and focused only john and your quickly approaching orgasm.

you’d never felt so humiliated in your life, but you knew you deserved this. after all, this is how he must of felt outside that pub bathroom, with all those people around, watching. really, if you thought about it, you were quite lucky to only have a couple people watching you. john had been very generous with his punishment, and you’d happily take it like a good girl if it made him happy.

legs shaking, you moaned into his thigh, calling out his name like a chant. pleasure flowed through you as you released your cum onto his now shining boot. you collapsed against him, feeling exhausted and embarrassed. he gently pulled you up and into his arms, pressing his hard bulge into you as you tried to recover.

before you could realise what he was doing, you felt him flip up the back of your skirt, followed by a sharp burn against your ass check. you gasped, trying to move away from the source of pain. he shushed you as you began to cry again, rubbing your back and discarding the rest of the now put out cigar onto the floor.

“did so well for me, sweetheart. you’re forgiven, been such a good girl, haven’t you? how could i ever stay mad at that pretty face of yours, hm?”

he picked you up and walked around back into his house, slamming the door shut with his foot behind him.

your body continued to tremble as he placed you down onto his bed, lovingly tucking your hair behind your ears. he moved back to undo your laces and take off your shoes, focus moving back over to your face every once in a while. next, he unzipped the side of your skirt, and pulled your top off, leaving you in only your soaked underwear.

he admired the view, smiley softly when your eyes met and crawled up the bed to lay beside you. you always craved these moments with him, where you knew he loved you, where you knew that you were the one he wanted right now. you’d go to much further lengths than you had tonight on the porch to make him happy, if it meant that this is what you got in return. nothing felt this good.

he pulled you closer, his hold on your body tight, almost uncomfortably so, before his face turned serious, “you ever embarrass me again, and i’ll fucking kill ya, you hear me?”

you sniffled, eyes widening a little but refusing to squirm from his arms, “i won’t ever, i promise john,”

“good, that’s good,”

and just like that, he was his happy self again, like you’d never argued, like he hadn’t just threatened to take you life, like you didn’t know that he meant it. everything was good again, just don’t you dare say a word when the next week, you catch him sending pictures of his dick to his “doctor”.

—————

any feedback in the comments is massively appreciated <3

[sweeterelease]

regulus needs someone to kiss. pandora got him into this stupid muggle romance novel and while he can admit it's good writing, all the kissing going on inevitable makes him remember his past experiences, experience. he can't get his brain to stop comparing every affectionate scene with the three-way incident he had with barty and evan in third year. it wasn't even a kiss for merlin's sake, just awkward lips and cheeks pressing against each other, honestly, what were they thinking?

anyway, now he can't help the memory coming back whenever the male lead grabs his partner's face in his hands, it's actually a problem. so he'll listen to dorcas' just kiss someone else, that way those bastards won't be your only reference. dorcas is always right, maybe it could work. the issue now is where in earth does he get someone to kiss him?

he'll figure it out tomorrow. now, dinner is ready and he'll do pretty much anything to get his mind off the book’s happenings for a bit. regulus came in later than usual, the great hall is filled and it's kind of hard to walk through the sea of people, so he bumps into someone's back. shit, a gryffindo— oh hi reg, are you looking for sirius?

regulus stares into james potters' eyes, the boyish grin, he ponders. do the cons outdo the pros in this situation? would the consequences be worth it? hmm. james calls his name a second time and waits patiently, after a couple of seconds without response his eyes wander around nervously.

would you like to kiss me? he finds himself asking, in the middle of a crowded room, with his friends waiting for him at his house's table and his older brother looking at him curiously from across the hall.

james blinks once, twice, three and four times. he clears his throat and sorry, don't think i caught that right? it sounds out of breath, regulus can't tell if it's a good or bad sign.

regulus repeats himself, not sure what's so difficult about a yes or no answer. he continues with i need, um— experience, regulus feels a growing blush at that, definitely not a good sign.

experience. james calls, it's then when regulus catches the deep crimson around the older's cheeks, nose, neck? merlin, it's everywhere. is it really that embarrassing to be asked for a kiss by regulus? well then.

right. i apologize for asking that was— hands wrap around regulus' neck to pull him up. he can't do much but melt into james' embrace and take his kiss.

regulus blinks, he expected james to kiss like he does pretty much anything else, big, loud, unapologetic, and without holding back. but this kiss is tender, a tentative brush of the lips, almost fragile, and he holds regulus like he's made out of glass, like he's sad it has to end. frankly, it's sweet.

james pulls back and stares into regulus eyes, searching. he's shaking, regulus notices, and it takes until his feet meet the ground again to recover from whatever spell this man has put him through, actually— he's not sure it's over quite yet.

was that 'experience' enough? james rasps, brown eyes now glued to regulus' lips. he snakes both hands up the taller's back to mirror the ones still holding his jaw, relishing in the shivers he feels erupting. regulus stares into james potters' eyes again, the slightly bruised lips, he ponders.

no.

[squiddy-god]

your ratio fics have been engraved into my mind...

may i request for dr. ratio and a cheeky professor! male reader? kind of friendly rivals to lovers...?

Hehehehehe i adore this request because i literally love this dynamic with ratio, like just his rivalry to lovers with a fellow professor is *chef kiss* i decided to make the reader an art professor because i feel like that is the dynamic i like the most with ratio. ive been getting alot of male reader request and i absolutly love it. ♥︎request open♥︎ Cw : fluffy, no tw, male!reader, art professor! Reader, “rivals” to lovers, 

The halls of the intelligentsia guild are writhe with the hustle and bustle of students, characteristic uniforms adorning each of them as they carry books and make small conversation before hurrying to a lecture. It was in one such hall that the class of veritas ratio took place, the many subjects that he resides over had landed him in the aptly nicknamed “miscellaneous” hallway as having him move to a different class for every lecture would be “idiotic” and “most tiresome a pursuit that could be avoided by simply providing a class in the miscellaneous hall-” as he put it.

What he did not count on was his new found “rivalry” with the art teacher across the hall. Your first meeting was brought on by several students complaining rather loudly in the halls as ratio walked to his class after his lunch, the subject of their ire none other than you- or rather their failing grade in what they described as “the easiest class to pass” and how they couldn't believe that they were failing your class. During that time he simply waved it off as something that doesn't concern him, after all he had never met you. The second time he heard about you before meeting you was also on a rather sour note, several students beginning to slack off in his class in favor of drawing and working on their respective projects for your class. This incident lead both to their scolding and the scathing email that he sends you, speaking of how clearly your habits as a teacher must me idiodic if your students feel the need to slack off. 

He receives back an email by the end of the day, full of sarcasm and the cheeky quip about how “perhaps someone should check over his prior research as, clearly, he is someone who makes uninformed decision on faulty circumstantial data before seeing it for yourself” and that has him fuming in his empty class. The next day however he is met after classes by the same group who Promptly apologize. 

“Uhm… Dr. Ratio? We'd like to apologize- we shouldn't have slacked off in your class” 

“Yeah Dr. (L/n) made us complete the assignment during his class so we submitted those too-”

“And he wanted us to give you this” one of them hands him a printed flier and he feels his face contort in shock at the apology. Taking the flier into his hands he dismisses the students with a warning to not make the same foolish mistakes twice, the flier says that there is going to be a student art exhibition in a few days.

“Hmmm, how quaint…” he mutters to himself but still takes mental note of the date and time. 

It is all of these things that lead him to his first official meeting with you, still in his characteristic plaster mask he makes his way down the familiar halls where he finds the art exhibition set up in one of the librarys, paintings, sculptures, digital art displayed on screens, and in the middle of the exhibition greeting the guests and pointing out remarkable students is you. You stand in a suit, clothing colorful and an artwork in itself, hands clasped in front of you and a polite smile on your features. The person you currently talk to walks off to enjoy the art and you seem to recognize the good Dr immediately. “Ah! Dr ratio I see you have decided to grace our little exhibition?” you smile as you walk up to him, taking in the plaster head that concealed any expression. “I see the rumors are true, tell me did you make this delightful mask yourself?” your eyes are analytical as you seem to scrutinize every detail of his plaster face, the curve of his roman nose, the gentle curvature of his eyes, the line of his sharp jaw, all of it falls under your watchful gaze and for once ratio feels himself grow slightly nervous. 

