#so we interrupted the fucking bullshit

[tshifty]

.

[sluttyten]

Fucking wild day at work today like what the fuck

[basilwalsils]

Autistic lateral violence is hard for me to wrap my head around? What do you mean you struggle to recognise social cues but don't struggle to weponise them?

[wriokitty]

“Did you know—”

“I don’t care,” Sukuna interrupts, wholly disinterested. It’s half past three—(which is, of course, his fault, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less tired).

But you, wholly uncaring, promptly ignore him. “—That some female spiders eat the male ones after mating?”

“What do you want me to do with this information?” He looks at you irritably, glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. You flash him a grin—it’s a mischievous little thing, your lips curled in a cheeky, flirty way that warns him silently that he’s about to risk popping another vein. He seems to do that around you quite often, and it certainly feels like it’s underway once more.

(And, as it always is, his intuition would be right).

“It’s a warning,” you hum.

He snorts, raising a clearly disbelieving brow as he hums, “oh yeah? For what? Are you gonna—wha-hey!”

Not a lot catches Sukuna off guard. You giggle as he barks out a surprised yelp of your name, harshly shoving you away from his chest. There’s a nice, fresh, very crystal and very clear outline of your teeth marked right on the flesh surrounding his nipple.

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks incredulously.

You let out a soft, amused little giggle that sounds through the room before he feels your weight shift and fall onto him, making him grunt as his arms steady you and his eyes stare up at your hovering face with an agitated purse of his lips.

“I’m eating you,” you say cheekily, “see?” For emphasis, you leave an equally as shocking bite to his bicep, your head leaning down to get a mouthful of his bare arm. He lets out a low, startled grunt before one large and very firm hand grabs the back of your neck and yanks you off.

“Have you completely lost it?” He hisses.

“We just mated—”

“Who on Earth talks about sex like that? We are not animals who—”

“—And now I’m going to eat you after mating. Like a female spider.”

“If you’re going to be weird, just go the fuck to sleep,” he grumbles lowly.

Sukuna is tired.

(And yes, the reason is partly because he’s a bit inexhaustible once he’s felt the velvet heat of your walls, and yes, it’s technically his own greediness that’s worn him out so physically for the night. But that’s all been the cost for something of greater benefit to him. Something he doesn’t exactly mind draining his energy for.

Bur your odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird schemes are not a part of the list of things he’s willing to sacrifice his energy for. There isn’t much pleasure in entertaining your nonsense most of the time.

If anything, there’s pain—the stinging bite marks on his skin can attest to that.)

“I’m not tired,” you hum.

“Then let me make you tired,” he offers smugly, lips tugging into a cocky grin as he looks up at you.

“If you didn’t manage that the first time, what makes you think that’ll work the second?” You tease.

He doesn’t seem to like that very much, because with a growl, he pushes the back of your neck until your face falls into the crook of his neck, a strong, bulky arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place against his body.

It’d be awfully intimate, and awfully sweet if he didn’t mumble, “I love when you sleep because it’s the only few hours of the day I get to hear you shut the fuck up.”

“Maybe if you’d just appreciated my fun fact—”

“You bit my fucking nipple.”

“I could bite the other one, too, if you want,” you pipe up with an excited grin. He can feel it pressed against his skin as your face buries deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Sukuna is tired. Most of the time, it’s because of you. All of the time, he chooses to allow it because he likes having you around for a good fuck.

(And, of course, there’s all that bullshit about love and affection, too. But that’s just that odd stuff you like to babble about—that odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird emotional part of you that somehow ropes him into being the same way every once in a while.

He doesn’t like it.)

“You need a lobotomy,” he mutters, wincing when you bite the skin of his neck in response. Not in a manner he likes, either—very much in a manner that makes sure he feels the sharpness of your incisors.

“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “I’m biologically meant to be your predator.”

“You biologically give me fuckin’ migraines.”

You grin—it’s a smile that’s easy. Smooth. Maybe a little giddy, too. It comes out only around Sukuna. Him and his gruff, rugged way of accepting your affection, and his double as rough and crude way of giving it back. His callused hands and toughened knuckles that brush along your cheeks carefully. His crass and undignified words that are carefully thought out enough to never cross the line. His downturned lips and narrowed eyes that only ever soften at the sharp corners around you.

“Next time, I’ll eat you for sure,” you murmur, settling against his chest and getting comfortable. He wraps both arms around you, warm and tight enough that you almost think you can forgo the blanket altogether. “Assert my dominance.”

“You can’t even open the pickle jar.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s only a matter of time until natural selection gets you,” he snickers quietly. You huff, biting back a smile as he yawns.

Gently, with a kiss over the bite mark you left against his neck, you say softly, “goodnight. Love you.”

“Night.”

“I love you.”

“For the love of—love you too, holy fuck. Go to sleep.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

gold ring

words: 1.3k

warnings: brief suspicion of cheating, established relationship, soft!rafe, proposal, fluffy

“rafe!” you groan out, tired of hearing his phone constantly dinging for the past ten minutes. 

when rafe doesn't answer, you slap your laptop closed, frown on your face as you head up the stairs, muttering to yourself about him interrupting your work that he KNOWS is important.

“rafe!” you shout, entering his bedroom. you can finally hear the spray of the shower, explaining why he was letting his phone go off.

you grab it from his bedside table, yanking the charger free as you go to silence it, but upon trying to stop the dinging, you skim over the notifications.

you don't believe it at first. it must be some kind of mistake, you're sure.

you click on the name of rafes ex girlfriend, opening up the text message thread.

rafe: when can we meet?

ex: whenever works for you 🥺

ex: i miss you a lot btw

ex: this friday at 6pm? we can meet at the country club like we always used to. maybe get dinner? can't wait to see you xxx

you frown at the messages, quickly locking the phone and setting it down when you hear the shower turn off.

rafe steps out with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“hey princess.” he smiles. “how's the essay going?”

“fine.” your tone is cold, surprising rafe. “your phone was ringing so i silenced it.”

you walk out of the room without another word, needing to return to your homework, but when you sit back down at what has become your desk, you can't concentrate on the words on the screen, your anger bubbling over.

you want to confront rafe, but you need time to breathe otherwise the entire conversation will be unintelligible as you simply sob.

you head upstairs, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder as rafe emerges from the closet, fully dressed.

“where you going babe? got study group?” he questions, glancing at the clock on the wall, realizing there's no way study group would be meeting this late.

“going home.” you mumble, making sure everything you usually leave at rafes is stuffed in your bag.

“you are home?” rafe questions, his expression turning sad when he sees you're not joking.

“no, im not rafe.” you sigh. “i want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

truth is, you've practically moved into tanneyhill since you started dating rafe, but technically you still live at your parents house, only a few doors down from rafes.

“is everything alright?” rafe asks, trying to reach out for you. “what did i do wrong?”

you can't help it anymore, his obvious disrespect for your relationship, something you put years of work into only for him to go back to his ex girlfriend.

“how about you ask your ex?” you question, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“my ex? what are you talking about?” rafe asks, again trying to hold you by your shoulders, but you take a step back before his palms can land on you.

rafe: ive asked you a million times to give that ring back. you never should have taken it in the first place. it was my grandmother's and now it belongs to y/n, not you.

“i saw your texts, rafe. when can we meet? are you fucking kidding me!?” you shout the last sentence.

“baby, wait.” he says softly, grabbing his phone. he opens up the messages, scrolling up so you can see the full context.

ex: i don't know where it is 

rafe: bullshit. give it back or ill call the cops

ex: fine. 

rafe: when can we meet?

“see, baby?” rafe places a soft hand on your shoulder. “i was just trying to get my shit back. i have no interest in my ex at all. i love you.”

“oh, rafe!” you coo out, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “im so sorry i doubted you.”

“it's okay, id also be pissed if you were texting your ex. i didn't tell you just because i wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“keep what a surprise?” you furrow your brows together.

“what do you?- ohhh.” rafe finally catches on, letting out a chuckle. “i see what you're doing.”

you giggle, rising to your tiptoes to press a kiss to rafes soft lips. 

“now let's get back to work on that essay, yeah?” rafe says. “i can help you.”

“and what do you know about microbiology that could possibly help me?” you snicker.

rafe rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, but i can at least be there for moral support.”

--

you've been expecting it for months now, wondering when rafe will pop the question. you know he got the ring back, and while he's taken you on romantic dates and moonlit walks on the beach, you're not sure when he will actually drop to one knee.

“what are you thinking for your nails this week?” your girlfriend asks.

originally, you were doing all white and plain, but recently for summer you've been branching out to bright colors again.

“why, is there a certain color i should get?” you raise your eyebrow at her. 

“well i was gonna get a sparkly white, maybe we could match.” she shrugs. it's no discredit to your friend, but her acting isn't good enough to fool you, and you're sure that rafe asked her to make sure you get something appropriate and properly bridal.

you of course get simple nails that you hope will compliment a silver ring on your finger.

you look at the calendar hanging on the wall, reading through your events for the upcoming week, trying to figure out when rafe may ask the question.

you ultimately give up on trying to figure it out as you head further into the house, calling out for rafe. 

“baby? where are you?” you shout, surprised when you don't get a response. you head up to your bedroom, figuring he must be in the shower, but the bathroom door is wide open when you enter.

you almost miss it, so set on finding rafe, but the dress laying on the edge of the bed ends up catching your attention.

put this on and meet me outside.

you recognize rafes handwriting instantly. you set the paper to the side and look at the dress. its a soft light pink material, nearly white.

you are quick to undress and put on the flowy dress, admiring yourself in the mirror before touching up your hair and makeup next. rafe knows how you like to prepare for big events in your life.

your steps are slow, or at least you attempt to keep them slow, as you want to cherish this moment. your eyes light up with the glow of the backyard, string lights hanging from every tree, and on the edge of the sand, is rafe.

“oh.” you cover your mouth, feeling tears well up in your eyes. this has to be the moment. you run to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he spins you.

“baby, i haven’t even asked yet.” rafe chuckles, setting you down.

“and i’m already saying yes.” you giggle, although it’s no secret to rafe what your answer would be.

“still-” rafe places his hands on your hips, stilling you before he drops down onto one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket. he flips open the lid to reveal the most stunning ring you’ve ever seen, it’s exactly what you envisioned and somehow so much more.

“you’ve made me happier than i ever thought possible. you fixed all my broken pieces and made me whole again. there’s no one else i’d rather spend forever with.”

rafe looks up at you, tears brimming in his eyes, overwhelmed with the emotion of the moment. “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you squeal, falling to your knees alongside rafe and pressing your lips against his. “yes, yes. a million times yes.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[lovegasmic]

──── . THE ONE WHO FELL FIRST, AND THE ONE WHO FELL HARDER ; SUKUNA × F!READER.

꒰ request : Sukuna is a popular businessman, nice to everyone but you, thinking you managed to plot everything to marry him. the wrong accusations only cause him to have conflicted emotions and unable to admit he's falling for you ꒱.

 𝜗𝜚 modern au ◞ angst to fluff / slow burn◞ forced marriage◞ reader is a business student and also comes from a slightly rich family◞ req from around august im so sorry ◞ 3K WORDS BABEY ★ taglist

wasting precious time in such a banal thing like your feelings, was something Sukuna was not willing to do.

time was money, and he knew you liked the latter, or else why would you even consider marrying him?

the deal was not yours or Sukuna’s idea, of course it had to be a dumb old man with equal old beliefs like “a man your age must be already married and stable” bullshit, Sukuna had enough wealth and health to be worrying about not finding a wife or getting onto procreating an heir.

but for the pink haired man, his investors were more important than his own family, so, he agreed.

and of course, one of them happened to be your own father.

the man was not stupid, with that hand rubbing and gruff voice while luring Sukuna into considering a marriage that would benefit both parties, almost like a leach attached to the pink haired by the hip until he gave in.

Sukuna knew you, of course he did, the pretty girl who tried to mingle in those boring business parties that were nothing but a place to brag about each one of their successful companies.

and you always were there, listening, almost as if testing who could be a suiting partner, the richest the better.

for him, you were just another money grubber on the list, truly a pretty girl like you must have thousands of suitors knocking on your door, yet you subtly but excitedly agreed on the deal, eyes almost shinning as if you were already imagining Sukuna’s millions in the bank

he scoffs at the thought, his idiotic self had to fall, didn’t he? right into the trap.

the champagne is a tad bitter due to the circumstances, the golden beverage that usually slid down his throat quite smoothly was now dry, leaving a gross aftertaste, perhaps the champagne was not the issue, but this whole fucked up lie.

hands clasped and congratulations were given, each one welcomed by a polite and quite charming smile from Sukuna, as if he was genuinely happy, although you knew otherwise.

the man was so kind, a bit stuck up like most businessmen, but that did not stop him from chit chatting with friends and other people in the business, asking about their families and such, to which you observed with a smile, genuinely happy to be found in a marriage with at least a decent man.

but when his attention turned to you, he was a whole new person, that smile fading and sticking to a stone cold mask that always stuck when speaking to you, solely to you.

“Sukuna—” you try, shoes clicking on the luxury wooden floor of his mansion, where you now resided as well, there was no honeymoon as you, —naively, expected, almost bouncing on your spot as the limousine drove away from the wedding reception, perhaps the cute lingerie set you got underneath will be useful.

but no, how your heart crushed upon the sight of the mansion, nor a helicopter or private jet to take you to some sort of fancy and private spot. instead, all you got was silent as Sukuna climbed off the car, already loosening his tie as soon as the butler opened the door, your hurried steps behind and the limo’s trunk filled with your belongings.

“let the butler show you your room” is what he interrupts with, the suit jacket tossed onto a nearby couch which a maid was quick to fold, almost making your face burn in embarrassment at your husband’s dismissal in front of other people.

you stop for a second, blinking confused before following him still, “my room? what do you mean with my room? aren’t we sleeping in the same bedroom?”

how naive, and Sukuna’s scoff followed by a cruel laugh is just adding onto your embarrassment, “i don’t believe so, sweetheart” that last word sounds so cruel right now, “you already got the fame and money you wanted, i’m not going to indulge your spoiled princess whims” 

the door slams shut and you freeze, unsure about what just happened.

the first night was unnecessarily cold, the lingerie forgotten in an empty drawer and the luggage you brought from home all stacked up in a corner of the wide room, everything lacked of color, of life, there was no wall decors, white sheets and comforters, beige curtains against boring beige walls, and of course, the warmth of the man you have longed for so long was missing.

deciding to blame the wedding nerves on Sukuna’s foul mood from the day before, making the bed and opening the curtains to allow the gentle breeze in from a barely open window that had a perfect view to the perfect backyard garden and pool.

the day was beautiful, and so you joined the chef to chat a little meanwhile Sukuna came downstairs with a serious expression like the day before, “good morning” is all he says before sitting down on the dining table, not sparing you another glance or waiting for you to sit as well as he already began on his breakfast.

