#take the pencil and write under my name

[lheautontimoroumenos]

this was originally tags under a gifset of mine but I felt it was getting a bit too long so here we go.

I have so much to say about “oh is the sad little sidekick mad?” line in the jackieshauna argument in 110.

Jackie is so strongly taunting Shauna during the first part of the fight. She's poking and poking until Shauna answers and when she does she's fully gobsmacked.

"Is the sad little sidekick mad" is just so Shauna. Especially then but I think it's even true now. She's not quite the same sidekick anymore because Jackie's dead but she doesn't stand on her own either. She's a housewife, fills her days with her responsibilities to her family, she never fulfilled her teenage dreams of studying.

But she's also still Jackie's sidekick: she's married to Jeff, Jackie's mom compares them all the time, everytime someone speaks of Jackie they're speaking of Shauna. They are inseparable in the truest sense of the word.

And god is she mad. She's been mad for so long too. I think first of all she's angry at herself, deep down. For sleeping with Jeff, for lying to Jackie about it and Brown, for resenting Jackie and their friendship, for being the reason she died.

But then closer to the surface, she's angry at everyone else all the time. It's all Jeff's fault (the blackmail and the cheating), her daughter's a bitch and talks back, tai left her to join Lottie club and hired a journalist to look into her life, Nat became the leader and stile her hard-earned right, Lottie's the reason her baby's dead everyone's taking her for granted

She's a sidekick: she doesn't know how not to be codependent because the last time she let someone go Jackie died. She's mad: they actually go hand in hand, she holds onto people and things so tight that if anything moves in any unplanned way she has to kill it. Kill it before it kills itself, rather she decides when it leaves her than it leave her out of the blue when she's not prepared. Everything has to be under control, her control, or it's dangerous and will become the object of her anger.

[phone4pills]

PENCIL SKIRT dad!Matt x nanny!Reader

smut, back shots, standing doggy, mirror sex, degradation, breeding kink

The bathroom mirror reflected each tear on your face, as if to mock you for being so sensitive. Each pull on your hair, each harsh and merciless thrust had your insides twisting and turning. “Mr Sturniolo-” You chocked out his name, your grip hardening around the edge of the bathroom sink, the porcelain ceramic being the only thing keeping you grounded.

Meanwhile, Matthew Sturniolo didn’t hold back. He grunted, grabbing your hip with the hand that wasn’t buried in your hair. Your knees were almost completely useless, and if it weren’t for your position, bent over the sink, you did not think you’d still be standing on your two feet. Your usually neat, black pencil skirt was rolled up to you waist and your panties hung low around your heels.

White pre-cum leaked from Matt’s tip into your warmth, dripping on the floor every split-second he pulled out before burying his length within you again. “So wet f’me, yeah? Not very professional of you, is it?” Your eyelids closed tight, ears catching each groan that rippled from his throat. “Is it, y/n?!” Matthew asked again, more sternly. You shook you head quickly. He picked up his pace, slamming into you harder than ever. “Be a good girl and use those words, hm?”

“No… not p-profes- ahh.” A breathy moan escaped your lips when he bottomed out, bruising your cervix. Each callous noise increased in volume, until Matthew was pulling his hand out of your hair to cover your mouth, slapping your cheek slightly. “Shh, don’t want the girls to hear, do we now?” You shook your head again, mumbling a ‘nuh uh’ before he chuckled. You looked pathetic, your mascara was a black mess under your eyes and your mouth hung slack.

Your clit was rubbing against the cold surface of the counter, giving you more pleasure than you thought you could handle. The tightness in your stomach began to break loose, and Matthew knew because your eyes rolled back into your head. Your back arched into his grip and soon enough, you came undone, turning into a moaning mess. But Matt kept going, chasing his own high.

“M- Matt…” You whispered into his palm. He didn’t like it. His hand landed a slap on your ass. “You know not to call me that. So naughty… you don’t deserve this do ya?”

You found your head shaking again, submitting to his viciously laced words. “Say it, y/n. Look in the mirror and say it.” You struggled to hold eye contact with yourself in the reflective glass framed on the wall in front of you. Nevertheless, you abided. “I d-don’t deserve this!” Your words were slightly muffled but they were enough to have Matthew tipping over the edge. As his cock started to twitch inside of you, he hissed.

“You want me to fill you up with my babies?” Leaning in to speak next to your ear, his voice was sickeningly sweet. You nodded giving him a hoarse ‘yes please’ before his movements came to a halt and Matthew pumped you full of his white fluids.

You straightened down your skirt, taking a deep breath, and laid Matt’s warm towel on the counter, folded neatly. He’d gotten to his shower in the end, letting the hot steam roam the air, fogging up the mirror. “Tell the girls to get dressed. Think m’gonna take them out to get ice cream.” His relaxed voice reverberated off the walls of the space. And with that, you left, shutting the door behind you.

Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack

This is probably my last piece of smut for a while, no nut November is coming up and I gotta lock in with some fluff and angst. Love this AU to death, might write more for it in the future but until then you can see other Matt fics in my MASTERLIST. Thanks for reading!

- ©phone4pills

[simp-ly-writes]

Say You'll Love Me

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.6)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Assistant!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: From the Arcane fucking with his mind, people he thought to trust turning their backs on him and Piltover looking up to him for salvation... the only thing Jayce wants? you.