This is his first official meeting with you, and he realizes that you are not in fact the idiot or fool he initially assumed, but rather a man with a deep passion for art who much like him doesn't tolerate fools who willingly live in ignorance, and thus your “rivalry” with the good doctor is born. Both artistically and academically he competes with you, as much in the same way that patience breeds success, passion begets passion. 

His hand holds two bags as he walks across the empty call to your class, the afternoon sun that filters through tall windows gives his skin a warm glow as he enters your class finding you at your desk grading with nary a lunch break in sight. Ratio tsks shaking his head, he's no longer dawning his plaster mask, instead letting you see his vague annoyance as he sets one of the bags in front of you, the smell of your favorite food wafting up to your nose. “Oh my savior- to what do I owe the pleasure of being graced by the presence of the esteemed dr. ratio” he rolls his eyes as pulls up a chair. “I do not wish to see you work yourself into the ground” it was a half true statement, truly he didn't want to see you burn out, however what he's concealing is that deep in his chest is a nagging feeling to simply spend time with you, bask in your presence and soak in your company. Your voice seems to sooth the annoyance that seems constantly brewing inside him, smoothing over the creese in his brow as you poke and prod at him with your words, it was an odd feeling to be so indebted to such a fool. He ultimately surmised that while you were a fool you were also far from an idiot and even further from those moronic individuals that invoke his ire by squandering the opportunity of knowledge and basking in ignorance. 

You wipe a pretend tear from your eye as you rifle through the bag. “I didn't know you cared so much doctor” your voice is playful and it causes ratio’s eye to twitch. “Do not be foolish, i simply do not wish to lose the one person in this place that isn't a complete idiot” his voice is so matter of fact that it has your eyes widening at the rare concealed complement. “Oh ratio i didn't know you were in love~” the emphasis on love is followed shortly by a snicker. “So when is the wedding?” If you were to look up at this moment you would be rewarded by the blush that spreads across his skin to the tips of his ears and down his neck to his broad shoulders. For a man who claims to keep his words few and his thoughts deep he speaks often, and yet now he is truly rendered speechless by your cheeky remarks. “Nonesens, are you perhaps blinded to my affection for you?” he tsks again as if the very notion is the definition of ridiculous. “Perhaps my dear professor, you'd care to join me for a date one evening” the for you'd taken up to eat the lunch he had brought you is held precariously between your fingers, one move away from falling, and your mouth is agape in shock as you stare at his burgundy eyes.

 “I…I would be delighted to, veritas.”

[yunwangja]

undercurrents | signal no. 17

masterlist

"i’m alisa. i was kuroo’s partner for his project."

you freeze. this is her. the girl from the date. your heart sinks as you picture them together, imagining all the worst possibilities.

did he leave his phone? why was she the one who picked up the call? is he still there? your mind begins to spiral, creating scenarios you can't control, each more painful than the last.

"oh," you manage to say, struggling to keep your voice steady. your throat feels tight, and your words come out slower than usual. "can i ask for kuroo?"

"uh, actually, kuroo left his phone here with me," she replies, "it’s a good thing you called - i couldn't open his phone on my own because it's password protected. i was thinking how to get it back to him. im at my place right now."

her place. your thoughts race, filling in the blanks with every worst-case scenario.

what does this mean? what the hell is happening? and what happened before this? and how could kuroo possibly accidentally leave his phone with her? the more you think about it, the harder it becomes to breathe.

"i can let his friends know," you force out, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. "they can come get it from you."

alisa agrees without hesitation, without ending the call, you quickly message the others, your fingers trembling slightly as you type.

after alisa says yes to the arrangement, you both settle to the conclusion that she'll call you back when she's arrived at the campus lobby where bo would be meeting her.

you sit in silence after the call ends, staring at your phone, thoughts swirling in your head. the quiet of your room seems louder now, every second stretching longer than it should.

where is kuroo right now? since she picked up the call at her place, was kuroo there before he left his phone? if they did, what did they do? does this mean he was that interested in her?

you try to shake off the uneasy thoughts, but they linger. you tell yourself not to jump to conclusions, but that’s easier said than done. your mind can’t help but imagine things of what might’ve happened after their date. it’s a battle between rationality and your emotions, and right now, the latter is winning.

then, your phone vibrates, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. kuroo's name appear on the caller id, and you assume it's alisa calling back, just as she promised.

“hello?” you answer, your voice a bit shaky but still composed.

“hey, i’m in the campus lobby,” alisa says. “bokuto isn’t here yet, but i’m sure he’ll be along soon.”

“thanks for letting me know.”

the silence stretches for a moment. it feels awkward, hanging between the two of you, and you can’t help but feel like you should say something - anything - to fill the void.

you fidget with your fingers, unsure of what to talk about. after all, you barely know this girl, and under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.

alisa breaks the silence first. “so... are you and kuroo close?”

her question catches you off guard. “uh, yeah, i guess you could say that. we’ve known each other for a while.”

“that’s nice!" alisa replies, her tone friendly. “he’s been super focused on this project. it’s kept him really busy, huh?”

you nod again, though the weight of her words makes your chest feel tight. “yeah, he’s been juggling a lot.”

the conversation stalls again, leaving you with your thoughts. you’ve known kuroo’s been busy, but hearing it from her, someone who's been spending that time with him, feels like a punch in the gut. you hesitate before asking, “where is he, by the way?”

“oh, he didn’t say,” alisa responds casually. “he just told me he had to go and left. i noticed his phone when he was gone already, and i was going to chase after him but it was too late...”

you thought nothing suspicious about her answer, but nothing that assured you that nothing happened between them. the quiet between you both stretches again, heavy and uncomfortable, and you find yourself scrambling for something else - anything - to fill the silence.

“how’s the project been for you guys?” you ask, trying to make small talk.

“oh, it went really well!” she says brightly. “we worked hard, but it all paid off. i think kuroo was really happy with how it turned out.”

you try to smile at her words, but your curiosity is eating away at you. you feel the urge to ask more, even though a part of you is scared of what the answers might be.

your thoughts drift back to earlier, to the idea of them spending time together after their date, and your stomach knots with unease. but you have to know, even if the answer hurts.

desperate to distract yourself from the silence and your spiraling thoughts, you finally blurt out, “so... did you guys have a good time?”

it feels like a casual question, but the weight behind it is unmistakable to you.

alisa chuckles softly, "oh, it was nice. he’s really sweet, isn’t he?"

you force a smile, even though she can’t see it. the words feel like a punch to the gut, as if someone else is confirming how amazing kuroo is. "yeah, he is."

there’s a brief pause, and the silence returns uncomfortably. your mind is racing as you struggle to keep the conversation going.

"i’m glad you were with him while he was so busy. as i said earlier, he seems to take on a lot by himself." you say, trying to fill the void, but the words come out weaker than you intended.

"he really does," alisa agrees, her voice light, as if she’s completely unaware of the storm raging inside you. "we ended up spending a lot of time together because of it. it’s been fun. and he really knows how to make you feel at ease, doesn’t he?"

the words twist in your gut, and you have to bite your lip to keep from letting out a sound of distress. you know exactly what she means. you’ve felt it too; the way kuroo can make you feel seen and heard.

and now, to hear someone else describe it, to know that she experienced it too, feels like a betrayal, even though you know it’s not.

"yeah," you manage to say. "he’s always been good at that."

the conversation drags on, each passing moment feeling like a slow unraveling of everything you thought you knew. your heart sinks deeper, weighed down by the uncertainty, the fear that maybe you’re too late. the realization that someone else has shared in those moments with him, that she knows things about him you might never know, is almost too much to bear.

"i’m happy you guys enjoyed your date," you say, trying to sound normal, but there’s a slight tremor in your voice.

alisa laughs again, this time with more amusement. "he told you it was a date too, huh?"

you blink, caught off guard by her response. "wasn’t it?"

"no, not really," alisa explains, her tone light as if it’s no big deal. "i just asked him out to coffee because of the success of our project, nothing more. he thought it was a date until he thanked me and mentioned it. so i cleared things up."

you don’t know what to say, the relief washing over you in waves, but mingling with confusion. before you can ask what happened after, alisa interrupts.