“good morning, did you sleep well?” you try, again, and fail, again, since Sukuna doesn’t even reply, wiping his lips with a smooth movement that your eyes longer on, “the room you gave me is quite nice” your brain begs you to stop talking, “i just thought it’s a bit too dull, don’t you agree?”

“...” 

“maybe we can buy some decorations, or if you’re too busy I can do it on my own!”

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

you blink, once, twice, “excuse me?”

“nothing” he stands up, the chair dragging on the ground and a napkin left on the emoji plate, “i have business to attend to, don’t bother me” with a thank you to the chef, Sukuna leaves again towards what you think must be his home office.

what you don’t know is the fact that Sukuna double checks all of his credit cards to be in place, muttering a “that damn gold digger woman”

life with Sukuna was not going to be as quiet and calm as you thought, almost two days later after your first night at your new home, Sukuna brought in the news of some charity ball you ‘had’ to attend to, of course, a place to show around how your marriage was perfectly fine, how he was stable like those dumb old men said, but at least, the appearance of a married man will definitely be successful for future partnerships.

with a mental slap, the pink haired man turned on his spot as soon as you walked down the stairs, looking ethereal with the dress he got you under the threat of “not wanting you to embarrass him” a longer look and he would have probably said something nice, and you did not deserve it.

“let’s go” he says gruff, not even opening the Benz door for you to climb in, but you did not mind, you were not really expecting anything from him anymore.

“you look good” is what you say instead, and his hands clench a little around the wheel, keeping his eyes ahead without a response.

for a second you wondered if Sukuna had some sort of double personality, he was cold and serious to you, but as soon as you stepped into the gala, his hand tightened on your waist, and a kind and even soft smile plastered on his face while greeting the other guests.

your parents were there, and your husband simply rolled his eyes at the sight of your father sporting a self praising smile at the sight of your fancy attire and multiple diamond jewels decorating your neck, wrist and fingers. 

unable to deny how well you behaved yourself, and so as the hours passed, his thumb unconsciously began to rub up and down on your waist, chatting with a casual and soft look that made your heart skip a beat. this was the man you fell in love with.

a little too good to be truth, since as soon as you got back home, the usual stoic Sukuna came back, “perhaps you’re not as useless as I thought”

that should not have hurt as much as it did, you were already used to Sukuna’s dismissals, to his mean comments about wanting to suck his money like some sort of leech, about how you should stick to your own business and stop pestering him, but that really hurt.

so this time, it’s you who turns and leaves. 

a little shaky sigh leaves his lips, splashing cold water onto his face to ease the strange thoughts inside his head, was he too mean? that can’t be, you deserve it, you were nothing but a gold digger, a walking… temptation.

“fuck…” he grips the bathroom sink until his knuckles turn white, the previous night kept repeating on his head, over and over again, the look on your eyes, his harsh words and the way you left without a word, why did his heart was thumping so hard?

with another curse he leaves his room, grumbling and sliding his fingers through his hair to comb it back, just to stand frozen on his spot at the sight of you all dressed and holding a bag on your shoulder, “where are you going?” the words leave before he can stop them.

the look on your eyes is a bit duller than usual and that hurts bad, “to school” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“what—” 

“i’m running late, we’ll talk later” and you leave just like that, leaving Sukuna with a frown and a look of disbelief that pushes the previous guilt to the back of his head.

“this damn brat”

although it was barely a week after your wedding, the whole attention his employees have you was, overwhelming, with big smiles and attentions showered as soon as you stepped into the fancy building, swinging your bag over your shoulder as a lovely, and way too cheerful, —probably fake, woman guided you to the elevator, explaining which floor to take to meet your husband.

you scoff inwardly, you’ve been to this building multiple times in the past, although just as a shadow, as a nobody, now that the boss was your husband everything was awfully over the top.

“sit, and explain” straight to the point, how kind was your husband.

with a sigh and a click of the door you sit on the chair opposite to his desk, “i told you I was going to school”

“what does that even fucking mean? are you a teacher? student? I truly hope you don’t mean highschool or i’m sending you to jail”

“what the…, no, of course not, I mean university, ugh”

“that’s better” his shoulders relax back but his eyes are still narrowed and hands in front of him, it was a bit funny, “explain”

“you really don’t know anything, do you?” you lean back and hum, “i’m at two semesters from getting my business degree” 

“why haven’t you told me?”

“you never asked” you swear Sukuna’s eye twitches slightly.

“from now on I don’t want you to keep secrets from me, you’re my wife, I must know”

“oh, so i’m your wife now?”

another twitch, “you are my wife, whether we like it or not”

whether we like it or not. those words kept replaying, you liked it, or at least that is what you thought before. 

your younger self would have been giggling and kicking her feet at the sole thought of marrying Sukuna, the man you admired and observed from afar when you were still a bit too young to approach him, barely out of highschool and your inner self longed for the man, saving his pictures on your phone and setting it as screensaver.

how ridiculous, you now thought, closing the first magazine you bought and sliding it under your pillow, the one that, of course, had Sukuna on the cover, and the one that inspired you to follow his path and get into business school.

fairy tales were now ridiculous, what you thought could be a perfect life with the man of your dreams turned into morning and goodnight greetings alongside some forced chats and questions about whereabouts.

but instead of sulking, you did what was best, shop.

the sudden sound of voices outside brought Sukuna from his thoughts and piles of paperwork, immediately standing up to step into the living room, only to be greeted by the sight of multiple men carrying boxes inside the house, “what the fuck is all this?” he asks with a low and almost scary tone, one to which you’ve grown used to.

“decoration for the house, I told you I was going to buy it” you reply nonchalant, and Sukuna couldn’t deny the way you look kinda cute with that rolled up sleeves shirt and overalls, like damn bob the builder.

unconsciously Sukuna taps his back pocket, checking his wallet, “i mean, with what money you got all this?”

“huh? with mine, obviously” 

“your what?”

“what? did you seriously think I lived from your money? please, I am very dependable, thank you very much” you scoff with a frown, Sukuna did not had to know the many business you invested in with a capital from your father, which you obviously paid back and now the percentages of profit in said business just kept increasing to your good luck.

“i didn’t mean—” no, he totally did mean to imply you are a gold digger, but now… with this, things were a bit different.

he scratches his cheek, standing next to you with his towering form as you observe the boxes getting placed into the living room, yet the pink haired’s eyes remain on your side, on the way your brows are knitted in annoyance and the soft cute pout on your mouth.

you mess with his head, and now with his house, wonderful.

so ask him why he’s unpacking boxes and moving the few paintings you bought according to your commands, “up, up, a little to the right, a little more, there, perfect!” you beam and climb onto the stool to hammer a nail into the wall and allow Sukuna to hang the painting. 

the maids, the butler are all gone under Sukuna’s order, and most likely gossiping over the development of the couple’s relationship.

“i should sue you for making me work unpaid” for the first time, Sukuna teases, slumped on the couch with his shirt a bit unbuttoned and his eyes locked on the way you placed a few cat like ceramics near the chimney, under the large picture frame of your wedding.

“you are soooo exaggerated” you roll your eyes with a little chuckle, “you won’t die from a little bit of hand work” 

“maybe not, but my hands will get calloused because of you”

“oh, i’m sorry i’m messing with your princess hands, I will give you my creams if that makes you happy”

his smirk widens, “hey, the only princess here is you” 

it really is the little details, month after month, and you notice how his behavior is slowly improving, he is no longer mean or cold, nor he leaves you speaking to yourself anymore, surprisingly he joins you on the couch now, with an arm around the back of it and over your head, yet sometimes you feel his fingers playing with the hair at the top of your head.

he is smiling, big and happy with a package under his arm, he remembers when you bought items for the house, but the floral silky set of sheets you wanted ran out of stock before you could get it, and the defeated look on your face haven’t left since.

he is a good husband, the best husband you could ask for!

“wait” where did that thought even came from?, and why was his face slightly hot, shit, shit.

never mind, he keeps mumbling to himself, hurrying to your bedroom before you arrive from your classes and is quick to undo your bed to change it into the cute sheets set.

but as he is hasty tugging the fabric, something comes flying from under your pillow.

he kneels to grab it, and his face just shows shock at the sight of it, he remembers that too well, the first magazine cover he ever did, his most proud moment and you had a copy, all those years, and so he turns the pages until it lands on the column, there's stickers and pink pen scribbles around, some words highlighted and even one or two hearts drawn around.

the pen ink was slightly worn out as if it was written years ago, and the idea makes his heart clench.

“... got some from the store, where are yo—” you both stand frozen, eyes on each other and the mess of sheets, fuck the surprise, “what are you doing?” your heart drops at the sight of Sukuna’s awestruck expression while holding the magazine open, “t-that’s personal, you know?”

“i- know, I should not have but…, when did you write this?”

how unavoidable was the conversation, “like two years ago” your gaze drifts to a side.

“did you… were you in love with me or something?” he gulps.

what was the point of denying it anymore, so you nod.

“where you or… are you?” and you softly nod again, avoiding his gaze.

“fuck” he mutters, sliding a hand through his hair in frustration, “fuck, i’m sorry”

“huh? what—”

for the second time you can’t finish a sentence before Sukuna is stomping to you, an arm around your waist and the other on your cheek before your lips clash together, it’s tender but also raw and needy.

“i’m sorry, i should have never been so rude to you, I was an idiot and thought you just wanted my money” even after the kiss he does not let you go.

“what? but I never asked for a penny”

“i know” he says even a tad frustrated, “i know, i should have trusted you”

“it’s okay, I mean, I would also be suspicious of someone who suddenly agreed to marry me without even knowing each other”

“but still…” he is still not letting you downplay the situation and his part of blame.

“Kuna, I promise it’s okay” you smile just like you always do that makes his heart melt, “i love you, and that’s all it matters”

a soft sigh leaves him, sliding a palm over your cheek, and suddenly the ring on his finger is just the perfect color that contrast your skin, “yeah, I love you too”

additional part of Sukuna finding the lingerie lmao

[petew21-blog]

Homophobic gym teacher

I hate PE. I hate it so freaking much that I’d rather have history with Mr. Douglas every day than to run in front of Mr. Mills every day. He hates me, ever since I came out as gay at school I received mostly good feedback from others. Even my bullies were kinda nice about it. Thank God I live in the twenty first century. But one person didn’t really take It well.

I browsed through his instagram a few times. And while I looked for the perfect photo of him flexing his biceps, showing his abs or anything that would help me for my jerk off session, I found out that he was quite hardcore republican. How a person like this could get into education is beyond me.

As always I finished jerking off while looking at his regular bathroom gym photo. Man, what I would give to fuck him. Why do jerks always have the perfect body?

My phone buzzed. I snapped back into reality. Jack, my friend who is also gay, but not out yet, texted me.

“Hey, are we gonna ditch school tomorrow? I can’t hear any more of that Mills bullshit while we climb the rope”

“We’re gonna be rope climbing? Ah fuck me. He’s gonna be insufferable.”

“My thoughts exactly. So? Are we skipping school?”

“I can’t man. I gotta keep up my attendance after missing so many days thanks to Mr. Mills”

Next day, 2:29 PM

I stood next to the rope, waiting for Jake to finish his turn. Mr. Mills stood below him, screaming. Jake couldn’t get to the top. Mr. Mills told him to get down and screamed at him some more. What an asshole. It was my turn. The bell rang. “Fuck yeah. No more rope climbing for me.” My classmates, me included, turned to head to the lockers.

Mr. Mills: ”González? Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Me: ”Sir, the class is over and it’s Friday.”

Mr. Mills: ”The class is over when I say it is over. Get on the fucking rope and stop talking back at me. The rest of you can leave.”

I got close to the rope. I grabbed it and squeezed the rope between my feet. I started pulling myself up and immediately felt the pain of lifting myself. I knew I was weak, I didn’t really need some wannabe teacher slash gym freak to remind me and scream at me what a lazy piece of shit I am. I tried to ignore him. I gave myself a goal to just finish it and leave, but Mr. Mills stood directly below me to comment on my fat ass slowing me down.

I was almost at the top, a wave of happiness swept over me. “Shit, I’m gonna make it!”

And right then I slipped. And instead of locking my feet, I just let go off the rope.

THUD

“I survived. Fuck. I fell from the freaking rope. My head was hurting so hard. My head? But I thought that I fell on my back? Ahhh the pain.”

I opened my eyes. My vision was blurry from the fall. I tried blinking several times and my vision was slowly getting better. I lifted my arm to grab on my head, but as I did it didn’t feel right. I looked at my arm. It was bigger. As in full of muscles.

“What the hell?” I said out loud, but instead of my young squeaky almost too feminine voice a low baritone came out of my throat.

“How the fuck…?!” I looked to my left. There was my body getting up from the ground

Me: ”Mr. Mills?”

Mr. Mills: ”Ah you gotta be fucking kidding me?! Is that you González?”

Me: ”I… Yes. How… How did this happen?” Mr. Mills: ”Does it look like this happens to me a lot?”

Me: ”But… it’s scientifically impossible”

Mr. Mills: ”I bet this was caused by those covid vaccines to make you immigrant fags take over our lives.”

Me: ”Yeah… right. Cause everyone wants to be a stupid republican”

Mr. Mills: ”Shut your mouth or…” he was interrupted by the janitor telling us to leave so he can lock the school. Mr. Mills gave me his car keys and I gave him instructions how to find my locker. We decided to meet each other in his car and to figure out what to do after that.”

After many unsuccessful attempts I found his Chevrolet and entered the passenger’s seat. Few moments later, I realized that I’m gonna be the one driving so I switched seats and got behind the wheel for the first time in my life. His car was amazing, it smelt great and was clean. How should I even drive this thing? I don’t drive a car. I’ll get us into trouble.

I stopped overthinking about the car. “I am in my teachers body. The one who bullied me almost every day. I am an adult male.” I looked into the rearview mirror. “Fuck, I am in one of the hottest man’s body around. And I am wasting it just worrying here. I flexed and squeezed my new biceps. Fuuuck. It’s so huge. I checked if no one else was around and lifted up my shirt.

“Oh my gooood” I slammed my head into the seat. “This is so hot!”

My new abs and pecs now uncovered were the most perfect ones I have ever seen. The ones I jerk off to every night before sleep. And now it’s here. All for me.

I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Mills in my body approaching the car. And behind him ran Jake. They entered the car.

I tried to improvise: „Why is your friend here?”

Jake: „Holy shit. So it is true. Mr. Mills would never react so calm. Is that really you in there, Daniel?”

I turned at Mr. Mills who now had a very irritated face. “I didn’t say anything, he figured it out.”

Jake: „I didn’t believe it at first, but Daniel never swears like this. And your vocabulary isn’t exactly rich so I knew really quickly where I heard the phrases before. Damn, I’m good. So? What are we gonna do? We should test it out somehow. Shit, Daniel you should get drunk tonight!”

Mr. Mills: „No! There won’t be no drinking, touching or anything with my body. This is definitely temporary and we will be back by tomorrow morning.”

Me: „If you think so…”

I drove Jake and my body home. Mr. Mills had to give me a speed course of driving, but his muscle memory helped me out way more than I thought. We set up some ground rules. No drinking, no drugs, no permanent changes to our bodies, no photos and no sex. He left the car while saying something about a fag in his body, but I couldn’t care less anymore. I speeded to get to his house asap.

I didn’t really explore the house as much when I arrived. I went straight to where I thought was the bedroom and immediately started taking off my clothes. His black speedo was PACKING and getting tighter every minute, but I really wanted to make this first exploration as perfect as possible. I lifted up the shirt, touching my new hairless and fatless stomach. I flexed and sets of abs appeared. I touched every last one of them. My hand continued up to my new large pecs.

“God damn, Mr. Mills. These are some perfect man titties.” I squeezed them. They looked so tight in all the photos, but when I wasn’t flexing them, they were quite soft. Must be amazing to lay on these. I played with them some more before taking off my shirt and releasing my new hairy pits. I took a long whiff off them. “I smell like a proper MAN now!” I licked it as well, enjoying the salty taste of Mr. Mills’s pits. I looked at myself in the mirror. My new dick was hard as a rock and waited for me to take care of it.

I headed to the shower and turned on a hot water. “Your body is probably not used to a hot water, am I right, Mr. Mills? I bet you are one of those cold water freaks who bathe in the icy waters.” I hated his voice before, but right now as I was controlling it, I began to like it so much.

The water poured all over my large body, from the perfect face, over my massive pecs, hairless abs and right to my beautiful dick. “Nice dick, Mr. Mills!” I said and chuckled over the fact that I just said that.

I suddenly got a mischievous idea. I came out of the shower and texted Jake.

Jake: „I can’t believe I’m doing this. I am just squeezing Mr. Mills’s pecs and touching his abs. Can you believe it, Daniel?”

Me: „It’s wild, right? But I got an idea. Wanna make it more interesting?”

Jake: „Interesting how?”

Me: „Stop touching me you lazy fag” I said in an authoritative voice and Jake moved his hands away from me quickly.

Jake: „Why did you do that? I got scared.”

Me: „I bet you are scared, you little fag. I know you just came over so that you could jerk off you little dick and watch me enjoy myself.”

Jake: „Daniel?”

Me: „Daniel won’t save you right now. You will do as I say. Ok?”

Jake finally caught up to my roleplay scenario and started acting as well. And by the look of his face I knew that he was really into it.

Jake: „Yes, Mr. Mills. I will do whatever you say.”

I sat down on the couch watching. “I want you to admire my body and say how hot I am and how horny it makes you.”

Jake got his hands on MY body and got a bit nervous: „You have sexy abs, Mr. Mills.”

Me: „You think that’s enough? That they are just sexy?”

Jake: „I think they’re the hottest abs I have ever seen”

Me: „How about my biceps. You like them?”

Jake: „They are SO big. I want you to squeeze my head in them. I want to lick your armpit hair. I want to kiss you.”

Me: „That’s a good boy. How about you show me how good you are, you fag?”

I moved his hands over to my new hard crotch.

Jake smiled and licked his lips

I fucking love being in this body.

And I bet Jake’s ass is gonna love this body even more.

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

-

part five

[thinkinonsense]

forgive if it’s a bit scatterbrained but hear me out… some sort of reverse corruption w old man!logan >///< i just feel like he won’t be the type of guy who’d immediately be into having a thing w young!reader. i feel like he won’t even take it seriously at first or there’s def gonna be more resistance from him, he’d probably feel initially repulsed by the idea of even beginning to think of them that way given how young they are. but reader is bold bold, so they’re gonna keep pushing and pushing until they’ve got him where they want him. but even if she’s practically sinking down on him, logan is still probably gonna be like “fuck’s wrong with you, huh? old enough to be your fucking grandfather, kid. c’mon, you don’t really want this.”

poor old man’s just too decent for his own good :(

old man!logan x young bold fem!reader *mdni

logan couldn't stand you. how young and ambitious you were; how you couldn't just take no as a fuckin' answer. you thought it was cute but logan found it rather obnoxious. you were persistent with your attraction towards the older man; frequenting the only bar in town that logan was still welcomed in.

"what are we drinking tonight, lo?" your voice was a siren song that he wished he could turn off.

"whiskey." he mumbles against the glass.

the mean glare he sent your way would've made anyone else run in fear, but not you. instead smiling up at him with bambi eyes. at first, logan thought you were just dumb, not picking up on his signals but as it turned out, you're just stubborn.

every friday night, you sat on the stool next to him. you should've been flirting with guys your age by the pool table but no, you would rather get rejected by the old man who drinks alone. at one point even the bartenders started to think that you two were together which logan quickly shut down.

"c'mon, at least let me pretend that i'm yours," you whine, swirling around your second fruity drink tonight.

"you don't want to 'be mine', kid," he said in a stern voice, similar to one you would use on a child who won't behave.

"aaand...why not?" you ask him, crossing your arms and already getting pissy. "don't gimme that bullshit about you being 'too old' either."

"has anyone ever told you that you're-"

"pretty? hilarious? tight? yeah, a few times actually."

logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. he tries to give you some sympathy but there's only so many times that you can burn your hand on the stove until you learn your lesson.

"look, cherry..." logan sets his glass down. you adored when he called you, cherry because that meant he was paying attention to you and what you drank, always having to top it off with a cherry. "i'm probably your grandfather's age-"

"don't care." you interrupt him, leaning forward to stare into his eyes and run a hand through his hair. "your grey hair is so hot, lo. should let me pull on it sometime."

logan was finding it more difficult to resist you. almost letting out a groan when you pull slightly. logan could smell your arousal forming; clouding his vision.

"why don't you throw your panties in someone else's direction, huh? i'm sure those boys over there wouldn't mind." logan snarls, getting fed up with your attitude.

it wasn't that he didn't find you attractive, quite the opposite really. maybe if he was younger or you were older then he wouldn't mind your flirty personality so much but that's not the way that the world works. logan is -whether or not he wants to admit it- old and he didn't have time to put up with your whiney shit.

"okay." you shrug, getting up from the barstool.

logan doesn't believe that you'll actually go talk to those boys. in one minute your ass will be back here annoying him. he was sure of it.

then ten minutes passed and giggles were still falling from your lips. nothing the guys said was actually funny but you played it up to look better. there was one guy who you actually didn't mind talking to; both of you went to the same college and shared the same major. for a second, you'd completely forgotten about the man burning holes into your side.

the two of you talked for a while, exchanging stories while you leaned against the pool table in your tiny cut-off shorts. logan watched those boys gawk at you; staring everywhere but your face.

"i know right! her class was horrible! all she did was-" your words fell short when someone grabbed your upper arm, attempting to pull you away from the guy, who you think his name was josh, or john, or jake? you couldn't really remember and you definitely didn't care.

"c'mon kid, i'll give you a ride home." logan growled in your ear.

"oh, it's okay!" you chirp like a little bird at him. "think i'll find another way home tonight."

it's just a facade, logan told himself. you were just trying to prove a point. always stubborn.

"i'm not messing 'round, kid-"

"leave her alone, old man." the kid interrupted, giving logan a push.

logan snarls, about to teach this boy a lesson but you are faster; heel-kicking him in the nuts. the boy hunched over, allowing you to be ear level with him.

"fuck off." you spit, angrily before walking away.

logan looked at you completely dumbfounded. he had no other choice than to follow you blindly outside of the bar. he found you leaning against his truck; under the dim street light, logan would've misplaced you for some angelic figure.

"mind takin' me home, lo?" you ask him, for once not acting like some horny little rabbit towards him.

he nods, fishing out his keys. you give him directions to your apartment. the silence in the car makes you think logan's mad at you for real this time. you pushed it too far, embarrassing him and yourself this time. logan wasn't this dirty old perv who would actually give you the time of day, and maybe it was time for you to face that reality.

"i just wanted to say sorry for everything." your voice is low and quiet. afraid logan won't even acknowledge you. "i know that i should've left you alone a long time ago. you wouldn't want someone like me anyway-"

the car came to a dead halt in the driveway. logan turns to face you and you fear the worst; afraid he will yell at you.

"do you seriously think i wouldn't want you?" he asks. "you haven't left my mind since the day we bumped into each other at the bar and i spilled my whisky down your shirt. remember that, cherry?"

you nod, carefully. that day was imprinted in your mind. your friends and you were celebrating your birthday when logan bumped into you at the bar on accident. he frantically apologized for ruining your white shirt which you suggested for him to lick you clean. it had been so long since someone had flirted with him that he didn't know how to react.

"i'd never seen someone look so pretty and sticky at the same time." logan's hand gently caresses your cheek.

"could've seen it more often if you had fucked me like i wish you would've." the words fall out without pressure, making logan smirk. no matter how much you tried, you were desperate for him.

"you've got one dirty fuckin' mouth, cherry."

"it gets dirtier than that."

"hmm... don't know if that's possible."

"i could show you if you like."

the offer hangs hot in the truck. logan leans back into his seat, asking for forgiveness on what he's about to do. three light taps on his thigh and you crawl right into it.

"atta fuckin' girl, cherry." he groans as you grind against his crotch and bite on his neck.

"also for the record, the only person i want to have my panties is you, logan." you purred in his ear, referring back to your earlier conversation at the bar.

"i know, sweetheart. i know." he chuckles, watching you kick off your shorts and underwear.

once your back in his lap, you unbuckle his belt and wait eagerly for him to have his way with you. yet, logan doesn't offer anything.

"if you want to fuck an old man like me then you need to get used to doin' all the work, cherry." he says, half-joking. "can't keep up with an eager little thing like you."

you knew his game. to scare you off by acting like an asshole but you didn't mind doing the work to get what you want.

"fine with me." you smile, hands inching towards the glasses that hang on his button-down. "can't forget these, want you to see what you do to me."

logan groaned when you pulled him out of his pants, pumping him a few times before aligning him to your entrance. he was a bit bigger than you would've guessed, only making you wetter. just as you are about to sink down onto him, logan stops you, holding your hips in the air.

"fuck's wrong with you, cherry? you still want this, huh?" he taunts you, only getting a whine from you in response. "such a desperate little thing."

"p-p-please, logan." your hips wiggle against his tight grip. "want you... need you."

without another word, he lowers you down onto his length. both of you moan at the adjustment. your nails claw at logan's shoulders and you feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.

"happy now?" logan groaned, watching you bounce up and down on your own. his hands stayed on your waist, squeezing at the fat of your hips. "got what you fuckin' wanted."

"mhm..." you nod along dumbly agreeing to whatever he says. too busy trying to get his white button-down off of him. frustrated, you break open all the buttons.

once his chest was exposed, you litter it with kisses and dark bruises. for the first time, logan was happy that his healing abilities were slowing down so now he can admire your artwork longer. you grab both of his giant palms bringing one hand to your chest and taking the other thumb into your mouth, licking the pad of it before moving it down to your clit. tracing circles in a way that made your head fall back with your mouth wide open.

"do you always get this wet for older men or is it just for me, sweetheart?" logan asked, fist full of your hair.

"j-just you, lo..." you gasp.

logan's lips found your jaw, kissing up to your chin before capturing your lips. he wasn't a fan of fruity drinks but he loved the taste they left in your mouth. your backs against the wheel lazily and logan can tell that your orgasm is approaching.

"don't give up now, cherry." he teased. "you were doing so good, being a perfect little slut in my lap. what happened to her?"

you were too fucked out to say anything back and he knew it. logan finally took pity on you and started pistoling into you, listening to every pretty curse word that fell from your trembling lips.

"where do you want me, sweetheart?" logan grunts in your ear, pulling at the lobe as you come down from your high.

"inside, please."

that's all logan needed to hear to spill inside of you. the warmth indescribably flooded you. the two of you collapse in each other's arms, collecting yourself for a few minutes.

"told you, i'm a good fuck." you told him, looking up at him with messy hair and an unapologetic smile.

"didn't doubt you," he says, mirroring your smile as he moves some pieces of hair from your forehead. maybe logan could see you being a permanent person in his life.

"and to think..." your words drift off as you start to move again, feeling him get hard again inside of you. "we are just getting started."

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

I Can Help With That ;)

After months of no sex and a now insatiable hunger to get fucked, your best friend Billie offers to help you out.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

you were laying on billie’s couch, legs draped across her as you continued on listening to her crazy ass story of her most recent hookup. You two have a friendship that allows for nothing to be kept secret. Every thought, every memory, every story, and every moment is shared with each other. So, listening to her go on and on about how happy she was to be munching on some random models coochie is just another normal day for you.

The only difference is your mood. It seems as though you’ve been going through a dry spell, with no sex for too many months to count. You just got tired of the random hookups and messy situations it always leads to and stopped putting yourself out there. Within the last week, your craving to be pleased by someone other than yourself has become insatiable. Masterbating just isn’t doing it, you need to be properly fucked by someone again.

As you listened to your best friend paint the scene of her last sexscapade you felt a pit forming in your stomach. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop it. You felt so hungry for pleasure. It’s not her you were horny for necessarily, it’s just the image of fucking a girl again, of being messily wrapped around another body, laid out with sheets tangled between you and the sound of heavy breathing taking up the room.

You were completely zoned out, caught up in your own little erotic daydreaming before Billie snapped you out of it. “Y/n, hello? I asked you a question, did you hear me?” she laughed at your startled face, clearly having drawn you out of a deep thought too suddenly. “what the hell were you thinking about girl” “it’s nothing sorry,” you swallowed, “what was your question again?” you asked as you pulled all your attention back into the conversation. “I wanna know your last juicy hookup, you always pull bad bitches” She nudged your shoulder making you laugh as she said it.