"oh, bokuto’s here," she says, her tone signaling the end of the conversation. "i’ll give him the phone. thanks a lot,"

"okay," you reply, still dazed, your mind racing with all the things you didn’t get to say or ask. bo takes the phone and tells you everything’s good, but his words barely register. you nod, barely listening, too caught up in your own thoughts.

you’re left with a thousand questions, but no answers. you want to know more, to ask her what happened next, but you guess you won’t get to know anymore.

did they talk about you? was kuroo relieved when she clarified it wasn’t a date, or was he disappointed? the uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you with nothing but doubts.

all of a sudden, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. your heart jumps into your throat. you hesitate, then get up to answer it. you bid bo goodbye on the other line and end the call as you approach closer.

maybe it was one of your roommates checking up on your or asking for an update about what has happened. you wondered who it might be as you opened the door.

and there he was.

kuroo, breathless and panting, his hair slightly disheveled as if he ran the whole way. his eyes lock onto yours, wide with urgency.

"kuroo," you begin, confused. "what are you doing-"

"i want you, y/n."

notes

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

next signal will be LOADED also bc we will see kuroo's pov !!

idk if this was a long update or not (than usual) but yeah

i had to edit this a lot of times bc i had to make sure that everything would be laid out well

taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo@emotiandon @urslytherin

[jjameslily]

i lost it, but someone made a post recently about what if it had been lily on the staircase and james rushing baby harry upstairs and how it would have changed the trajectory of the story

and now i can’t stop thinking that voldemort would have still given lily the choice to get out of the way instead of killing her outright like he had james and her sacrifice possibly would have protected both james and harry and james would have to live in a world without the love of his life but oh my god harry would have grown up so loved and so protected by his father

and james would have made sure to tell harry at every opportunity just how beautiful and extraordinary his mother was and take him to out of the wizarding world often to make sure harry was connected to the part of his mother’s world that she fought so hard for. not only to provide harry the type of upbringing that lily had wished for, but also so that james could feel closer to her in small bookshops and neighborhood parks and flower stands of local farmer’s markets because even though she was gone, he would spend his whole life loving her and honoring her memory and waiting for the day he could meet her again

[stormyelliotwritez]

do u think that like dating poolverine would you meet one over the other first or both at the same time and like how would that happen like omg the thoughts in my brain are thinking so hard rn. like. who falls first. how do yall get tgt. that kinda stuff.

i feel like theres so many ways this could go but i wanna hear your opinions… c:

okay okay okay, i have thoughts and thanks for this!!!

so if you’re a merc/hero like them and you meet after dp&w:

you meet deadpool first and you guys playfully flirt and you against your better judgement find yourself falling for him

hes oblivious af coz he can’t stop thinking about wolvie

he invites you over for like dinner and some drinks coz he wants wolvie to make friends

logan can smell the want and the affection on you and he can hear your heartbeat racing when you talk to them

he tells wade and it clicks for him and he realizes wait he can like you too so he falls for you and then logan does too

you get together by play flirting and then it becoming real flirting and then they’re inviting you to stay the night and soon enough you’re moving in and being cuddled all the time

if you’re in the void and you’re like a hero ig

they meet you in the building with elektra and gambit and blade and laura

you’ve been there so long that you don’t even care about romance and all that coz who has the time when smoke tries to eat you

wades so taken in by everything that he doesn’t really notice you but logan does and hes like damn that guys hot and emotionally dead so just his type

he starts initiating conversations and flirting with you like an old man by offering you a beer and teasing you

if you die at cassandra’s, he asks b-15 to bring you back and them wade falls for you when he sees how you and logan are so good for each other

if you go with them to go to wades home, wade falls for you when you help them fight the other hims (totally not mostly coz you’re hot when you fight)

you three get together after the events of the movie when you and logan have moved in with wade and it just kinda happens

If you’re their neighbor:

wade sees you around and mentions you to logan every so often

they kinda stalk you, well normal people would call it stalking but they just make sure you get home safe and nobody annoys you

after a while, you start noticing them around and you end up with a crush on them

so if you make it look like someones scaring you, then that’s your own business

they save you and then Wade immediately starts flirting with you and logans just like wanna have a beer and like any slightly not sane person, you say yes to the two men who’ve technically been stalking you

you guys get together by just the normal way of talking, then going on dates and then dating

those are what i can think of at the moment but if anyone wants to know my opinion of how you’d get with them in other scenarios, please ask me!!!!

[fiveredlights]

Hello could we please get more sim racer/single dad max? :)

set in the 2024 dutch grand prix (where i delayed the Bad Zandvoort Experience one year because i didn't want ellie and max's first meeting of daniel to be hampered by the accident.... and it fits my little timeline better)

“You asked. About Ellie’s name.” Daniel’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t say anything, still breathing in the gas mask attached to his face. 

Max has never told this story before, pushed it down into the deep recesses of his soul, scared someone would pull it out and turn it into something used to hurt him. 

Victoria and his mother were told her name came from him reading baby names off his phone until he heard one he liked. Telling them the real story somehow felt worse than coming home at seventeen with a baby daughter and a failed racing career. 

“I was about to go for my super licence test when the hospital called. Told me I had a child, and her mother didn’t want her. I had to go and pick her up otherwise she’d be put into adoption, or something.I got there, they handed her to me and asked for a name. And all that was in my head was you making that video for some guy who you barely knew. I thought maybe if she’s only ten percent as kind as you were then everything would be okay. So that’s why she’s called Danielle.” 

Max looks back up to see Daniel blinking away tears. “Fuck, sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you cry,” he stands up and starts wiping away the tears when Daniel reaches up and grabs his hand. He moves their linked hands over to his chest, holding it. He can feel Daniel’s heartbeat under their hands, a solid thump, thump in his chest. 

“Max,” Daniel says desperately. He takes off that mask—which is so, so stupid— rubs their linked hands over his heart again. “I can’t—I don’t know how—”

He’s looking at Max with that raw desperation, pleading with him to please, please get what I’m trying to say, Max. You have to know, Max. You have to—

“I know,” he cuts in before he does something even more stupid like reaching out with his other hand, the hand that’s currently broken into different pieces, the reason why he’s in a hospital in the Netherlands rather than racing. “I know, Daniel.”

Max squeezes their hands three times before bringing it over his own chest and hopes Daniel knows too.

[vitalverstappen]

How Do I Do This? - D. Ricciardo

summary: after a public divorce with your ex-husband (not danny), you found yourself learning to try again

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x famous!reader

warnings: mentions of divorce, drinking, swearing

word count: 1.1k

The divorce was messy. There were disputes over literally everything: who got what, how much money both of you got, who kept the dog. And it didn’t help that the media got a whiff of what was happening. Your failing marriage was plastered on every single outlet. 

It was for the best that you hid away from the public for a while. The pieces of you had shattered on the floor, and you needed the time to put yourself back together. 

A few months later, you slowly began putting yourself back in the public eye. Small trips to the coffee shop, out to lunch with some friends, or a smaller awards show. 

During this outing, you found yourself out to lunch with your childhood best friend, Kelly. She had been there through the thick and thin of your marriage, and the resulting divorce. There was nothing about your life that she didn’t know. 

She knew so well that she could tell you were healed, and truth be told, you were. So it was no surprise when a mischievous grin formed on her face. 

“What’s that look for?” You asked, already knowing what the answer was going to be

“Soooo” Kelly started “There’s this guy I know. A good friend of mine.”

“Wow, you have friends other than me. I’m hurt” You joked as you took a sip of your drink. It was obvious what she was hinting at. 

“Yeah, believe it or not” She laughed “But I think they’re your type y/n. His name is Daniel.” 

Kelly flipped her phone around to show you a picture of the man. Dark curly hair, brown eyes, and a charming smile. As much as you hated to admit it, he was your type. 

Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms. It had been years since you dated. And honestly, it terrified you having to have a conversation about someone’s favorite color again. It terrified you to have articles written about you again. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready.” You admitted “I can’t even remember what it’s like going on a first date. My last one was back when I was 22.” 

“Oh come on, y/n. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Just one date to test the waters. Get yourself back out there.” Kelly explained, “It can be in secret so the tabloids don’t write anything.” 

She was right. The date didn’t have to go anywhere. You could meet the guy, say you weren’t feeling it, and leave it at that. No attachments, no tabloids. 

“Fine,” You sighed, defeated. “Send the guy my number. I am not making the first move.”

You had honestly forgotten about the conversation with your friend. Days had passed and you hadn’t gotten a text from a new number. He probably didn’t want to text you. Or your agent had seen the text and thought it was spam. 

That is until one fateful night, your phone buzzed. 

Unknown: Hey y/n it’s Daniel. Kelly gave me your number

Amused, you picked up your phone. It took him long enough to get the confidence to text you.

You: Hey Daniel. I was starting to think Kelly forgot to lol

Only a few moments passed before your phone buzzed again. Another text from Daniel. 