“fuck, dude I am still in that fucking dry spell. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex it’s pathetic” you laughed as the sad confession came out. Billie laughed with you, slightly making fun of your situation before you kept going. “At first it wasn’t bad, I really didn’t care. I mean at first I was having fun making myself cum and not having to deal with other people’s bullshit” “HAAHAH so fucking fair” Billie interrupted you but you continued. “But now though, oh my god. Girl, in the last two weeks I cannot fucking curb this hunger. I am so horny nonstop like, I swear I get myself off and the second I catch my breath I’m horny again. It’s fucking ridiculous” you laughed out. “Like I’m starting to feel insane. I need to go get fucked cuz this horny fucking monster in my brain is not liking my rose toy or my fingers anymore” Billie laughed hard at your words, and you joined in with her.

“Get back on tinder girl, we gotta feed that nasty monster i’ve never seen you like this it’s scary” you pushed her shoulder and clicked your tongue at her dramatic response, which she of course said with a classic mischievous grin you’ve seen too often on her face. She’s always so proud of her stupid jokes.

“I just hate tinder dude. It’s always so awkward and half the time the sex is ass anyways” you paused as she nods in agreement before you kept going. “take me to one of your award shows and introduce me to some of these bad bitches you always end up going home with” you winked and she smiled again, this time a confident slightly devilish smirk showing the pride she has for all those “bad bitches” she does have many good memories with. “I do be pullin huh” you rolled your eyes and flipped her off “don’t make me jealous you idiot”

There was a short pause to the conversation, you could see Billie’s gears turning in her head before she turned to look back at you, eyebrows raised and lips turned upwards again. “I could always just fuck ya” as she said it she shrugged, so matter of fact and nonchalant with her bold statement. “eww billie shut up you weirdo you’re my best friend” “first off, how dare you say ew, bitch. Second off I'm your hot best friend so get that straight” You smiled at her with your eyebrows raised, amusement coating your face, keeping quiet to let her finish her clearly unfinished sentence. “It doesn’t have to mean anything obviously, You’re hot, I'm hot, we’re completely comfortable with each other, we love each other, even if it’s just as friends, and you’re in a messy predicament that I can easily get you out of. I mean, I got all these bad bitches moaning and cumming like crazy i’m just sayin” She grinned and giggled at the end, knowing her fuck boy statement was ridiculous.

You both went silent, laughter filling the void as you think. Billie’s own mind wandered to the thought of making you feel good, and she began to feel her own curious desire building. You couldn’t ignore the horny energy coursing through you, it was impossible to not feel. Before your brain could talk yourself out of it you move. You got yourself up and sit back down straddling her lap with a smile and half hooded eyes looking down at Billie. She gasped for a second, somewhat shocked you were actually going along with this, before she planted her hands down and grabbed a handful of your ass.

There was a moment when your eyes met and you both giggled, amused by what was unfolding, knowing you’re both going to laugh about it afterwards as if it’s just another dumb thing you do as best friends. But as that giggle faded it’s replaced with a hunger, a growing desire and increasing erotic tension. The eye contact stayed and the smiles disappeared and suddenly your lips were wrapped between each other.

It was gentle at first, timid almost, as you both let go of the brief awkwardness of making out with your best friend for the first time. But within seconds it became passionate, heated, sloppy. Her hands continued to grab and pull at your ass over your cheeky sweatshorts, before she built confidence and slipped her hands under, now feeling your hot skin against her fingertips.

When her hands pushed you tighter against her your hips grinded and the sudden sensation against your clit made you moan quietly into the kiss. Billie pulled away and looked at you, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth in her sexy smirk as she heard your moan, immediately needing to hear more of them. She grabbed your bottom and stood you both up before turning and laying you down. Now hovering over you, Billie’s hungry eyes found yours and you could see an expression you’d never seen on her before, a dominant aroused one that maked your heart stop and goosebumps erupt all across your skin.

The feeling of her plump wet lips on your neck, placing sloppy kisses on every sliver of your skin, sucking and biting occasionally, made you moan louder. You were slowly melting into her touch, into the way she was working you up more and more. The throbbing at your core became hard to ignore and you knew you were making such a mess of your underwear as she made you more and more wet.

Billie’s eager lips found your sweet spot, sucking on your skin just below your ear, and your sweet loud moan filled her living room. “Mmmm you sound so good like that baby, so sexy hearing you moan” Your hand landed on the back of her neck, pulling her closer to your skin, needing more of her, searching for anything. She sped up her pace, kissing all over your neck and collarbones before pulling you up to take off your shirt and bralette. As you landed back on the sofa your boobs moved up and down with the motion. Billie watched with wide eyes and a big smile, you knew she’s always wanted to see them, you have found her staring at them far too often.

She wasted no time, immediately pulling your nipple into her mouth and sucking before letting it go with a pop and moving onto your other boob. Her passionate and intense attack on your chest was a clear indication of her own arousal growing. This might have just been two friends helping each other out, but that doesn’t mean you both aren’t incredibly attracted to each other and currently incredibly horny for one another. The melodies of heavy breathing and sloppy kisses filled the room and made it all quite apparent.

Billie’s lips trailed down your stomach slowly. She stopped often to bite and suck on the skin beneath her, each time pulling sweet squeaks and moans from your lips. She was enamored, fully taken over by a need to satisfy you, to give you everything you’d been missing for too long. She was taking her time, winding you up and building your desire until it was so intense you might explode. She wanted you so sensitive by the time she gave you what you wanted, that it would take only seconds to bring you to the edge.

Just before she got to the waistline of your shorts she moved back up to you, causing you to let out a deep sigh. You weren’t aware of all the air you were holding in until she stopped her sloppy, intoxicating descent down your body. As her lips found your face again her hands landed on your waist. Squeezing you tightly, Billie moaned in your ear, low and sultry, and moving straight to your wet core. The sound maked your head feel dizzy, like your body was experiencing too much need and arousal and you might pass out if you didn’t get fucked soon. Her lips pulled away from yours after a deep kiss and she whispered into your ear, “Let’s move to my room, I wanna have you laid out across my bed for me”

With that she tapped the side of your butt twice and stood up. You began to follow after her, feeling eager but slightly exposed, the cold air on your naked chest coating you in goosebumps. Billie turned to look at you and was immediately mesmerized by your freed boobs swaying and jumping as you walked. When you got to her room you jumped on the bed, giggling slightly as you watched her pull off her own top and jump on with you. Her bralette was just slightly too small, leaving her huge boobs spilling out of each side and top. Billie crawled over to you, hovering above and smirking down at you. As she looked at your body laid out under her, her tongue pushed against the inside of her cheek.

“You are too much y/n. So fucking sexy its ridiculous” You blushed at her compliment and reached above you, grabbing her face with both of your hands and pulling her down to join with you again. Her lips found yours quickly, and your tongues met not long after. You both let out moans that vibrated into the kiss. Moving your hands to Billie’s back, you searched eagerly for the clasp of her bralette. As you pulled it apart and the back dropped down, Billie moved one arm at a time and finally fully freed her boobs. You gasped at the sight of her pink hard nipples and big ivory boobs lightly grazing against your own, admittedly also having been caught staring at them too many times in your friendship.

Your head lifted up as your hand grabbed her boob, guiding it between your lips. A gasp followed by a deep moan filled the room as you eagerly sucked and bit on her nipples. The sudden pleasure made Billie’s body give out slightly, landing her knee between your legs to catch herself. You moved yourself down a bit more to continue your affection on her boobs and as you did your clit grazed her knee, immediately making you gasp. Billie let out a mischievous giggle before pushing your hips down and pulling her knee up, intensifying the pressure and the pleasure right away.

She pulled her boobs away from you and you groaned, missing them in your mouth immediately. She filled the void with her lips on your neck and her hands pulled at your hips, forcing you to begin grinding against her knee. Your back arched up and as you grinded you felt the crotch of your baggy shorts slip to the side. Now, just your soaked panties laid between you and Billie’s thigh. As you continued your motion Billie felt your wetness slipping against her, causing her own panties to get soaked. The sudden evidence of your wet arousal made something snap in Billies mind, “I need to taste you, fuck you’re so wet for me” She moved down quickly, getting herself comfortable between your legs before slipping off your shorts and thong at the same time.

“Godddddd so fucking pretty” Billie moaned after loudly swallowing. Your dripping pussy clenched in front of her as reality hit that you are about to get eaten out, finally after too many long months. The sensation of Billie’s smooth wet tongue slowly slipping between your folds sent a shockwave through your body. The comforter rustled as your hands dug around, trying to grab hold, trying to ground yourself. Her tongue flattened out wide and continued licking from your leaking entrance all the way up to your clit, where she stopped briefly and added pressure. She’s too good, it was making you melt and you felt like you were floating, no longer on earth. Your head felt cloudier and cloudier as her pleasure became the only thing you could feel. Her tongue continued sloppily consuming you, slurping you up at each lick before moving up to your clit. She knew exactly what she was doing, her actions pulling you closer and closer to the edge already.

As your moans got louder and louder and the pleasure consumed you, Billie began moving her hands from around your thighs. One traveled up and landed on your boob, pinching and pulling at your nipple, turning your moans to sweet yelps and cries. You could feel her smile against your cunt as her other hand moved down to your center.

Your messy wetness allowed two of her fingers to slip inside you with ease, immediately curling them upwards and pumping in and out slowly and deliberately. She made her tongue flat and hard and pushed it up against your clit. Moving her head side to side, she could feel your swollen bud throbbing under her. The sensation of her fingers filling you perfectly and her tongue playing with your sensitive clit had you gasping. It wasn’t just that you haven’t felt this in awhile that was making things build so quickly. Billie was incredibly skilled, you were learning that quite quickly. You’ve never been eaten out so well. You’ve never been so close to cumming so quickly. It usually takes you a while and you have to focus to feel the pleasure. Not right now, not with Billie. All you could think about was pleasure, it was surrounding you, inside of you, swirling and filling the room. It was everywhere.

“Billie, right there, fuck” your words came out as pants, completely drunk off the way she was fucking you. “Oh god Billie, yessss” She hummed into you, showing how much she loved making you moan. Your walls began pulsing and clenching around her fingers and your thighs squeezed her head tighter as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge. “Mmmm you close mama, you gunna cum for me?” her sultry tone was laced with pride as she continued devouring you and watching you squirm in front of her. “Yes yes yes Billie fuck I’m gunna cum”

Just as the words left your lips Billie pulled away, a slight seductive giggle hit your ears. You gasped, completely shocked at her actions, and as you lifted your head to confront her you were met with a shit eating grin spread across her face. “awe, did I ruin your orgasm? im sorry” she sarcastically mocked you, the obnoxious smile never leaving her face. “I can’t even keep myself away for long enough to properly tease you, you taste so good, so fucking sweet baby”

her lips latched onto your clit, the warmth of her mouth against your now cold cunt sent shivers through you. You didn’t expect Billie to be treating you like this, you thought she’d give you the basic stuff and make you cum quickly to satiate the hunger in you, but now, now she’s making it grow even stronger.

It only took a few minutes of sloppy sucking and licking for your orgasm to rise again. Her fingers were moving faster and her lips were wrapped tight around ur clit, sucking and licking and sucking and licking. With your hands tangled in her hair and your legs spread as far as they could go, you pushed Billie as tight against your pussy as possible, trying hard to hold in the loud moans that we’re fighting to come out. “I’m gunna cum, I- I’m gunna cum, right there Billie” she listened close to your breathing, trying to take in all the noises you were making that were turning her on too much. As she heard your gasps becoming more and more erratic and chaotic she knew you were close again.

Within seconds her mouth was gone, placing light kisses on your inner thighs and laughing again at your groans. Her fingers were still inside of you but they were still, no longer moving in and out. She could feel the way your walls pulsed around her as she edged you out of your almost orgasm.

“Fuck, Billie, please let me cum, you’re killing me” you whined out, getting too heated and too needy now. “oh but edging you and hearing you beg is so much more fun” she paused to place another kiss on your thigh, this time so close to your pussy it made you gasp. she smiled against your skin before speaking again, “And it’ll feel sooooo much better when I finally let you cum, be patient for a little longer babygirl, it’ll be worth it.” Your stomach flipped at the nickname and your head began to feel fuzzy from the rollercoaster of pleasure she’s been making you feel.

Billie did it all over again, building you up higher and higher with her talented tongue and fingers. The room was filled with the sound of your wetness against her mouth, and your gasps and moans that you tried hard to hold it but couldn’t. You felt like you were becoming addicted to the way she was fucking you. It was better than anything you’re used to. You were beginning to realize all those stories of her making her partners cum over and over again, and the way she said she’d make them scream, none of it was exaggerated, she was just that good. You almost didn’t want to cum, didn’t want it to end. You knew you couldn’t have this again.

As the cues were showing Billie how close you were yet again, she stopped, yet again. This time, she pulled her fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the emptiness and at the feeling of your orgasm disappearing again. Your eyes opened to the sight of Billie right about you. “taste yourself babygirl, taste how delicious you are” Her fingers slid into your mouth and after a moment of swirling your tongue around her she pulled them away, replacing them with her lips. You kissed her passionately, showing your eager desire, needing her to know how fucking hungry you were after being edged too many times to count.

Your growing impatience filled your body, you felt overwhelmed by it and allowed it to fully take control. Your hand gripped her hair and you pulled her back down to where you needed her most, hard and only by her strands of black silk. She sucked in a breath and moaned at your needy and slightly dominant action before landing her lips back on your dripping pussy. She was moving faster than before, like she was a ravenous animal that’d been starved for days. When her fingers, now 3 deep, slipped back into your desperate hole, she moaned out with you, as if she was enjoying this as much as you were. Each of her movements were calculated and deliberate. She was using all her skills, all her tricks on you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, you were being suffocated by the almost unknown pleasure she was bringing you. Her tongue parted with you for just long enough to speak, “Did so good for me love, such a good girl letting me tease you like that. Go on and cum for me, cum all over my fingers and face. Need you to make a mess of me baby” Those words mixed with the return of her tongue sent you over the edge.

You were spiraling, dizzy and overwhelmed as your body erupted into sparks of pleasure. The sensations were almost too much as you screamed out her name over and over. Billie kept going, kept fucking into you, kept licking your clit, kept your orgasm flowing through your body. You knew more was coming, you could feel it. The one thing Billie didn’t know about you was that you could squirt. She was about to learn. It took one last flick of her fingers for the gates to open. You screamed, letting it all out at once as you squirted months of built up tension onto her fingers, her face, her boobs. It was everywhere and you felt like you were no longer on Earth, gasping for air as you began your descent back down.

Your eyes finally opened to see Billie’s bold eyes and big smile, she was still between your legs, still gazing at your fucked out pussy in front of her. “holy shit y/n, that was so fucking hot. I had no idea you could squirt” She was so turned on, she couldn’t stop thinking about how hot you were, how hot it was to watch you cum all over her. Her legs squeezed together unconsciously, but you picked up on it. You knew Billie didn’t start this with the intention of you fucking her but now you needed it.

As she came bakc up towards your face she kissed you on the forehead. You were still trying to catch your breath and stop your legs from continuing to shake with the aftershocks. You looked at her with a satisfied smile and a shaky laugh that came out with each of your breaths. Her face matched yours showing off her complete enjoyment from what just played out. After wiping your cum off of her face she finally broke the silence, “so, did we do it? Are you finally satisfied?” You began to nod, the laughter still coming out each time you breathed.

You flipped yourself on top of her catching her completely off guard before speaking, “I will be once I make you cum” as soon as the words slid off your tongue your lips were backing on hers, moaning at the taste of your own cum coating her mouth.

You both knew this could only be for one night, so you might as well make it a long night.

[mirohlayo]

MY PRETTY BOY

pairing: fool!student!lando x uni!student!reader

warning: none, fluff, and fluffff

university smau, where Lando is completely smitten with his girlfriend who tends to be a bit of a bully to him, but in a funny way (also let's pretend oscar and lily are friends with both reader and lando in this one)

note : i love uni/highschool student lando idk why

yourusername just posted !

liked by landonorris, yourbff, lilyzneimer, friend1, friend2 and others....

yourusername: coffee, beautiful girl, studies

view comments

landonorris: this beautiful girl looks exactly like my beautiful girlfriend 😍

⤷ yourusername: impressive, she must be so cool and amazing then

⤷ landonorris: her boyfriend too

yourbff: got the smartest bff, i'm a lucky one

⤷ yourusername: gonna get that degree for both of us don't worry 🤞

friend1: you look the happiest in this !!

⤷ landonorris: thanks to who ? 😁

⤷ yourusername: thanks to this absolutely scrumptious delicious cinnamon roll in my hand

⤷ landonorris: i HATE you

friend2: study date when babe ?

⤷ yourusername: as soon as see you, which means tomorrow

⤷ friend2: can't wait then omg

⤷ landonorris: and me ? ☹️

⤷ yourusername: no

lilyzneimer: girl help me, oscar is going insane cause lando keep crying about the fact you bully him in the comments

⤷ yourusername: ahw, i love my lando ❤️

⤷ landonorris: O.M.F.G baby i love you too i'm so in love with you ❤️

landonorris just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, maxfewtrell, friend1 and others...

landonorris: i'm the one 4 u, y/n ❤️

view comments

yourusername: caption is embarrassing but thanks i guess

⤷ landonorris: oh 😀

maxfewtrell: the last pic mate, do you do weddings ??

⤷ landonorris: ... only for those who will actually end up getting married 😁

⤷ pietra.pilao: ??

⤷ yourusername: dw babe he's not acting like a good boy lately

⤷ landonorris: call me that again 🤤

⤷ yourusername: wtf-

oscarpiastri: i need to expose you mate but you're an horrible golf player

⤷ landonorris: it's not me it's the fucking BALL

friend1: why does y/n seems more interested in the sunset than you ??

⤷ landonorris: she's just shy on pictures but do not doubt her love for me ❤️

⤷ yourusername: doubt it please 🙏

⤷ landonorris: oh well i love you too baby 😀

friend2: we need to go karting together again man !!

⤷ landonorris: sure !

yourusername just posted !

liked by yourbff, friend2, friend3, landonorris, pietra.pilao, maxfewtrell and others...

yourusername: got my little campus joker studying 📚

view comments

landonorris: i preferred the part where i was able to kiss you

⤷ yourusername: lando you can't say that

landonorris: guys it's bullshit i wasn't even studying, i just missed her ☹️

⤷ yourusername: that's why you almost hit me when i interrupted you in your concentrate state

⤷ landonorris: ... don't expose me like that

yourbff: you guys are the cutest i'm in love with your relationship

⤷ landonorris: i'm in love with her too

⤷ yourusername: you're cute

⤷ landonorris: omg she called me cute guys i'm sobbing 🥹

friend3: wow so lando study on instagram now that's an interesting way... to learn things

⤷ yourusername: i tried to expose him but guess he didn't even notice it

⤷ landonorris: i just noticed it BABYI SWEAR WHEN I'LL CATCH YOU

⤷ yourusername: love you sweetheart

⤷ landonorris: ahww nevermind i love you too angel 😘

pietra.pilao: my smart girl 💕

⤷ yourusername: 💗

maxfewtrell: ain't no way you got lando studying he would rather lose a race than study

⤷ yourusername: guess he values me that much to get into studying

⤷ landonorris: yes love i do

⤷ yourusername: uh did not ask ??

landonorris just posted !

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, oscarpiastri, friend1 and others...

landonorris: guess who scored himself a date 💐

view comments

yourusername: you said that like i'm not already ur girlfriend

⤷ landonorris: you called yourself my girlfriend oh my 😍

yourusername: you almost choked me on the third pic

⤷ landonorris: oh you liked it so 😏

⤷ yourusername: i'm blocking you

⤷ landonorris: wait- NO BABY I'M KIDDING don't block me pretty girl

pietra.pilao: Y/n is gorgeous 💗

⤷ landonorris: she's mine, too bad for you

maxfewtrell: man you gotta fight for your girl AND for your own rights 😭

⤷ landonorris: I KNOW RIGHT i can't even publicly show my love and devotion to my girl

⤷ yourusername: maybe try harder 🤷‍♀️

⤷ landonorris: i think I'm hallucinating guys did you read the same thing as me ?

friend1: oh mate you're smitten

⤷ landonorris: i am and I'm not complaining at all

oscarpiastri: lily saw your post and now i had to plan something for us too. good job man 😐

⤷ landonorris: osc, don't be so pessimistic, you should thank me for this opportunity i gave you

⤷ oscarpiastri: how could i top your date mate ?

⤷ landonorris: i know i planned a perfect date, but don't worry you can still try as hard as me 🙂‍↕️

⤷ yourusername: he just gave me flowers and... that's pretty much all

⤷ landonorris: WHAT stop lying i invited you to that chic restaurant you wanted to try for ages

⤷ yourusername: i know babe just messing up with you, you're perfect ❤️

yourusername just posted !

liked by landonorris, yourbff, lilyzneimer, pietra.pilao, maxfewtrell, friend4 and others...

yourusername: even though i bully you (and that you'll never be as smart as me), i love you with all of my heart, my pretty boy. It has always been you and i'll always be proud of you, no matter what ❤️

view comments

landonorris: angel, i love you so much it hurts

landonorris: i'm the luckiest and happiest man in the world with you

⤷ yourusername: I'M the luckiest and happiest girl in the world 😚

landonorris: she's all mine guys don't be so jealous

⤷ yourbff: she was mine before you but you two are cute together so i'll leave you for this time

yourbff: my adopted children 🥺

⤷ yourusername: mum we miss youuu

⤷ landonorris: uh no i only miss YOU baby

lilyzneimer: the cutest couple of the campus

⤷ yourusername: not as cute as you and osc

⤷ oscarpiastri: osc ?? lando must be a fan of me cuz it looks like i'm his favorite topic of conversation

⤷ yourusername: he is for sure

⤷ landonorris: stop spreading true rumors

maxfewtrell: still can't believe lando pull a girl like you, seriously

⤷ landonorris: i'm taking this personally, very offensing of you max

friend4: the karting pic ahww

⤷ yourusername: the only times he doesn't let me win 🙄

⤷ landonorris: sorry baby but i'll let you win next time since i love you so much 🧡

[ghouldump]

more loustat x chill/unbothered/oblivious fem reader PLEASE!!

maybe she's like been a part of their relationship for a while, and she like the fledgling of some other vampire, her and her maker were like chill and totally platonic he dipped at some point before she met loustat, and she like the sane one between them and unfortunately gets ignored/left out unfortunately

something like the scene from season 1 where Louis swims across the Mississippi river to get to Lestat, and like reader is there too cause she went w Louis and loustat being there dramatic selves while she's just like trying to talk it out like adults, and then it spirals into argument about her wanting to visit her maker because Lestat, and tbh Louis too, is petty like that

Also your iwtv fics are my life line omg!!🎀

L'amour De Ma Vie | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ while you love your companions, it is no secret that they oftentimes exclude you, and it isn't until you leave that they go into panic mode.

I love this idea, I hope you don't mind me changing it a little bit 🩷

“Louis, Y/n, you’re both soaking wet,” Lestat sat up from the bed.

Glancing at Louis, you could tell he was seconds away from slapping the smirk from Lestat’s face. The woman, Antoinette, wrapped one of the many sheets around her body, awkwardly staring at the two of you.

“Leave,” he told her, and just like that, she was up, running out of the bedroom.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Looking for you, and we…found you,” you answered. Louis remained silent, staring at Lestat, his mind all over the place from his companion's betrayal.

You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you didn't. Your maker, Lucius, lives a polyamorous lifestyle. From the moment he turned you, becoming his daughter, you saw the plethora of women and men come and go. Eternity was too long for him to stay with one person, he'd jokingly say, leaving a trail of broken hearts.

“You put your lover on the song, and expect us to come running back to you,” Louis screamed at him.

“I wanted a clear voice, to get the-

“I don’t give a fuck,” Louis interrupted.

“Louis, we agreed that we would just talk it out,” you told him, watching as he was fuming, but he ignored your words.

“You two swam to Mississippi to find me,” Lestat kept the same expression, eyeing the both of you lustfully.

“I swim faster than I drive,” Louis said, his fangs coming out.

“We don’t have to fight like this, we can find a middle ground-

“No, why are you acting unbothered by him stepping out on both of us?” Louis asked.

“I’m not, polyamory isn’t a deal breaker for me, so I feel like-

“He cheated Y/n, whatever bullshit you were exposed to by your maker, doesn’t apply in this relationship,” he told you, catching you off guard.

“That isn’t what I’m saying, we came here because of the song but also because we’ve agreed to make things work”

“So why are you acting like you’re on his side?”

“Louis, what are you talking about? Just because I’m not as angry as you, doesn’t mean I am against you, Lucius has always said anger is-

“Do you always have to bring him up?” Lestat asked a slight frown in place.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius, are you with us, or Lucius?” He raised his voice. Furrowing your eyebrows, you were extremely confused, about how the conversation went from Lestat’s infidelity to your relationship with your maker.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing,” you said, backing away.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” Louis shook his head, mentally criticizing himself for his choice of words.

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him, before leaving, due to your small age difference in your makers, you were faster than Louis, going back home.

You hated this feeling, this emotion, how your mind made you think of things that never bothered you too much before, but now did. From the moment you joined their companionship, you were constantly unintentionally excluded. Even in public, you cringed at times you were assumed to be nothing more than a friend of the two.

Entering the home you had grown to love, you went upstairs, packing some clothing in a bag. You were thankful that Claudia was out hunting, knowing your departure wouldn’t be so smooth if she’d been home. Leaving the bedroom, the family portrait caught your eye, making you pout.

Claudia sat on the sofa, while you, stood next to Louis and Lestat, who leaned against the sofa. You had been hesitant to take the photos, but they all insisted. As the photographer went to snap the photo, Lestat glanced at you.

“Come closer,” he said, pulling you between him and Louis.

His hand on your waist, while Louis held your hand, you all looked like a happy family.

Wiping the tear from your eye, you thought of how despite the occasional exclusion, they did so much more that made you overlook the habit. Maybe you could just get away for a little while, before coming back home.

Glamouring your way from state to state, for well over 24 hours, before you arrived in Los Angeles. Lucius fit into the bright city where stars and beauty resided. As you drained the shipment driver, you felt your blood pumping, an adrenaline rush of excitement coursing through your veins. Lifting from the man, you looked around, sensing the familiar presence near.

“I knew it was you I was sensing,” you heard, smiling brightly, you climbed out of the truck, running into Lucius' arms. His expensive scent filled your nose, as you wiped your mouth.

“What are you wearing, my love, is this what they wear down in New Orleans?” he asked, staring at your outfit. Beige trousers, along with a light pink blouse, he shook his head in disapproval. He considered himself to have impeccable taste in clothing, but he also was old-fashioned in some ways.

“I couldn't have traveled practically in a dress,” you said.

“I am more than glad that you are here, but why so sudden? I mean, no letter or postcard”

“I just wanted to get away from home for a while”

“Those two aren't treating you right? They are easily replaceable, what have I always told you, an eternity is-

“too long to be stuck with the same person, and I should always explore my taste, I know, and Louis and Lestat are fine, I just wanted to get away, I was hoping I could stay with you, for some time, if that's alright”

“Of course, you are always welcome,” he said, walking you to his car.

He didn't live too far away, in an expensive neighborhood, his villa home, the most extravagant. Stepping out, you immediately noticed the woman, peaking from the window.

“You have company?”

“Yes, Sonya, she wants to be an actor”

“You said that weirdly, is she special, maybe a potential companion?” you asked him, grinning.

“She has very sweet blood and an equally cute face, so I keep her around”

“You were just talking about me being with the same people-

“My love, this is different, she has grown on me, yes, but I think we both know I’ll eventually crave something new,” he smirked, as he wrapped his arm around you, leading you into the house.

“Shameless,” you laughed.

“It's true, and the best part of all, when the sex is wonderful they always come running back, come on, I have an extra coffin, you can sleep in”

“I went all the way to Metairie, and nothing, what about you?” Louis announced, walking back into the house. Pacing the floor, while Lestat sat at the piano, staring off into space.

“Why is he back here, I thought we weren’t talking to him right now? And where’s Y/n?” Claudia asked.

“Not now Clau-

“She’s gone, she took some clothes and left,” Lestat finally spoke.

“She can’t be too far, we can still find her and-

“I’ve been all over Mississippi, searching, nothing, not a trace, I can’t think of where she could be and I’m not her m-” Stopping in his speech, he put his head down, clenching his jaw. His leg shook lightly, trying to contain his anger.

“What is it?” Louis asked as he and Claudia stared confusedly at him.

“She’s with her maker,” he managed to get out.

His eyes reddened as he grew angrier, Lestat couldn’t help that he was inherently jealous, unrighteously possessive, especially towards those he loved, and that was very few. You were the most relaxed, forgiving vampire he'd ever met. Extremely oblivious and doting, you'd brag to whoever would listen about how great he was.

While he and Louis held all of the attention, he could hear you bragging to some mortal how well-dressed Louis was, or how Lestat was the greatest musician to grace your ears. You would go on and on, stroking their egos, willingly accepting and loving their baggage Claudia, you were a precious gem, adored by them both.

Your personality was much calmer than theirs, while they regularly clashed, you'd be bringing up calming methods, or ignoring them, chatting with Claudia.