Daniel: Lol that’s pretty much what happened. How’s your night going?

The two of you engaged in a bit of small talk over text. It was only a matter of time before he pulled the trigger on asking you out. 

Daniel: So I was wondering, are you free Saturday? I know a spot we could go - away from everything. 

Your fingers danced around your keyboard until you finally found a reply. 

You: Yeah I am! 

After rereading the text, you quickly deleted your response. It was just a little too desperate. 

You: Yup, I think so 

Again, you found yourself deleting the message. This time, too nonchalant. At least twenty different replies had to have been typed out before you finally gave up and responded with something simple and straight to the point. 

You: Yes

Immediately, you put your phone down, needing to connect back to your world. It was hard to fathom that you were back in the dating scene. Never did you think you would be back starting at square one. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone buzzing once again. 

Daniel: Great! I’ll pick you up at 7

And that’s how you found yourself panicking in your room Saturday evening. An excitement rushed through you that you hadn’t felt in years. It was like your teenage self was coming back to life. You and Daniel had texted off and on leading up, but today was the big day. 

Hours were spent digging through your extensive closet. Nothing that you had picked out seemed to be just right. Eventually, you landed on a little black dress that you hadn’t worn in years. 

Panic flooded your thoughts the entire time you got ready. What if you said something stupid? What if he brought up your divorce? What if it actually goes well?

Your thoughts were cut short when you read the clock: 6:52pm. Eight minutes left. 

You did the only thing you knew would calm your senses. Phone in hand, you called Kelly. One ring was all it took before her face showed up on your screen.

“Hey girl! You look hot!” She said as she picked up. 

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up” You admitted “I don’t know if I can do this” 

“Y/n, yes you can. It’s just a few hours of your life. Daniel’s a sweet guy-”

“Would it be wrong if I took a shot?” You blurted out, eyes on the bottle of vodka that stood on your kitchen counter. 

Through the phone, Kelly stifled a laugh. “I don’t think you need to, Danny’s an easy guy to talk to. But if you think it’ll help, be my guest.” 

Without a second thought, you twisted the cap off of the bottle and took a swig. The liquor burned your throat as you drank, but it was the reality check you needed. You were human, he was human. You’re going to be fine. 

“Better?” Kelly asked as you gagged 

Once you collected yourself, you said, “Better. I gotta go Kels. He should be picking me up any second.” As if on cue, you heard your doorbell ring. “Coming!” 

After one last quick look in the mirror, you found yourself at your door. Daniel was on the other side. This was it. One last inhale, then you opened the door. 

“Hey” Was all you were able to get out. Kelly had shown you photos of Daniel, but none of those could compare to how he looked standing in front of you. 

“Hi” He replied in the same breathy tone you had used only moments prior. A smile spread across his face. “You look amazing”

“So do you” 

Daniel reached out his hand, “M’lady, shall we?” 

Your lips parted into a smile as well as you laced your fingers into his, “We shall”

[bohemianblasphemy]

can you write maybe billyxreader where reader finds out he slept with maeve and it bothers them and billy reassures them that it wasn’t serious and he loves reader, and they ask him to prove it.

i love a lil angsty smut ✨

@billybutcherrtrash

Numb.

That was all that you could feel in that moment. The abundance of tension in that room where the Boys had their meeting was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Butcher had dropped some intel for their mission to take down Homelander; the superweapon that had supposedly killed Soldier Boy, as well as a small supply of Temp V.

It was however, when he casually dropped the bombshell of how he got this information, which was in the form of sleeping with Queen Maeve.

“Purely transactional, nothin’ else.” He’d grin, before continuing the meeting as if it didn’t mean anything- especially to you.

Billy was a complicated man- He’s determined to get what he wants, even if it meant to sleep with the enemy.

Nothing could have prepared you for that news, the pressure of his words hung on you like dead weight. Uncertainties filled your mind as you thought about the obvious feelings that you and Billy shared for each other.

“Did what we have matter to him? Or was it just to fill in the void?”

It seemed that everyone besides Butcher, who was still yapping away was focused on you and how you were feeling; sending invisible messages of sympathy and pity toward you as you sat there motionless trying to subdue your pain.

Trying to avert your mind to anything else than what you just heard had proved unsuccessful, the image of him and Maeve burned into your brain.

The day was unbearably long, it was too much for you, choosing to feign illness and left for home early. Butcher saw right through your getaway, knowing deep down why you did.

As night fell, your apartment was quiet. Sitting on your small couch as you looked out the window, ruminating thoughts of his ‘transaction’ still fresh in your head.

Knocking on the door snapped you out of your thoughts as you made your way to look through the peep hole, seeing none other than Billy himself.

A part of yourself wanted to tell him to fuck off, the other begging to open the door. The latter of your thoughts won as you opened the door- Butcher waltzing in without so much as an acknowledgement.

“Well yes, of course come right in!” Your voice oozed sarcasm and annoyance as you shut the door. He snapped around to look at you.

“You ain’t sick, i know that.” he grumbled. “talk to me, i ain’t leavin’ till ya do.” You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms as you stared at him- staying silent as you figured out the words to say.

“Why her, Billy?” you choked on your words, not looking him in the eye. “How could you think that was okay to sleep with someone else?” Butchers expression showed regret and annoyance at himself, punching the bridge of his nose.

“Love, it wasn’t serious. It was just for the job- nothin’ more, nothin’ less!” his voice rose. “you know the shit i gotta do for the Boys.”

“just for the job?! are you serious right now?” you echoed his words, disbelief laced through your tone. “How do you expect me to believe that?”

Silence fell over the both of you, surrounded by uncomfortable tension. “You didn’t think of me at all?” your voice cracked, Butcher looking over at you with a guilt ridden expression as he strides over to you- placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Listen to me.” he looked into your eyes, his gaze piercing through your anger. “I. Love. You. only you, you get me?” He looked for a sign in your eyes, anything to indicate how you felt.

He sighed. “Maeve and I… it was nothin’, she means nothin’ to me. Nothing like how i feel about ya. You’re the only one that matters to me, the only one i want.”

Your heart raced at his words, but the hurt you felt in your heart still lingered.

“Then prove it…”

You challenged, seeing Billy’s eyes widen.

“Show me that i am the only one you love.” you stepped toward him, the short distance closed between you.

“Oh I’ll prove it to ya alright…” he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. Before you could even speak his hand reached to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a bruising kiss.

The kiss deepened quickly, his tongue invading your mouth as he backed you up toward the nearest wall; he hands running up under your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Goosebumps formed along your now bare torso, Butchers calloused hands roaming around your body.

“God you’re just… fuckin’ stunning.” he mumbled as his lips attached to your neck and sucking a red mark onto you, making you purr.

His lips trailed further down as he sat on his knees in front of you you, his digits working on the drawstring on your pants as he pulls them down your thighs along with your underwear.

With a swift movement he turns you around, your chest pressed against the wall. His hands running up your thighs, pushing them apart.

“Bend over f’me…” he growled, his voice laced in arousal. Obeying his word, you pushed your hips backward, hands braced against the wall- hearing him groan softly at the sight before him.

You heard him shuffle forward, his large fingers dug into your fleshy backside. “I can’t get enough’f this pussy…” he whispered as he dragged his tongue along your folds, burying his face between your legs.

The sinful mix of your moans and Butchers mouth moving along you filled the room. Your legs shook as Billy continued lapping his tongue on you, occasionally smacking you ass causing you to yelp.

Your orgasm came quickly, Billy’s hands holding you up as your legs shook from the overwhelming pleasure of his skilled tongue. “God lovey, i could taste you for hours…” he chuckled, gently biting your ass cheek as he stood back up behind you, unzipping his jeans.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good love…” you felt him line up with you, moaning as he started to tease your sopping cunt with the tip of his cock before plunging deep inside of you.

Hot breath invaded your ear as you were pounded into from behind, Billy taking a grip of your hair.

“You feel me huh? you feel how f-fuckin’ ‘ard i am f’ya?” he grumbled, grabbing your hips roughly. “It’s all f’you. no one else but you, ya hear me?”

You couldn’t reply, the pleasure was too overwhelming for you. Rough fingers snaked down towards your middle, rubbing your sensitive clit.

You whined at the added sensation as your second release was near, Butcher nearing his as his cock pulsated within your walls.

Heavy groans erupted from behind you, his fingers moving faster as he felt you clench around him. “Fuck Billy!” you cried out, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. “that’s a good fuckin’ girl, cum on my cock…” he growled in your ear.