“You have the power over your anger, Lucius was once a cruel angry vampire until he realized it was pointless, if the situation can be fixed, then do it, but if not, leave it in the past,” you'd quote.

Lucius, Lestat hated the man greatly, despite never coming across him before. Suppose his hate began from the respect you held for the man. He was around the same age as Lestat, from Italy, and was very handsome, he'd heard you say before.

He wished he could undo time so that he could become your maker. His blood in your veins, your heart in sync with his own, his fully, bound by more than your vow of companionship. While Louis only hated the man for the weird lifestyle habits he passed along to you, Lestat loathed the idea of another being nearly as perfect as he was to you.

“Lucius speaks French too, although he's more fluent in Italian”

“Lucius is also into fashion, he used to dress me all the time”

“Lucius was once a part of an opera, but he ended up causing a bit of drama because he slept with nearly everyone who worked there”

“Lucius…”

“Lucius…”

Lestat sat frozen seething at the thought of the man. He wanted nothing more than to kill him for making his way into your heart, he couldn't care less about the kind of relationship you'd shared with him.

“Uncle Les,” Claudia called out, exchanging a look with Louis.

“We can still get her to come home, he has sent her mail before,” looking around, he sent to the pile of mail, looking through and seeing the ripped-open envelope.

“Los Angeles, she's in Los Angeles, we can find her,” Louis approached Lestat, showing him the mail.

“She's gone, she's gone back to him and left us,” Lestat mumbled to himself, already crying.

“Hey, we’re gonna find her and she'll hear out, she’ll come back home,” Louis told Lestat, also trying to convince himself, as tears dropped from his eyes.

“I’m going to bed,” Lestat sulked.

“So you can cry all night? Do you want Y/n to come back or not, I sure as hell got used to some peace around here, we have the address, we can easily find a way out there, stop being so dramatic,” Claudia screamed at him.

“I preferred her quiet,” he said, sniffling.

“We can get her back home, you know how she is, she'll want to talk it out before we're back on the road”

“The insufferable therapy sessions,” he chimed in, as he wiped his eyes.

“Exactly, we can start planning right now,” Louis said, his companion nodded in agreement.

“How much do I need to pack?” Claudia asked.

“What makes you think you could come?” Lestat asked her, crossing his legs.

“Because I care about Y/n too”

“We won't be gone for long Claudia, we're just trying to get her to come back home,” Louis said to her, watching as she stepped away.

“If Y/n was here, she would not be okay with you just leaving me here,” she said, stomping upstairs.

“Where should we start?”

“Why don’t you turn Sonya? It’s so obvious that you care about her?” You asked Lucius as you danced to the classical record, in the considerably large living room. Wearing the custom gown he'd gifted you, both of your mouths were covered in blood from the guest of the orgy he'd hosted.

It had been nearly a week of spending time with him, and you were enjoying every moment of the easygoing, carefree life.

“None of this music is as good as it once was, going to see Paganini, I had never heard an instrument played so beautifully,” he shook his head, ignoring your question.

“Lucius,” you called his name knowingly, forcing him to look at you.

“I can't turn her, I…I love her,” he admitted, dipping you.

“If you love her, you'd turn her, and you both can have eternity together,” you told him, but he smiled, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“If I love her, then I'll let her live, have children of her own, and pass on as a pretty little elderly woman,” he said.

“Very noble of you,” you joked.

“I guess, but I’ll hold on until that time comes, I have another two years, and she’ll be twenty-seven”

“Aw, Lucius, are you sure you don't want me to do it?” you asked, as he continued to dance.

“Love looks different for everyone, my love, you, of all people, understand that,” he chuckled.

“I guess you're right”

“I suppose that is why your lovers are about to burst into my home,” he said with a smile, as he held you close.

“Yeah, probably, wait, wh-

Just then, the front door burst open, Lestat and Louis storming it, although, they had different targets, rushing over. Louis stood in front of you, pulling you away, into his arms, already pleading that you forgive him for how he spoke and his recent habit of exclusion.

While Lestat instantly had Lucius against the wall, his hand to his throat. Your maker only laughed, you truly learned well, both of these men wrapped completely around your finger, and you didn't even realize it.

“Lestat, don't,” you told him, hearing his chaotic thoughts, he wanted Lucius dead.

“You leave without a word, in the middle of the night. Countless arguments, and the moment he comes up, you up and leave me, leave us,” he screamed.

“We can talk about it, but I need you to let him go, I don't want to see you two fighting, so please, just release him,” you said, exhaling a breath of air, as he let go, growling at Lucius, who nonchalantly walked to you.

“You've done so well, my love, they're like your two little dogs,” he laughed, turning off the music.

“Lucius,” you warned lightly, as he pulled you close to whisper into your ear.

“I’ll give you a bit of privacy, I presume you won't be here when am back, I want you to reach out more often, it has been fun since you've been back home”

“I will,” you nodded.

“Wonderful, I love you”

“I love you too,” you said, watching as he went outside, flying into the air in an instant.

“What are you two doing here?” you asked them, wiping your mouth.

“What are we doing here? Did you forget that you have companions, or did you not care?” Lestat asked angrily.

“You up and left, you didn't even leave a note,” Louis said.

“Did you not care when you were in Mississippi, did you care when you brought up upbringing as if it was an insult?” the words shut them up, the guilt evident, in their eyes.

“Do you love him more, you went back to your maker because you want him more, we haven't been enough for you,” Lestat spoke.

“I'm sorry for what I said to you, I was angry and I misdirected my anger and I didn't mean to do that, especially to you,” Louis apologized.

“Apologizing is pointless, you love him more than any of us, I just need to hear you say it, perhaps that will give me the closure I need, say Lestat, I never loved you-

Bursting out laughing, you covered your mouth, waving your hand apologetically at the two.

“I'm sorry, but you two are drama queens,” you laughed.

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn't even take all of my clothes, or my coffin if I was leaving, I would be taking that because it’s custom,” you told them.

“Why didn't you say that in a letter?” Louis asked you.

“Because I thought about leaving for good, but then I considered how much I love you both, yes, I am oftentimes left out, but when I'm not, I feel like I'm on top of the world, and as you said, we have gotten into countless of arguments, why would I just because you brought up Lucius?”

“You're always bringing him up, comparing-

“I’m not comparing the two of you, you have a few things in common, it has only been a handful of times, but you only like the attention on you, you get so jealous at the thought of me talking about another man,” you laughed.

“Don't be ridiculous, and he's not nearly as good-looking as me,” he said.

“See, I never compared your looks, I know who looks better, Lucius doesn't come close”

“You too, Louis, jealous, worried that I wouldn't think that our relationship is enough and I’d go back to Lucius to practice his lifestyle, it's cute really, you both came scrambling out here, to win me back, I am touched and a few other things,” you continued as they approached you.

Immediately, Lestat was kissing your lips, holding you close, scared to let you slip away. Pushing away from him, you pulled Louis near, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Lestat stood behind you, kissing your neck, and tearing the dress.

“Where’s Claudia?” you asked through your moans, as each article of clothing was peeled away. Stopping, the two slowly stared at each other, before looking at you.

“She’s in New Orleans”

“You left her in New Orleans, by herself? We need to leave now, why would you do that?” you yelled, going to pack your things.

“Wait, can we finish what we started?” Louis asked his hand over the painfully stiff sensation between his legs.

“No, we need to get back to her”

“I hate when the brat is right”

[jenniesicecream]

I Hate That I Love You (Danielle x M Reader)

"Your ex is looking at us." Your best friend, Pham Hanni informed you. You chugged your beer down while maintaining an eye towards the mirror behind Hanni, allowing you to see the extent of the jealousy shown in the eyes of Danielle Marsh, your ex girlfriend, or you should add, your ex-fiance to be, as she broke it off just a week before you planned to propose to her.

"I know. Let's make her jealous even more shall we?" You said to Hanni, making her smirk. She then got closer to you and wrapped her hands around your neck, tilting your head allowing your lips to meet hers. Dani watched the two of you in fury, as her grip on the glass tighten. Unbeknownst to her, you and Hanni were just there, putting your foreheads against each other, just laughing and chuckling, imagining Dani's reactions while also adding some jokes, making the two of you chuckle even more.

Suddenly, you jolt backwards in surprise as you felt the fury in Danielle, watching as she pulled Hanni's hair for a few seconds. It didn't take long before you intervened, holding Dani back as you grabbed her hands and held her back. You guide her out of the bar and down into your dorm. You entered your spacious dorm and and immiediately went to the living room, putting Dani down on the sofa, with you following her afterwards.

"What the fuck was that?" You asked, watching as Dani took hard and deep breathes, trying to compose herself. "What was what?" The first words came out of Dani's mouths. "Don't give me that bullshit Dani, I know what you've been up to tonight." You told her. "If so, why did you continue it?" She said sternly, making you gulp. "B-Because.." You say, before she interrupted you again. "YOU FUCKING KNEW WHAT'S UP ALL THIS TIME AND NEVER THOUGHT TO CHECK UP?" Dani started raging at you, throwing different pillows at you.

"D, just calm the fuck down, please. Take deep breathes." You said, trying to get closer to her. "N-NO! JUST WHEN EVERYTHING IS CLOSE, MY LIFE FELL APART, AND THE WORST THING IS, YOU WEREN'T THERE TO CATCH ME!" You watch as Danielle screamed her heart out, before getting into a sobbing mess. You immediately got close to her and hug her, comforting her as she cried her heart out.

"Shhh shhhh, it's okay love, I'm here for you." You said, caressing her back and shoulders, leaving kisses on her forehead a few times. It took a while before Dani hugged you back, wrapping her arms around your torso. It didn't take any longer before the two of you got too exhausted from the stress this whole thing has created, causing you two to fall asleep in each other's arms.

(Next Morning)

"So, what should we do about them?" Your bestfriend, Kang Haerin, said, to Hanni. "I say we let them be, but before that...." You and Dani groaned, reacting to a flash that suddenly occurred, making you open your eyes. You were greeted by the sight of Hanni and Haerin waving at the two of you. However, what surprised you more was the warmth you felt across your body, as well as the arms of someone wrapped around your body.

You looked down, and your worst nightmares came true, as you saw Danielle Marsh wrapped around your arms. What's worse, is probably the fact that her eyes were wide open, staring at you. "WHAT THE FUCK!" The two of you shout at each other, before getting away from each other. The sudden noise also surprised your two friends as they jumped in surprise. "Alright, since you two are awake, I hope you two remember how much you still love each other, and proceed to make babies. Bye!!!!" Hanni said, before leaving your dorm with Haerin, leaving the two of you in awkward silence, as your so-called "bestfriend" just spilled your heart out to your ex.

"So uh, I did the talking last night, I guess now is your turn." Dani said. "Whoa whoa, why should I talk?" You ask her in disbelief, trying to stir away from the conversation which clearly states how much you still love her. "Just explain yourself you sick bastard, Hanni already spilled half of it, now's time for you to finish it." Dani said.

"A-A-Alright, fine." You said, before you sat back down on your sofa, Dani closely following you. "It was 2 months after our break up. I saw you leaving the club with Jack, making out with each other, and since then, it just got downhill. I got into a spiral, lost control of my tasks, activities, and at every point I just thought you'll catch me, but you didn't. That was clearly when it hurt me the most, and it was really the time I realized that I still love you and regret letting you go." You said, watching as Dani take in each word.

"Fuck it." You turned your head hearing her words and you were, at the very least, surprised, when you felt her lips on yours. You took a few seconds before realizing what she is doing. After you realized, you immediately replied to her kiss, kissing her even more aggressive than what she's done. She wrapped her hands around your neck, allowing the two of you to continue kissing before you grab her by her hips, lifting her up onto your lap. You helped remove her outer before throwing it away, allowing you to move your kisses down onto her neck, collarbone and exposed shoulders. It didn't take long before Dani started moaning, making you smirk as you know that your effect on her is still the same after all this time.

After a while, you felt Dani unbutton your polo, before she tried to lift it up. Knowing what she wants, you lift your clothes up and threw it to the side, watching as Dani stared your toned body down. "Get up." You told her, and she obeyed immediately. You then leaned upwards a bit, before moving your hands onto her pants. You unbuckled her belt before lowering her pants and her black Calvin Klein panties, exposing her glistening pussy. "Tell me, is there anyone as good as me?" You ask, leaning in to start kissing her thighs. You moved your kisses upwards while waiting for an answer. "N-No." You heard Dani whimper. Knowing this, you smirked before diving into her pussy immediately, earning a moan from her.

You lick the outer part of her pussy while also playing with her clit. It didn't take long before she pushed your head in, asking for more, and that's what you gave her as you start sucking the insides of her pussy aggressively. At the same time, you also played with her tits through her bra as well as rub her clit aggressively, helping her get close to her orgasm. The effect is very clear as she started leaking her juices not long after. You moved to also fingering her while also sucking her pussy even more aggressively, helping her get to her impeding orgasm as she squirt her juices out of her pussy aggressively. You lapped her juices up while also fingering her even faster, helping her intensify her orgasm.

"I bet no guy made you cum that hard before." You said, before standing up and carrying her bride-style. "Argh! And no, no one ever did." Dani said, as you carry her into your room. You laid her down on your bed before you removed your pants, while you also watch her remove her bra and throw it to the side. You were about to reach to the bedside drawer to grab condoms, but Dani held you down. "Go raw. Please." Dani begged, and you followed her wishes. You slapped your cock on her pussy a few times, before gliding it up and down on her clit, making her whine, before you thrust into her unexpectedly, making her moan.

You rested inside her for a few moments before you start fucking her, thrusting in and out of her at a slow pace, while resting your hands on her hips, as you allow her to feel every inch of your cock. Soon after, you start thrusting deeper into her, still maintaining the slow pace, making Dani whine even more. "I'm here to get railed, not get fucked by a grandpa." Dani whined.

Hearing this, you pulled out of her and flipped her around, before you raised her ass and spanked it a few times, entering her tight pussy again. "I'll show you what it feels like getting railed." You say, before you start thrusting hard and fast into her. Your tip just stayed at the edge of her pussy before you thrust into her after each thrust, allowing you to widen her pussy after each thrust. Her then-tight pussy, now already widened from your thrusts, still maintained the warmth, which got you close to your orgasm.

You grabbed her hair into a ponytail and pulled it, making her yank her head back as her moans got louder, while your thrusts got harder and deeper, allowing you to find her g-spot. You found it again and again, which was basically a cheat code in your favor, helping her reach her climax as she came again, this time not as hard as before. You rest inside her while you fondled with her tits, helping her prolong and intensify her orgasm.