His thrusts became sloppier as he came inside you. “fuck… i can’t get over you, my sweetheart…” he praised, turning you around and bringing you in for a passionate kiss.

Pulling away from the kiss he looked you, looking in your eyes - hoping to find a glimpse of convincing you of his love.

Your eyes look at him with a neutral expression.

“As good as that was…” you giggled, moving your mouth closer to his ear.

“it’s gonna take a lot more convincing…”

[hajimesh]

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐skyfall. geto suguru

part one. sunrise (her)

⥅ word c. 4,411

⥅ warnings. fem!reader, non sorcerer au (suguru is a grad student), established relationship (suguru and reader live together), mentions of drinking and smoking, domestic fluff, unreliable narrator

𝄢♭bloom ‐ the paper kites / not about angels ‐ birdy / beautiful baby ‐ elizabeth

Before meeting Suguru, you never understood the hype behind sunsets. People often label them as 'majestic' and take endless pictures of the same orange sky when it should be general knowledge that the real beauty resides within the quiet mornings, the world stirring awake and the sky tinting itself in soft hues of blue and pink like a Monet painting. No sunset could ever compare to the crisp and refreshing air that comes with the break of dawn. 

So, if someone were to ask you, you’d pick sunrises in a heartbeat.

Perhaps what makes sunrises better is that you get to see him and his dark hair —that puts the night sky itself to shame— as soon as you wake up, walking down the street with his characteristic hunched over frame as he kicks the rocks standing in his way. He hasn't seen you (which is rare, he's always trying to catch your attention as soon as he rounds the corner of your street), sitting by the open window just two floors above him. But when he finally does, purple eyes stare blankly at you.

"Who–" You watch him squint his eyes, stopping abruptly, and your grin only grows. It takes him two ragged breaths and a gasp to finally address you by your name, "what are you doing up there?"

You wave at him as you lean over the windowsill. He can't be serious, you think to yourself, "I live here, Suguru."

He seems tired, rubbing at his eyes before rushing to the building’s entrance and disappearing from your sight. It wouldn't be a surprise if he had a rough night, suddenly making you feel bad for not making sure you had a warm cup of coffee to welcome him back.

The apartment door opens and Suguru's silhouette slips through, his keys hitting loudly the porcelain bowl by the entrance. You don't even have to think twice, standing up from your spot by the window and meeting him halfway in what has to be the tightest hug you have ever gotten from him.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

He's nuzzling his face against your neck, breathing in the fresh scent of your body wash and leaving a kiss on your skin. His hold on you is so tight yet comforting, just as the silence of the world at six in the morning.

“I know,” your fingers thread through his hair, realizing it's longer than you remembered, “would you like to sleep now or have breakfast first?”

“Cuddles.”

You roll your eyes and tug the hairs at the nape of his head softly, “That wasn’t an option.”

Still in his arms, he guides you towards the bed placed at the corner of the apartment, and once you're under the covers, it's you who now hides your face in his neck.

“Why are you still up?” he asks with his lips against the crown of your hair.

For a moment, you choose to focus on his warm breath caressing your skin. If you tell him you were waiting for him, it's very likely that you’ll end up being scolded.

Shrugging, you nuzzle closer to his chest, seeking more of his warmth, “couldn’t sleep without you.”

“Is your insomnia back?”

“Think so,” you mumble, “but I got to greet you back, so I don't mind.”

It's silent for a while, the only sounds coming from your breaths and the noise of cars driving down the street. The world is slowly waking up, clouds that resemble cotton candy floating in the sky and a light, chill breeze coming through the open window.

“Sugu, you should sleep.”

“I will,” he breathes out, his hold on you tightening for a moment, “now that I have you in my arms.”

“Oh my god, that was so cheesy!”

His chest reverberates with his laugh, lips tugging upwards as he sweeps his tongue across his teeth in a cheeky way. There's no way your heart can watch and not melt as he does that. 

“You never complained before," he tries to defend himself, his smirk coming back as he leans closer to whisper in your ear, "and I know you love it.”

You look up at him, eyes gleaming under the sunlight, and you swear you haven't felt this happy in weeks, “I love you.”

A mix of emotions seems to swirl in his eyes, staring back at yours weirdly. It's hard to pinpoint what's going through his mind, but you can tell that whatever it is, it's troubling him.

“I love you so much more.”

—

It's almost eight pm, and Suguru hasn't woken up.

“Sugu,” you whisper, leaning closer to his face as you search for a sign of consciousness, “you’ll be late.”

“Babe, c’mon… five more minutes?” he groans, voice throaty and laced with sleep.

“We've been sleeping all day!”

His arms circle your waist, pulling you on top of him, “s’all your fault, I was dreaming of you,” he mumbles with his eyes still closed.

“How is that my fault?” you bite back, but when you don't hear a reply from him, you lift your head and rest your chin on his chest.

He fell asleep again.

Removing yourself from his hold, you crawl on top of him until you're so close that your lips brush against his. 

“You'll be late for work,” you start littering kisses all over his jaw and watch as his brows furrow slightly, “I shouldn’t have let you nap after we had lunch.”

Still half asleep, he cups your face between his hands and pulls you down for a kiss. It's lazy and a bit clumsy, you blame it on the fact that he just woke up. But after getting a taste of him, you're tempted to ask him to stay.

With his hands still at the sides of your face, he pulls your mouths apart and gazes lovingly at your face, brushing a few strands of hair away from it. Suguru's eyes always make your knees falter, and your heart tremble, especially when they focus on yours.

“How did you sleep?” he asks before squinting his eyes at you, “wait– did you even sleep?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did. No need to start nagging at me.”

He yawns, stretching his arms above his head while you climb off of him, “I need to shower.”

“Yeah, you stink,” you fake a gag only to squeal a second later when he pinches your sides.

Finally, he gets on his feet, and you watch your boyfriend get closer to you. Sometimes you forget how imposing his presence can be, his height and large frame suddenly making you feel small under his stare.

“Shower with me,” he rasps out in your ear, hands grabbing you by your hips as he begins to nip at your neck. 

“O-Oh?” with a raised eyebrow and warm cheeks, you nod bashfully and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, “lead the way.”

The sound of your giggles fills the small apartment as he carries you bridal style towards the bathroom, his own laugh joining yours.

—

“Don’t forget your wallet!”

He's running late, just as you predicted. 

With his hair still damp from the shower, he runs from one side to the other collecting his stuff, “what would I do without you?”

Shaking your head, you watch as he finally makes his way to the door and picks up his coat.

“Work hard! I'll be waiting for you.”

Suguru stops abruptly, his hand already on the doorknob as he grimaces, “I should probably tell you not to, but… ugh fuck it, I’ll be selfish.”

He leans forward to kiss you, his free hand holding you by the back of your neck as the other remains on the door knob. Unfortunately, the kiss ends as quickly as it began.

In your daze, you barely have a chance to smile back at him as he waves goodbye.

“See you at sunrise!”

“Again? ”

You grimace when Suguru’s loud voice disrupts the peaceful morning. It’s still pretty early, the streets empty and void of other souls besides nature blooming around you, waking up to another spring morning. 

But besides the white cat climbing down the roof and the trail of ants on the wall, it’s just you and him.

Your heart warms up in familiar delight, and you wonder if there will ever be a day in which your chest won’t feel like expanding and shrinking at the same time just at the sight of his handsome smile. A small fit of giggles escapes you as you shake your head disapprovingly, a finger placed on your lips signaling him to be quiet.

“Again.”

Blowing him a kiss from your spot, you snicker as you watch his grin widen, his long legs moving faster towards the building. Good thing he seems as eager as you are, you’ve always hated how long it takes him to reach the front door of your apartment.

As soon as he gets inside, he comes face to face with you and immediately goes for your lips, both mouths meeting in a soft kiss as you stand at the door.

Your surroundings seem to blur around you, his scent invading your mind and his touch melting your skin. The emotions stirring in you are so strong that almost have you in tears. It’s becoming too much, and yet you refuse to part from his lips, knowing that it would only make room for the emptiness again.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, eyelashes fluttering as you slowly open your eyes and gaze at him, his tender gaze already fixed on you.

“I smell food,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking your nose afterward, “waffles?”

Humming, you bury your face in his chest, allowing his warmth to envelop you, “you probably haven’t had a decent meal in weeks.”

His hand rubs circles on your back as he chuckles. You really don’t want to let go of him, but the food’s growing cold. So, against your will, you squirm away from his grasp and start dragging him by his hand.

The kitchen is just a few steps away, a small white table sitting in the center with a fake succulent on it, and two plates full of freshly cooked food. It took you a quick trip to the grocery store since there only seemed to be pizza leftovers in the fridge (quite unusual of him, you’re actually planning on asking him about it later).

“What do you think?”

His eyebrows raise slightly and his mouth parts in quiet awe, his purple irises shining with hues of amber thanks to the sunlight filtering through the window. Those same eyes suddenly switch from the food to your face, and your knees falter, there’s a glee in them that you haven’t seen in a long time, and it fills your insides with butterflies until they threaten to spill out of your mouth.

“I fucking love you. You know that, right?” he says after cupping your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering and refusing to look away from you.

The laugh that bubbles in your chest only makes his grin widen, raw adoration and happiness emanating from the both of you. You leave a light peck of affection on his jaw and then push him toward his seat.

“You’re gonna love me even more once you taste it.”

“Impossible.”

The dumb smile refuses to leave your lips, your cheeks hurting and muscles cramping, but that’s Suguru’s effect on you: his mere presence is enough to make you smile in a love struck daze.

He groans after taking the first bite, “this,” he says after swallowing, pointing at the half-eaten waffle with his fork, “tastes heavenly. I missed your cooking so much, baby.”

Taking the compliment with a bashful smile, you choose to focus on your food and begin to eat as well. 

“I noticed you’re walking to work now. Did something happen to your car?” you ask trying to start some small talk and at the same time, it was one of the many questions you have sitting at the back of your mind.

“I'm trying this new thing called being eco-friendly.”

A loud gasp leaves your throat, “You’re such a hypocrite! If you cared about that, you wouldn’t ask for straws at restaurants!”

“Hey,” he points a finger at you, “that’s for the turtles, not the planet.”

“Huh? Even worse?!”

The amusement in his features only enhances his attractive looks, even if it’s so early in the morning and right after having a night shift, he always manages to remind you what a handsome man he is. You huff and pout involuntarily, it truly isn’t fair.

“Relax, I use the metal straws you gave me,” he reaches out across the table to pinch your cheek, “I'm not that evil.”

Still with a slight pout on your lips, you stand up and go to the fridge in order to fill your drinks. 

“Could you pass me a Red Bull?” he calls from behind you, and you frown.

“Suguru, it’s seven in the morning.”

He hums, “Yeah, and I don’t want to fall asleep during my 9 am lecture.”

“Then drink cold water,” you offer, closing the door of the fridge after fetching the jar of juice for you and filling his glass with water, “you’ll get an arrhythmia one of these days.”

You see him sigh once he sees you return with no sight of a Red Bull in your hands, but you aren’t backing down. With a pointed look, you silently stand your ground until he seems to give up.

“Fine, no energy drinks.” 

You nod, relieved that he’s finally listening to you. God, when did he become that stubborn? 

He takes a sip of his water, a tiny smirk stretching his lips around the rim of the glass as he stares at you, “I’ll just buy a coffee on my way to class, then.”

“Suguru!”

“What?”

—

Watching Suguru sleep has always comforted you. A dreamy sigh leaves your lips as you observe the way his dark eyelashes rest above his cheekbones, hiding those beautiful eyes you fell in love with just a few years ago.

It hasn’t been long since you woke up, the room dark and barely illuminated by the setting sun. The shadows of the trees dance all over the walls as they sway thanks to the wind, a low whistle coming from the windows as the wind picks on its strength and clashes against the glass.

You don’t think it can get any more peaceful than that.

In a matter of minutes, the sky begins to turn darker, which means he has to be up soon so he can make it to work on time. Moving closer to his side, you peck his cheek and whisper a soft ‘hi’ once you feel his arm drape over your waist.

“Hello, pretty girl,” his voice is hoarse and heavy with sleep, a lazy smirk gracing his lips. That is until he notices the pendant hanging from your neck, “where did you find that?” 

Your hand automatically wraps around it, smiling to yourself as you look down to examine it, “Oh! It was in your drawer. So weird because I thought I had it with me.”

“You must’ve left it.”

His tone turns dry, which makes you look up from your chest and notice the distant look in his eyes, immediately confusing you. Weird, he seemed fine just seconds ago?

“Do you remember when you gave it to me?” you shuffle closer, wanting to keep at bay whatever thoughts he’s having since it’s clear they aren’t pleasant, “honestly, I still had my doubts about you… back then, I mean.”

“Why?” His lips turn into the cutest pout you’ve ever seen, and it almost makes you lose your train of thought.

How is he so cute? You think to yourself. Even after three years since you met, all it takes is a smile from him, and you’re putty in his hands.

“I never thought you’d like me back, and I was waiting for someone to tell me it was a bet or a dream.”

And it had truly felt like one. As silly as it sounded, it all seemed too good to be true, which meant you were bound to have your doubts. The good morning texts, walking to class together, and spending hours in his dorm studying for your exams; Suguru behaved like a true gentleman, through and through.

Falling in love with him has to be the easiest thing you've ever done. He captured your heart in a matter of weeks, and a year later, on your first anniversary, clasped a necklace around your neck—giving you a piece of him to carry with you.

He caresses your cheek lovingly, bringing you back from the lovely memories before speaking, “I know I was a broke college student, but I wasn't that broke to make our relationship a bet.”

You quickly stand up to pick up a pillow and throw it at him, laughing as he scrunches up his face before he receives the hit. 

“Asshole.”

Suguru laughs and watches you walk away once he removes the pillow from his head, answering back with that sweet voice of his, “sweetheart.”

“We should do something special,” you say as you turn your head over your shoulder to look at him, the last rays of sun hitting your body and casting an ethereal glow around you, “our anniversary is coming up.”

He seems to be in a daze for a second, his stare fixed on you and an emotion you had yet to see from him brimming from his eyes.

“Yeah, we should.”

“Alright,” Suguru looks so funny with his hands on his hips while standing in the middle of the empty street, “as much as I love coming home to you waiting for me, you need to get some sleep.”

You dismiss his comment with a wave of your hand, focusing instead on the hues of blue shining behind him.

“Whatever.”

Less than two minutes later, he’s finally in your arms, his embrace tight as he rocks your bodies softly to the tune of your morning playlist.

“If I'm asleep, I can't give you your good morning kiss, y’know?”

He’s getting tired of your excuses, and it’s so easy to tell by the way he no longer fights you. However, that doesn't stop him from punishing you for it. 

Your vision turns upside down as he throws you over his shoulder and carries you to bed, blatantly ignoring your complaints.

“I think it’s time I tell you the story of a woman that refused to sleep at night,” he settles you under the covers, his arm resting under your neck while the other pinches your cheek, “so the devil himself came to visit her.”

“Suguru…” you trail off, a sense of dread quickly creeping over you, “don’t.”

Ignoring you, he continues, “she liked to sit by the window–”

“Noooo, stop! I'll sleep, I promise!”

“Don’t be rude and stop interrupting me,” he squishes your cheeks together and stares at you with fake anger, “also, I don't believe you anymore.”

There's nothing else for you to do but pout, knowing he's going to use your fear of ghosts to his advantage.

“As I was saying, she sat by the window until one night a group of people stopped by. They gave her a box and told her to keep it, and that they’d come back for it the next day.”

By now, you have your face tucked against his arm, hiding half of it, while the blanket covers your ears.

“However, in the morning, she opened the box and found a dead cat,” he doesn’t even need a dramatic pause to have you gasping in surprise, a cold chill running all over your body, “a priest told her that the dead were trying to curse her since she was disrupting their time to roam the living world, so he advised her to get a living cat in the box and return it.”

Where does Suguru get all his crazy stories? You have no idea. But this one took the ball out of the park.

His face is still serious as he finishes the story, “they showed up that night, three in the morning sharp, and asked for the box. She returned it with the cat inside, and luckily they left her alone.” his tone quickly switches to a chirpy one and smiles, “that’s why you should sleep at night!”

“Suguru, you’re so mean,” you whine, “what if they show up? You know I like staying up at night!

“Not my problem.”

A slap to his shoulder with your hand comes as an immediate response.

“Ow! Who’s being mean now?” he rubs the spot you hit, but he’s so close to losing it, his eyes crinkling as he tries not to laugh.

“You asked for it,” you reply in a low mumble, and he finally gives in to the hilariousness of the situation.