After she finished cumming, you pulled out of her and turned her around, setting her on her back again you start fucking her again this time in missionary. However, unlike previously, you're fucking her to chase your own orgasm as you thrust hard and fast into her while you also held her hips, stabilizing her body. Dani also helped you by wrapping her arms around your neck and legs around your hips allowing you to thrust deeper into her. "I know you're close baby, just cum inside me, I'm safe." Dani said, before she suddenly moaned loudly, making you know that you hit a spot. Your thrusts got very hard and deep into her for a few times before you came.

"Ahhhhh AHhhhh AHhhh AHhhhh" You groaned into her ears repeatedly as you came, spurting your 2-month worth of cum into her womb. Dani moaned loudly after each spurt enter her, and seemed to never stop as you continued cumming into her. After you finished, you pulled out of her and you were about to get up, but you were instead pulled into an intense kiss by Dani. You replied to the kiss with the same passion, as the two of you kissed until you two fell asleep.

[theereina]

Where You Going?

Pairing: Toxic Husband!Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.8K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, baby girl, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), P in V, Dom!Terry, Toxic!Terry, alluding to spanking *if you squint*, rough sex

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

As my opened suitcase lay on the bed, I only thought of getting as much of my stuff packed before he came home. I had no other priorities besides leaving. It was 7:02, so I had less than 2 hours before he left work.

“Fuck! I can't find my ring,” I said rushing into the bathroom.

I was struggling to search for it in the chaos I had created. The entire house was a mess. I had singlehandedly destroyed every room in less than 4 hours. No room was left unturned, and I didn't care about how the house looked. This would become his problem after I left. Maybe, he would finally pay attention to something other than his job and friends.

I lifted all of the items on the bathroom counter. To my surprise, I still couldn't find it. I remembered taking it off and sitting it on the counter before doing my hair a few days ago. The prongs always found a way to get tangled in the coils of my 4c hair. I chose to take the ring off rather than deal with my hair constantly getting snagged. Since removing my ring was something I always did, I didn't notice that I didn't have it until this morning.

“You know what?! He'll find it. I don't care anymore,” I said, huffing as I leaned against the counter.

I looked into the mirror, taking in my appearance. This was something I hadn't done in weeks. I was frightened by my reflection in the mirror. My hair hadn't been done in weeks. I was still slicking back the same low bun from almost a month ago. There wasn't an eyelash left in my lash extensions. My eyes were sporting dark circles and sunken from exhaustion. My chin and forehead were covered in stress pimples. Had I really let this man's bullshit drain me of the energy to even take care of myself?

“Arghhh… What the fuck is happening to me?” I said, swiping everything thing off the counter onto the floor.

I stumbled backward and braced myself against the outside glass of the shower door. I was falling apart at the seams. There was no way in hell I would spend another moment crying. All I wanted was for my husband to notice me and say something.

I hadn't heard an “I love you” in weeks. We barely slept in the same bed because he was always working overtime. Even simple conversations were non-existent or interrupted by phone calls. I was tired of the same fucked up routine— wake up, work, gym, home, sleep. Terry was no longer even a part of my current life routine, and he, for damn sure, wasn't making me a part of his.

I walked out of the bathroom, feeling dizzy. I knew that meant my anxiety was about to start whooping my ass.

As I walked up to the bed, I pushed a pile of unwanted clothes out of my way. I practically threw myself on the bed. I lay back and began taking deep breaths. I needed to calm down.

After what I thought was a minute or so, I leaned up and stared at my suitcase. I was honestly so exhausted after today.

I looked down at the watch on my wrist. It read 7:34. Realizing I was running out of time, I grabbed the suitcase and zipped it quickly. I wanted to be gone well before he left work so there was no chance of us running into each other.

I stood up, holding the suitcase. I let it fall to the floor and extended the handle. I turned towards the bedroom door. All I had to do now was walk out the front door and leave.

I took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door. Walking out into the hallway, the house felt eerily quiet. Pulling the suitcase down the hall, I realized how cold it was inside the home. That meant it was even colder outside.

I left my suitcase to sit at the corner of the wall which led to the opening of the living room. I quickly turned on my heels and walked back towards the room. I practically sprinted through the open door. Walking back to the bed, I began to toss the clothes onto the floor in search of a small jacket or sweater. Once I found the top of my black velour tracksuit, I slipped it on and zipped it up.

Back on my mission, I exited the room. It was the same ordeal as before. I went back down the hall, grabbed my suitc—. Where's my suitcase? I stopped to stare at where my suitcase was supposed to be. I turned back to look down the hall. I walked into the living room and began to panic.

“Where you going?” said a male's voice. I knew that voice all too well— Terry.

I spun around to find him sitting in a recliner in the dark. I couldn't see anything but the outline of his frame. Even in this state, his energy was nerve-racking.

“Huh?” I asked, spotting my suitcase on the floor beside him.

“I mean, you walked in here and put your suitcase down like you were about to go somewhere. So, where you going?” he asked, standing from the recliner.

With that statement, I realized Terry had been here the whole time. There was no telling when he had gotten home.

“Baby girl, I asked you a question. Where you going?” he asked, crossing his arms.

From this angle, I still couldn't see him. The small amount of moonlight from the window only illuminated the bottom of his pants and shoes. I felt like I was talking to a shadow which was making this so much harder than it needed to be.

I refused to answer his question. I knew if I talked it would only lead to me stuttering like a fool.

I quickly walked across the living room and snatched the suitcase from the floor. I turned to make a beeline for the door.

“You don't think I noticed your spoiled ass pouting?” Terry asked, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“Well, you didn't act like you did!” I yelled as I turned to face him. Unbeknownst to me, Terry was now right behind me. Not a sound was made to alert me of his movements. I stood there in shock, startled by his presence.

“Why should I? You're a grown a— grown woman. You have no problem using your mouth any other time. Why didn't you this time, huh? You forgot how to communicate, love?” Terry asked, leaning down.

As much as I wanted to curse him out, I couldn't. Every emotion was raging through me all at once.

“Fuck you!” I yelled, fighting back tears of anger.

I was pissed at myself. I had planned out this whole scenario— how I would act and what I would say. It was as if everything went out the window when he was in my face.

“Simmer down, baby girl,” Terry said, kissing my forehead.

“Or, what?” I said, stomping my foot and pushing him away.

Terry stood there, glaring at me. I don't know whether he was pissed or impressed. Hell, he may have been both. I forced myself to hold eye contact, trying my hardest to stand my ground.

Terry stood to his full height and scoffed. He took a single deep breath and let his hand run over his mouth. He was clearly agitated, but I couldn't care less.

I pulled the suitcase closer to me, backing up towards the door. Terry reached out and grabbed the handle of the suitcase.

“Hey!” I yelled.

I reached out to snatch it back, but Terry was quicker. He pushed the suitcase behind his back.

“You want it, then come get it!” he said, walking towards the hallway.

“Fuck it. I don't need it,” I said, turning to walk towards the door.

I open the door halfway before Terry's hand reaches over me to slam it shut, bracing his hand against the door. I tried to pry the door open, but even with one hand, Terry was stronger than me. I yell out in frustration.

“Imma ask you one more time. Where you going?” he asked, looking down at me.

I walked back into the living room, pouting. This was clearly not going the way I planned.

“Leave me the hell alone!” I yelled, turning back to the door where Terry was standing. His body acting a blocker.

“Imma let you know this now if you walk out this door, I'm changing the damn locks. TONIGHT!” Terry shouted, pointing at the door behind him.

“You can't lock me out of my house!” I yelled, getting closer to him.

“Our house, and try me. I can, and I will!” Terry declared, crossing his arms. He widened his stance as he glared at me.

“I can't stand you!” I said, throwing my hands in the air.

“Oh, really. That's how you feel, baby girl?” he said, smirking.

“That's what the fuck I said, ain't it?” I rebutted.

“You know what? Fine, here. You wanna leave so bad. Go! Here's your chance. I'm not even gonna stop you!” he said, putting the suitcase in front of me and opening the door.

I placed my hand on the handle. I stood there unsure of what to do. Why the fuck was he just giving up like this? What the fuck was going on?

“All you gotta do is answer my question. Where you going?” he asked, stepping closer to me.

I looked back and forth between him and the floor. I didn't have an answer because I didn't plan on having to explain myself.

“I…. I… I don't know!” I yelled, stomping angrily.

“You don't even have a plan, do you?” Terry scoffed in disbelief.

“No…. So, what?” I asked desperately trying to save face.

“Of course, you don't! Give me the suitcase,” Terry said, rolling his eyes.

“No!” I yelled.

“Give it here! I ain't asking you. I'm telling you. Do you not understand the difference, baby girl?” he asked, holding his hand out.

I contemplated my next move. Truthfully, I was all out of options. I handed Terry the suitcase. He grabs the handle and lifts the suitcase in the air. He unzipped it and dumped all of my clothes on the floor. He slung the empty suitcase across the room.

I look down at the pile of clothes in disbelief. My eyes dart back up to Terry's. This man was insane.

Terry used his foot to slam the door shut. Without turning around, he reached behind him and locked the front door.

“Don't look at me. Go in the room. We need to talk before we go to bed,” he said, flexing his hands. He stood in front of me rolling his shoulders.

“We can talk right here!” I blurted. I knew that if I walked back into our bedroom, I was in for a “treat”.

“Nah, we not doing that kinda talkin'. Let's go!” he barked.

I looked at him, fighting through my thoughts. I stood in place and crossed my arms.

“Ughh!” Terry grunted and picked me up.

“No! Put me down!” I yelled, pushing at Terry's back.

He carried me out of the living room and down the hallway. Walking into the bedroom, he placed me in front of the foot of the bed.

“You got one minute to strip, or I'm ripping it off of you myself!” Terry said, standing in front of me.

“And if I don't?” I mumbled under my breath.

“You keep acting like you really got options here. I'm being polite by letting you think you do. Don't play with me, baby girl. Strip!” Terry said.

“Why do you always do this?” I asked, pouting even harder. I threw my head back in defeat.

“Do what?” Terry asked, licking his lips. His eyebrows knitted together as he waited for an answer.

“This! You always… just… I don't know. This! I can never just leave!” I shouted. I didn't know what to say.

“Take a second to think about what you just said. You do this same thing over and over again. Yet, every time you do I stop you. If I am always able to stop you, did you ever wanna leave? Love, maybe I know my wife better than she does. Maybe, I'm used to your bullshit and tantrums, baby girl,” Terry said through gritted teeth.

“I hate you,” I sulked, feeling stupid. He had me all figured out. This was pissing me off.

“You what?” Terry challenged, getting closer.

“You heard me. I fucking hate you!” I yelled in Terry's face.

“Hahaha, imma make you eat those words. I hope you know that. Tuh! You so funny, baby girl,” Terry laughed, leaning so that his forehead rested on mine. “Now, strip! Don't think I forgot. Since you wanna play games, you got 30 seconds this time,” he lulled as he stood back and crossed his arms.

I begin to strip as slowly as possible. I unzipped my jacket at a turtle’s pace and pulled the arms of my jacket off one at a time. I could see this was pissing Terry off. His face was telling it all as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

Without warning, Terry grabbed me and pushed me on the bed. Clothes be damned!

20 minutes later

I had taken my punishment of 15 spankings with pride. Honestly, that was nothing compared to what he was doing right now.

“You gone clean this shit up, right?” Terry said, pounding my pussy in.

I could feel his dick bottoming out and kissing my cervix with ease. I knew he was going to wear my ass out, but I didn't expect this. He hadn't let up since we started. He went from tearing my ass up to stuffing me with dick.

“Yes, Daddy!” I screamed out.

Every inch of his dick was being swallowed by my pussy. He didn't care that I was fighting for my life. He was too busy watching himself slide in and out of me— egotistical green-eyed bastard.

Terry grabbed the back of my legs and pushed them into my chest. My knees were practically hitting the mattress. I was feeling an intense burn in my abdomen and thick thighs from this man folding me in half.

“Baby girl just wanted some dick, huh?” he asked as his hips snapped against my already sore ass.

“Yes, I'm sorry!” I moaned out into the air.

I glance up at Terry to find him smirking at me. Terry's arms wrapped around my thighs, pulling me closer.

“Nah… You hate me. Remember?” he asked as a devilish grin spread across his face.

He flattened his body on top of me and let his full weight fall on me, pressing me into the mattress. I didn't know what this position was, but I knew it was about to fuck me up.

As if his dick was magic, this position made me feel like he was deeper than before. How? His dick couldn't grow, could it?

He rested his forehead on mine and looked into my eyes.

“Tell me you hate me, now! Come on! Go ahead! I wanna hear it!” Terry said, leaning in and kissing me softly.

Terry slowed his strokes down, punishing me. Unfortunately, I couldn't speak or think. I didn't know what he expected from me.

“Daddy, I can't!” I mewled through gritted teeth. Hot tears flowed freely down the sides of my face.

“Nah. Stop telling me what you can't do! Tell me you hate me again. I wanna hear it!” Terry said, sliding his hand around the front of my neck.

Terry applied a small amount of pressure to the front of my throat, causing me to whimper from the pressure. I was beginning to squirm under him. I couldn't focus on anything but my half-assed breathing.

“Don’t worry, love. I'm about to make you hate me,” he said, kissing me again.

He grabbed a hold of the back of my neck and pulled me onto his lap. Lifting me slightly, he reached his hand between us to enter me again. I let out a small and desperate whimper. I didn't know how much more of this I could take. (position)

“You givin’ up on me? Baby girl… Look at me. Stay focused on me,” he said, thrusting upward.

Sadly, I was too fucked out to fuck back. It was as if all of the power and energy he had left was being used against me right now. His hands gripped the underside of my ass tightly. Using this as leverage, he would lift me a little and let me drop down into his thrusts.

I promise you from this day forward I will never tell this man I hate him again. The sound coming from our skin slapping together was deafening and thunderous. I couldn't believe the amount of energy this man still had. My pussy was gonna love hate me later.

“Daddy wants your apology to be as loud as your disrespect! Let me hear it!” he shouted, pulling my hair so that my face was pointed at the ceiling.

It was clear to me that this was purely punishment for me and amusement for him.

“You wanna cum, baby girl?” Terry asked, kissing all over my face.

“Yes, Daddy!” I groaned, falling into him.

“Then, I better hear my goddamn apology! Come on! You better not cum before I get it either!” Terry said, licking the side of my neck.

I honestly could have cum from that alone. I moaned out in a whimper. His hands released from my body, but I knew better than to think he was done. He grabbed my waist and flipped me over. Using one hand, he pulled me back onto him and into a kneeling position. His chest now rested against my back.