“C’mere, baby. Let’s sleep,” he sees your cheeks squished against the pillow and pinches them, cooing at you at the same time, “so cute.”

Like a spell, you feel your eyelids become heavy, and you find yourself wrapped in his arms, his scent lulling you to a state of calmness.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

—

Suguru's hoodie sits on the bed as he gets ready for another shift. You’ve been watching him get ready for the past ten minutes, and you don't think you'll ever get tired of it.

“How’s 'toru?” you ask, not remembering when was the last time you saw your boyfriend’s best friend. Just like him, he also worked the night shifts at the bar while balancing his last year in grad school, “I don’t think I've seen him around.”

Satoru practically lived in your apartment, loving how you always spoil him and side with him. To this day, Suguru says he regrets introducing him to you.

He leans down to your level and whispers, “you know how he gets during finals,” his fingers grasp a few strands of your hair to play with and doesn't say anything else.

“Well, tell him to come visit, so he can rest a bit. Also, he promised to watch a romcom every Saturday with me.”

This finally gets his attention, his eyebrows raising in interest, “why can’t you watch it with me?”

“You said you didn’t want to,” you shrug, “too cheesy for your liking or some shit like that.”

Suguru stands up to his full height again and grabs his hoodie, almost ready to go to the bar, “I'll bring popcorn when I get back, how’s that sound?”

You follow him to the door, watching as he slips his shoes on before turning around to face you, “are you sure? I know it's not the kind of genre you usually like to watch.” 

“I won't let a movie stop me from spending time with my girlfriend,” he smiles and kisses your lips with a long and noisy peck that makes your heart happy, “and we are playing Mario Kart after.”

“But I suck at Mario Kart!” 

“Exactly.”

—

It’s almost time for Suguru to come home and since the last few days have felt like the honeymoon phase when you moved in together, you decide you should spoil him with warm tea and a few of his favorite pastries. 

As you make sure to turn off the stove and place the kettle safely on top of it, you hear the familiar jiggle of keys at the door. He steps in with his shoulders slumped and his eyes red, a very unusual sight that, truthfully, scares you a bit.

You walk up to him with the intent of helping him get rid of his clothes, to comfort him, but a particular smell catches your attention.

“You smoked,” it wasn’t a question.

He grimaces in return, “I'll go brush my teeth.”

You follow him to the bathroom, observing him splash water on his face before picking up his toothbrush.

“Rough night?”

He looks at you through the mirror and stares at your reflection for what feels like an eternity, but then he just shrugs, places his toothbrush back next to yours, and exits the bathroom.

“You could say so.”

“Can you believe you’re almost done with your master's? You're graduating this semester, right?”

As soon as you see him nod, you beam and clap your hands together.

“We should celebrate! Is the bottle of white wine still in the fridge?” but with a shake of his head, you have your answer, “then let’s go to the store, my treat! I'll get you your favorite beers too.”

“Isn’t it too early?” he takes a look at his watch and indeed it is early, barely past seven in the morning, “and I don't drink.”

Your smile falters a bit, confused at his last statement, “since when?”

“A few months ago,” he kisses the top of your head before pouring the boiling water in a cup.

You drop the subject and choose to focus on something else, excited to see his new future approaching, “what's the plan, then? Moving to a bigger place?”

His smile turns into a sad one and shakes his head, “I want us to stay here.”

It feels like someone just threw a bucket of cold water at you, your senses sharper than ever and your mind free of the fog that clouded it. It's unsettling how it's all laced with a hint of dread, no longer being able to smile until you make sure he faces your reality.

“You can’t.”

The answer is immediate, his body turning rigid and the defensiveness radiating off of him almost palpable.

“Why not?” he retaliates, his tone harsh and cold, “we’ve been living here since we graduated, you like this place.”

So that was the reason? A fond smile settles on your lips, and a bittersweet feeling takes over you. Pushing his cup aside, you move closer to him, your hands cupping his cheeks and making him look at you.

Like a switch, Suguru’s eyes fill with tears, glistening like the prettiest amethyst, even though the sight breaks your heart. You have never seen him so broken, your own heart aching at the sight of your boyfriend on the verge of breaking down in your arms. 

But you can’t drag this on and keep fooling yourselves.

“It's time to let go, Suguru.”

End of part one.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hey, i'm not sure if i can ask u this(u can just not answer if u want)but here i was wondering....

What Would happen if Sun and Mac(separate) met a fem Reader that is an incredibly nice and chill(and very beautiful)person, she's really kind and looks out for them, they bond and become friends in the process, but then after one crazy drunk Night, they don't see the Reader nor hear bout' her for a while(which upsets them a lot), until they run into her again, trying to contain their joy(or frustration if u prefer) they suddenly notice a child behind her,one that looks exactly like them, demanding an explanation, turns out the Reader didn't tell them anything BC they were scared of simply Being Seen as a "one Night stand", not having their feeling Being reciprocated and having their child Being rejected(also didn't want push the fatherly into them) so she raised the child herself, and always made sure to give them all her love despite not having it's father(s) by her Side.

a/n: I got a bit carried away and of course Macaque’s is long because this would shatter his trust and it wouldn’t recover as fast as Wukong would.

One night stand reunion //Sun Wukong x fem!reader x Macaque (separately)

Sun Wukong

When he first met you he swore that love at first sight wasn’t a thing but you were incredibly nice and beautiful, maintaining a chill attitude no matter the situation and easily continuing the conversation naturally.

You both first met at a festival on the outskirts of the city where you found him talking with another boy before catching your gaze. Of course, you knew who he was but it didn’t really matter to you since you just wanted to talk to him.

After a couple of minutes, you both warmed up to one another and talked the night away. You both clearly hit it off immediately and slowly became friends which started edging towards more as you both said flirt after flirt.

One night both of you were having drinks and became tipsy, getting closer and closer with hands roaming up both of your bodies. You kissed passionately and slowly stripped down to nothing, ending the night in each other's arms exhausted and panting harshly.

However as days passed he didn’t see you and started to search all over the city, asking MK and the gang if they’d seen you and describing your features only to find nothing. Anybody could tell Wukong was depressed about your sudden disappearance and tried to cheer him up only for every attempt to fail.

A couple of years later suddenly MK calls Wukong to come to the shop since someone was asking to meet him and zoomed over to meet this stranger. You were nervously pacing back and forth with your child holding onto your hand behind you, poking you to get your attention, and looking wide-eyed at Wukong who stares shocked at you both.

His eyes go from you to your child who is almost a carbon copy of him aside from a few details and back to you, ushering your kid to MK and Pigsy while you listen to his frustration and grievances. He was right on some points and you teared up when you yelled that you were scared he didn’t love you back or worse that he didn’t want the baby so you raised them alone.

There were a few minutes of silence before Wukong kneeled down and peered over at his kid, slowly coaxing them out and smiling warmly when he introduced himself and apologized for not being in their life.

The entire night was emotional for everyone and you all spent the night on FFM, sharing stories from the past years and cuddling each other to make up for lost time.

Macaque

Now you were at a full moon harvest festival when you decided to take a break and hang on the edge of the area when you spotted a dark-furred monkey leaning against a tree. He didn’t seem up to chat and mostly ignored you for a bit, respecting his wishes and sitting in pleasant silence. You heard him sigh and speak up, making a joke about how persistent you were to make conversation.

Macaque was surprised by how insistent you were to talk to him but also how nice you were, respecting his wishes and relaxing next to him. You were gorgeous on top of how amazing your personality was it made him want to know you more than just a stranger but his fractured trust issues made it hard to get to know you better.

Unlike Wukong it takes a couple of weeks to become good friends and a couple of months to get to that night where you get drunk, leaning on him and slowly creeping closer. Another drink and you both go for a kiss, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring him back to your apartment and lead him to your bedroom, quickly stripping and feeling him trailing kisses down your neck.

All of a sudden though, in the following days you disappeared, and he at first thought you were busy so he left it at that but it quickly changed when he couldn’t find you anywhere. All he could find was a note taped to your door for him and it read that you were eternally sorry for what you were about to do but you didn’t want to burden him.

This shattered already broken trust issues and caused him to go into a year-long depression where he had so many different emotions bothering him it physically pained him. No one could get him out or break him out of it and he hated that a part of him still held out hope for you.

2 or so years later he seemed to have finally been getting over you or at least seemed as though he got over it to others when he was walking along the marketplace only to see a familiar face pass through the crowd. Without hesitation, he slipped into the shadows to see if it was really you and it was!