“Don't move,” he whispered in my ear, kissing my shoulders and neck.

Entering me again with ease, he wrapped one hand around my throat while holding my body taut to his. In this position, I could feel every breath he took.

“Now, what did I say? You can't cum until you apologize, right?” he taunted.

His thrusts became slow and intentional. It was evident that Terry had a point to make, and he was going to drive it home whether I could handle it or not.

As if he could hear my thoughts, his other hand found my clit. He began rubbing and stroking along the underside of it. I felt like I was physically melting.

Before he could say another word, I began to speak. “I'm sorry, Daddy. I don't… ahh… fuck… I don't hate you. Please!” I screamed into the air.

I was being fucked into submission clearly because instead of letting up, he went harder. His fingers began to rub my clit even faster, his other hand tightened around my throat, and his stroke became more vicious. I was falling and fast. My ears were ringing and listening was becoming impossible.

“Nah… Say… that… shit… louder. Come on!” he said, enunciating with every thrust.

I gasped and drew in a deep breath, causing me to cough.

I could finally feel the beginning signs of his orgasm, which meant relief was near. However, I knew Terry could hold off as long as he needed or wanted to.

“Please, Daddy! I’m sorry. I’ll never… ahh.. I’ll never say it again. Please, just let me cum!” I yelled even louder than the first time.

I was struggling to catch my breath at this point. I was so close. I could feel the muscles of my pussy tightening around Terry’s dick like a boa constrictor, and the pressure building up in my abdomen had reached its peak.

Pulling me back into a kiss, Terry spoke low and directly into my ear. “Cum! Now! You… got… this,” he said in between kisses.

With a potency laced with pleasure, I released the biggest flood I ever had. My legs began to shake, and my body fell forward. Terry instantly tightened his hold on me, forcing me to stay up. I couldn't feel my legs. I wanted nothing more than to sleep, preferably under him.

“Oh, baby. We’re almost done. Let Daddy finish,” Terry rumbled into my ear.

It wasn't like I had a choice anyway. He clearly wasn't stopping. He let go of my body, letting me fall forward with his dick still inside me. Of course, he would finish like this. His favorite position is doggy style. Placing one hand on my upper back, his hips dipped with every thrust. Miraculously, I felt the need to cum again. I wasn't even going to ask for permission with this one. Hell, I couldn't.

“That’s right, baby. Now, tell Daddy what we learned?” Terry demanded.

I pressed my face into the mattress because how in the hell was he expecting me to speak? Pulling my head up by my hair and undoing the last remnants of what was supposed to be a bun, he positioned me on all fours.

“Talk! I need to know that this ain't gone ever happen again. Because in this house, we respect Daddy, right?” he said, slowing his strokes again.

‘Ahhh, fuck… Yes, we… Daddy respect!” I yelled drunkenly.

“Awww, listen to my baby. You so dick dumb, right now. Daddy’s dick fuckin’ you up, huh?” he asked, pounding into me slowly.

All I could do was respond with a low yes and moan, causing Terry to let out a ragged laugh.

“Mmmm… cumming, now!” I yelled.

“Daddy is too. Don’t move!” he said, gripping my hip and pushing me deeper into the mattress.

Terry’s climax crashed with mine. His cum and mine flooded my pussy. The intense combination of fluids forced Terry out of me. I fell forward on the bed, immediately laying flat on my stomach. My body was exhausted and sore. I crashed into recovery mode as my eyes immediately shut. I was practically half-asleep as soon as my body hit the bed.

Terry laughed behind me. “And what did we learn?” Terry asked, stepping backward off the bed.

“Mmm… We don't disrespect, Daddy. I'm sorry. I love you,” I mumbled.

“That’s what the fuck I thought,” Terry said, smacking my ass.

The lesson of today is that I’m not going any-fuckin’-where.😉

Taglist: @persethegawd @pocketsizedpanther @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @episodes-ff @megamindsecretlair @mymindisneverhere @writingsbytee @brattyfics @avoidthings @keyaho @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @onherereading @nayaesworld @phuckyoreblogs @venusincleo @1darknymph @insertcatchynamerighthere @honeytoffee @mitruscity @ladypegusus-blog @lettersofgold @jimmybutlrr @5headsupremacist @blowmymbackout @babybratzmaraj @insidefeelingofanadult @kirayuki22 @ariiijestertheklown @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @gg-trini @vivaalenaa @slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @4pfsukuna @pinkpantheris @talkswithdesi @helloncrocs @dxddykenn @simplyzeeka @theglamclosetsl @melaninadorned

[avocado-writing]

Not sure if this is enough to go off of but I loved the poly!poolverine fic where they rescued the reader. I was wondering if we could get some more of them being protective of the reader 🙏🏻

The bar is pretty crowded tonight. You nurse a rum and coke and hope Logan and Wade are able to find you in the corner booth you managed to snag, because you know the second you go to order another some opportunistic patrons will take your spot - and you’ve been on your feet all day at work so there’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen.

You take a sip. It’s warm now, ice long since melted in the heat of the room. You grimace at the taste as someone slides onto the bench next to you. 

It is not one of your boys. 

“Hey, baby.”

He’s big. Kinda guy who goes to the gym every day big, which isn’t inherently bad - but from the way he uses his size to press up against you there’s a little bit of unease rising in your chest. He puts his elbow on the table so that he can rest his jaw in his hand, biceps flexing in the tight shirt he wears. 

“I’m waiting for someone,” you say, as calmly as you can, hoping this will deter him. It does not. 

“So? We can have a little talk, can’t we? Not hurting anybody.”

His hand goes to cover yours where it rests on the table. You snatch it back. He frowns. 

“Dunno who you’re waiting for, but they probably shouldn’t have left you here alone. Looks like they don’t care about you, honey.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, annoyed, deciding it’s not worth it. He won’t go so you will. You slide out the free side of the booth - but you’re forced to stop when he grabs your wrist. 

“I wasn’t done talking to you yet,” he says. Okay. Now you’re panicking. You manage to shake yourself free of his grasp and quickly push through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd. No such luck. He knows where you’re heading. 

The air is cold on the street as you speed up; not running, never running, that might incite a chase. He’s on your heels anyway. 

“Hey, are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”

“I told you I’m not interested!”

He grabs you again, harder this time. A grip you can’t break free from. 

“You know, you should learn not to be such a bitch —”

“Oh! Isn’t this fun! Sorry to interrupt this little show of misogyny in action but it’d be great if you could let go of our pookie.”

You’ve never been more relieved to hear Wade’s voice. Suddenly you’ve got someone either side of you: the brick which is Logan on your left, and the snark which is Wade on your right. 

The guy who’s holding you does not drop your arm. He frowns. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“They’re who I was waiting for,” you say quickly, as if this will deter him. The man laughs, loudly, cruelly.

“Sorry, you’re in some kinda threesome with this old fucker and whatever this dude is? Fuck, honey, you really need someone to show you what a real man—”

He does not get a chance to finish. Logan’s fist has collided with his face with such ferocity you can hear his nose break. The man yelps and staggers backwards, you bring your hand to your chest for safety. 

“Should’ve let go, bub,” he mutters, massaging his knuckles. Wade deflates. 

“Aw, I wanted to get the first hit in!” He peers over at where the guy is laid out flat. “Go on, get back up. If I don’t throw a punch it emasculates me, and I’m very sensitive about it.”

You roll your eyes, tugging at his sleeve. 

“Let’s just go, guys. I don’t think he’s gonna follow us.”

“One sec.”

Wade strolls over and puts his boot on the guy’s chest, pushing down until he’s wheezing.

“You wanna apologise?”

The guy groans out a sorry, and you give a curt nod when Wade turns to see if you’ve accepted it.

“Don’t do this bullshit again, with anyone, or I’m gonna find you, rip your dick off, then feed it to my adorable, hideous dog.”

They cage in around you as your turn, two loyal hounds at your beck and call. You throw a couple of glances over your shoulder as you leave but it’s as you suspected: the guy remains on the cold concrete. When you’re far enough away to feel safe they slow to a stop. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, lifting your chin with a finger so that he can get a good look at you. You nod. 

“Yeah. Thanks for being there in time.”

“I’m sorry baby, we should have got here earlier, but peanut here tore a guy’s arm off so we had to go and clean up first—”

“Oh god, stop,” you say, pulling a face. You don’t want to know about their line of work, very happy for the business and personal life gulf to be a wide one. “Let’s go get some pizza and head home.”

“Anything you want,” says Logan, squeezing your hand. 

Anything where you’re between them is what you want. Safe and happy, they’ll make sure you’re both. 

[beansprean]

I POSTED THIS ON PATREON MONDAY MORNING. THIS IS AT LEAST HALF A DODGEBALL.

i would have posted it here immediately after the ep but i hadnt written the id yet dkfhdkj

Support me on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

iD: 1a. Aerial black and white view of the vampire house, or what's left of it. Bits of the walls and the front porch are still standing, but the rest has been blown away by an apparent explosion. The remains smoke heavily as a stream of water from an off-screen fire truck pours into what used to be the library. In the yard, Colin and the Guide are kneeling over the headless body of the monster, Colin holding up his severed head. Laszlo is holding his witch's skin hat to his head while Nadja screams at him. Nandor and Guillermo are sitting side by side on the porch steps. Everyone save Laszlo is covered in ash and soot, hair burnt and clothes torn in various places. Guillermo says, "I can't believe Cannon Capital was just a Simon the Devious scheme all along." 1b. Zoom in, full body of Nandor and Guillermo on the ruined porch, the house behind them full of holes and cracks and missing bricks, glass blown out of the window frames still intact. Nandor is looking over at Guillermo with concern. Guillermo slumped over his knees, continues depressingly, "I tried so hard... I really thought I had found what I was meant to do. But it was all supernatural bullshit again. I just can't escape the vampire world." 1c. Close up on Guillermo from Nandor's POV as Nandor asks, "Do you want to?" Guillermo sighs resignedly, eyes closed, and replies, "Nandor, we talked about this. I'm a human, I can't just-" 1d. Reverse shot of Nandor scowling at Guillermo and flicking his hand out dismissively. He interrupts, "Why not? Who says it is a vampire-only club here?" 1e. Full body of them both. Guillermo glares over at Nandor and responds flatly, "You did. Repeatedly." Nandor clasps his hands together in his lap and looks away archly, saying, "I don't recall that." He then mumbles under his breath, "I can always turn you again if it's that big a deal..." 1f. Bust of Guillermo as he turns to face Nandor fully, hands out in desperation, and cries, "I couldn't hack it as a vampire!!" 1g. Repeat. Guillermo turns back to face the yard and chops his hands decisively in the air, expression set and stubborn. He says, "I chose to be a human, so I have to live a human life."

2a. Reverse shot, shoulders up of Nandor. Guillermo continues from offscreeen, "That means no vampires, no slaying, no bababooks-" Nandor tosses his hand up again and interrupts with a frustrated groan, "Agh, these are fake rules, Guillermo! Made up!! No one is holding you to this except you!" 2b. Reverse shot of Guillermo looking pained, leaning away from Nandor and looking toward the ground, brow furrowed. Nandor continues from offscreen, "You can do whatever you want! Be whoever and whatever you want." 2c. Repeat. Guillermo's expression softens as Nandor's hand comes into frame to grip his shoulder, looking back up at Nandor with hesitation. Nandor says, "And if what you want is to be here with us, human or otherwise..." 2. Wide shot of Nandor, waist up, smiling gently with hooded eyes at Guillermo in the foreground, who is turned from the viewer to face him. Nandor finishes his sentence, "You will always have a home here." Behind him, we can see the other characters in the yard. Nadja has Laszlo by the throat and has lifted him up off the ground to shake him like a ragdoll while he struggles to hold his hat to his head. She is in the middle of screaming, "and your stupid fucking hat!" Further back, The Guide and Colin have stood up, the former with half her hair burnt off and looking up in concern at the monster's detached head, which Colin is holding aloft with a relieved smile. The monster is alive and looks back at Colin, assuring him "Little glue...fix right up."

3a. Waist up of them both on the porch. Left hand still on Guillermo's shoulder, Nandor breaks their eye contact to shrug with his other arm and roll his eyes upward, clarifying, "Well, metaphorically. This one exploded." Guillermo smiles at him fondly. 3b. Shoulders up of Guillermo from Nandor's POV, smiling bashfully as he looks down at Nandor's hand on his shoulder. He says, "I'll... I'll think about it." Nandor squeezes his shoulder and replies, "Great!" 3c. Zoom out to full body. Nandor stands up on the stairs and leans down to help Guillermo up, clasping both of his hands in his. "In the meantime, perhaps we can all stay in the shed with you so we don't shrivel into little crispy nuggets in a few hours?" he asks with a sheepish grin. Guillermo laughs back at him as he braces himself to be hoisted to his feet, replying, "Okay, temporarily, though."

4. Wide shot in full color of Guillermo and all his former housemates sitting crammed together on his mattress in the shed, looking over his shoulder as he browses on his laptop. They are all cleaned up and wearing Guillermo's clothes. The Guide, hair now cropped in a curly bob and wearing no makeup and a dark blue sweater that hangs dangerously low, leans in from the back with a grin, pointing over Laszlo and Nadja's shoulders to point at the laptop screen. She says, "Ooh, what about this 1899 colonial mansion? Very modern." Colin is next to her directly behind Guillermo, holding the monster's head up between them so he can see. The monster grumbles, "Ugh, need more personality on exterior." Colin, wearing some kind of glittery gold button up that Guillermo didn't even know he owned, grins and says, "Heated pool, eh? I can start up my water aerobics again." Nandor, slav squatting on Guillermo's left and wearing a too-short green sweater, sweatpants, and heart patterned socks, leans into Guillermo and points at the screen, demanding, "Guillermo, I wish to see the 3D rendering of the 'sun room' torture chamber!" Guillermo, sitting with his legs stretched out in his blue striped pajama set and black socks, smiles contentedly as he taps at the keyboard, responding, "This one is in an HOA anyway, we don't want that kind of scrutiny." Nadja is sitting on Guillermo's left with her arms propped up on one raised knee, wearing no makeup and the PUNY hoodie over her black slip and a pair of Guillermo's pink socks. She scowls and ducks her head as the monster's dislodged neck drifts into her space, snapping, "Colin Robinson, get that thing's face out of my face!" Laszlo, wearing a red v neck sweater and rolled up brown chinos, sits on Nadja's other side, leaning his weight on the arm he has propped behind her on the bed. His other hand is holding the brim of The Hat behind his leg. Laszlo gazes forlornly at the laptop and sighs, "If only Toby were here... Do you think we could get on '100-Day Dream Home?' /end ID