Part of him was furious that you had the audacity to show up here like nothing had ever happened but the other part was nearly crying out of joy that you were back. Without question, he dropped you through a shadow portal to a more private area and stepped out of the shadows.

You both stared at one another before he started shouting about how you didn’t even explain why you left or bothered to even tell him in person. He laid into you with shout after shout and screaming how much you hurt him with tears pricking his eyes, looking at your face with tears streaming down your face, and waited patiently for a response.

However, a small voice spoke up, and a nearly identical version of him but a toddler pulled on your hand also crying, asking you if you were okay and to not cry with a hand over one set of their six ears. You continued to sob but kneeled down on the concrete to hug your kid barely sputtering out apologies to them about the noise and that you were just sad.

He watched in shock as the dark-furred cub wrapped their tail around your arm and cupped your face, trying to wipe your tears and getting caught in a staring match with him. The kid looked back and forth between their mom and him before standing protectively in front of you and correctly assuming he was the reason you were upset.

After a couple of minutes, he knelt down as well continuing to look at your kid and having trouble figuring out what to say since he was still hurt but also now understanding the situation. You sniffled and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes, staring at the ground beginning to explain that you panicked.

You told him how after a couple of days you took a pregnancy test and it came up positive but you assumed that he didn’t love you back and would be disgusted or hateful if he found out about your baby. Then explain to your kid that he was their father and profusely apologizing and understanding if he never wanted to see you again.

It was like Macaque was looking into a mirror as he saw the child’s six ears flutter and he took down the glamour around his own ears, seeing the cub light up in astonishment and touch their own ears. They slowly walked toward him and tentatively put his hand out, wanting to touch his dad and slowly allowing them to hug him.

All the while you looked on with a bittersweet smile and heard Macaque respond that it would take a long time for him to fully trust you again but he could understand why you what you did. You started crying when you saw him quietly crying too and crumbled as you were allowed to hug him as well.

[olsenmyolsen]

Hey!!! So im finally gonna send a request from that prompt list lol.

May i please request. absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

I dont mind either elizabeth or wanda, but can I ask that yn has a buzz cut on her sides back back of her head. And as she just had it redone yn makes a comment about her feeling like a sheared sheep lol

Just got my hair redone and I always say that after touching the back. I just wish I had someone who would stroke my hair also;_; id melt if wanda/elizabeth did.

If that's not too much trouble ;_; please and thank you

A Sheared Sheep

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

No Powers AU - (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: You got a haircut without telling your girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff.

Word Count: 1.3K

Content: Girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, Meet-Cute, Baking, Haircuts, Fluff

You had met Wanda Maximoff only a few months prior. It was a classic meet-cute moment.

A lapse in thinking had led your iced latte to go from your hand to her shirt. An exchange of apologies, small talk, quick glances, some light flirting, and a dinner to make up for it all led to the two of you dating.

It's been bliss and wonderful. You two have only grown stronger and more comfortable. Sharing details about your lives and what you want for the future.

Wanda was very upfront in talking about kids, and she said she didn't care how it happened but that this was something she wanted. That made you feel better when you pointed out through some laughter that you didn't have the parts to help her in the department.

Wanda shook her head and hugged you tightly before running her fingers through your long hair.

An action that always made you smile.

And yeah, sure, talking about kids a few months into a relationship might seem forward, but within the last year, Wanda had recently called it off with her fiancé. Plus, she was older than you. Not significantly, but enough to where you needed another hand to count the years separating you two.

Anyways, like I was saying.

What you and Wanda have is clearly special. And you know she loves you for you. Not a whole lot could change that as of right now.

Well, that's what you keep telling yourself as you close your eyes in the hairdresser's chair. "We really don't have to do it Y/n." Your favorite hairdresser and good friend Natasha pointed out for the hundredth time.

You see, every once in a while, once your hair grows past the point of driving you crazy, you usually just buzz it. Well, at least most of it. Normally, Natasha styles it or just trims one side. Today, the two of you were talking about buzzing the sides and back of your head, but then Wanda popped into your mind and stopped everything.

No, she didn't telepathically communicate with you. As cool as that sounds.

No, the thought of her popped into your mind.

She has only ever known you with your long hair. Would she even like you if you didn't look like... like you?

You shook your head and told yourself that, of course, she would still like you. Hell, she loves you!

Thus, the thought cycle repeats.

"Y/n, why don't you just tell her you want to get it done?" Natasha asks as she watches you look over yourself in the mirror. "Because I want it to be a surprise." You answer back with conviction. "Okay, so then why aren't we doing it?" Natasha asks another question, making you close your mouth.

You sigh.

And after a few moments, you tell Natasha to start cutting.

As your hair fell to the tile floor, your stomach began doing flips and tangling itself up, waiting to be in front of Wanda.

"Wanda?" You called out into her condo as you closed the front door behind you. "I'm in the kitchen!" Wanda yelled. You smiled at her voice and kicked off your shoes by the front door before making your way through her space.

It was just as soft and cozy as she was.

The smell of cinnamon and apple pie filled your nose as you walked closer and closer to her green-tiled kitchen. That backsplash was the first thing she did to make this place her own.

You loved the color.

"Smells amazing!" You said as you appeared around the corner of the kitchen as Wanda pulled out a second pie and set it on a stand to cool.

Wanda briefly glanced your way with a big smile. "Thank you!" She turned back and turned off the oven as she started moving around to put some dirty dishes into the sink. "I made two pies. One for us and the other for Agatha. I think she and Ralph are having some trouble, so I thought I would bake her a pie, too." You leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen with a warm smile, watching as your girlfriend.

She really was beautiful inside and out.

"It took me forever to find the specific brand of apples I wanted. You know, I didn't want it to be too sweet or sour, and then-" Wanda shook her head after wiping her counter down. She let go of the rag and chuckled. "Sorry." She glanced towards you again.

Still not noticing the WestView Witches baseball cap you're wearing to cover up your haircut.

"I'm rambling." Wanda brushes her apron and quickly unties it before fast walking to you with a spring in her step. She quickly kisses your lips and pulls away as she hangs up the apron. "How was your day?!" She looks towards you, and then that's when you see her notice in her eyes. Her mouth goes from a smile to a shocked look. She takes a step back and looks over your face before she reaches out and gently takes your chin, moving your face from side to side. "Y/n- I- when-" She can't form a sentence as she lifts her hand to the baseball cap. "Can I?" She asks after a beat.

You nod, afraid saying anything will spook her.

Slowly, Wanda grabs the end of the cap and lifts it off your head. You hear her breath hitch as she looks over your very short hair. Her fingers slowly run through your hair before she brings them down along the backside of your skull, where the buzz is prominent, making you shiver slightly at the contact of her nails brushing you.

Wanda notices as her eyes move to meet yours. "Does that hurt?" She asks carefully. You laugh through your nose and shake your head. "It feels good. Really great, actually." You say in the same tone as her. Wanda nods, glad that she isn't hurting you.

She brings her hand back up and runs through it again with more pressure. "How does that feel?" Wanda asks.

"Good. Touching the back is the best part." You say before making a joke. "I feel like sheared sheep." Wanda can't help but smile and laugh quietly before she removes her hand and brings it down to yours. Holding you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." You say, looking to Wanda, who looks to you, waiting for more. "It's just something I've always done. Do you hate it?" You then question, and just as quick as you ask, Wanda shakes her head, giving you an answer. "I don't hate it. I just wish I would've known." She squeezes your hand.

You nod.

After a few seconds, Wanda grips your hand. "How about while we let the pies cool, we can go sit and relax," Wanda says, making you nod and following her to the living room, sitting next to her on the couch in your usual spots.

Wanda flips through some channels before coming across a marathon of her favorite sitcom.

The two of you relax and cuddle into one another. Letting the surprise of your haircut fall into the back of everyone's mind.

After an episode of the show, you feel Wanda's hand move from scratching your back to up your neck and through the back of your head, stroking your buzz. You smile and let out a satisfied sigh that makes Wanda look over at you with her own smile. "I like it." She states making you feel warm and happy with your choice.

You turn to her. "I'm glad." Wanda leans into you and kisses you as her fingers scratch your head. "My little sheep." She jokes as you two part, making you roll your eyes. Playfully.

All in all, that joke wasn't as bad as when you brought Agatha her pie, and she turned to Wanda and said: "So how many Y/n's do you have to count in your sleep to you fall asleep?"

dividers by @/benkeibear