─ · · THE FOLLOWING CONTENT IS BETWEEN CONSENTING ADLUTS AND IS NOT MEANT FOR ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18. skip the smut once seeing the star! ⭐️ tags under cut

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective!Jayce (low-key possessive in some parts), kissing, depictions of blood, gore, war and death. brief mentions of suicidal thoughts and torture. fluff, hurt/comfort, angst. smut: pinv sex, oral (fem receiving), dom!Jayce, chocking, marking/biting, size kink?, dirty talk, overstim, aftercare.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,585 | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

─ · · A/N: This is my first time EVER writing long-form smut... please be kind I was so embarrassed while writing this lol (hoping its not too shit) 🙈

─────── · ·

─ · · drip... drip... drip... water slowly fell from a corner of the ceiling in your cold cell, you hugged your knees to your chest, chair wobbling as you shivered. The lights were too bright to sleep and with what little food they expected you to work off of, you were scrambling for answers.

─ · · Everyday you tried to explain to the guards that you were only the assistant, could only work with your scientists. The last time you had conducted personal research was when apply to the academy yet nobody believed you, a slap to the face as they told you to work harder. Your hands shook around the barrel of a gun as you twisted on the scope- you looked at the blueprints one last time and then fired it at the wall.

The guards did not budge just listening to the bang echo, blankly watching as you fell backwards form the impact. The burst of magic coming out unstable and crumbling bits of the stone wall... fuck! you muttered underneath your breath. Using the end of the gun like a cane to help pick yourself up before stumbling back to the drawing board.

Hextech was not going to work, there was no metal strong enough to correct the blast... but what if it was not meant to hold... what if it exploded? You shook your head, disturb that you had even thought about it yet a hand shook the bars to your cell, your head whipping over, eyes wide as Ambessa looked down upon you. "Whatever it is that came though your mind, make it and you will be allowed out for a moment. Is that a deal?"

You looked down at your hands, holding them together as you nodded, waiting for her to leave before turning back around. You listened as the elevator doors closed but a new voice stopped your movements. "Please, just follow her words. It'll make everything easier," you gasped seeing the officer you shared a night with emerge from the shadows. His eyes sunken, scar across his cheek.

You winced, his name leaving your mouth as he nodded, "still as beautiful as that night," he said to you and you pulled your sleeves further down your arms. "I mean it," he adds, hands resting on the bars of your cell. "release me," you asked gently, hope bleeding in your wide eyes. He stared at you, mouth opening and closing before shaking his head.

You turned back around, going back to your desk yet he continued to speak even as another guard warned him, "I can't, not unless they find another person with the knowledge you have. They need these weapons for the oncoming war..."

"They don't need weapons," you scoff, pencil snapping in two, "just like we don't need war... people just want the quickest results." No one speaks another word as you disassemble the shotgun, breaking it down into smaller parts as the darkest parts of your mind comes to the surface... I refuse to be the one that places this land in destruction... I refuse.

─────── · ·

─ · · With the rune taking its place within his forearm his tattoo on the other, he was the polar opposites of what Hextech could do... of what it had done to the people he was closest to and loved the most.

─ · · Acting on what was beyond his mortal brain and body, Jayce was felt as if he was falling from the sky, his brain a blur of the horrors he had just seen mixing with reality just as he slammed down on Salo's figure. He staggered and stumbled afterwards, the voices still unpleased, demanding he go to Viktor's sanctuary where Jayce did not even recognizing the familiar faces he saw, he was determined to eliminate Viktor. To shoot him down, to watch as his body hit the floor, to see if he still bled.

─ · · The world went silent as soon as the shot happened as if a sound barrier went through the houses and homes before a thousand cries sounded and all of Viktor's followers fell to the floor, unmoving. Jayce fell forwards, his strength gone, vision clearing as he stared with wide eyes observing Jayce. His mind was still buzzing a voice demanding for him to continue brutalizing the corpse yet he held his arcane hammer. Forcing his muscles to freeze. Viktor still was his partner, a cold bucket of water feels like it spills over his skin, clarity in his mind that immediately goes to you.

─────── · ·

─ · · Piltover is cheering as he emerges from the sewers, he cannot find it in himself to smile or react, simply watching as the crowd parts. The cheers dying into gasps as they observe the scars across his chest, the torn white uniform and his unruly appearance. His hammer groans behind him, the arcane still unsettled as it picks and pries at his memories, trying to regain control yet without seeing you, there was no hope in hell he was allowing any force to come between him and you.

─ · · Jayce only stops once seeing that little girl again hiding behind her fathers legs, she appears so much older now as Jayce presses a hand to his forehead, pulling back his hair- eyes gone wide. Had he been gone that long? Had you already given up on him? Jayce would forgive you, it wouldn't be fair if you hadn't waited for him yet a large part of him prayed so... he wanted nothing more to kiss you, to feel his skin against your skin, to hear you call out his name. Jayce's boots picked up their pace as he was a one-track mind, determined to get to the lab where he last left you.

─ · · His hands gripped his hammer, his eyes hardened as he bursted into the lab, his eyes searching, weapon swinging as his heart dropped... you were not here. Jayce's hammer fell with a thud, cracking the floors as he yelled your name, spinning in circles as he looked towards the ceiling and all the dark corners of the room. Jayce chuckled, shaking his head as he saw blood all over your leftover journals. Your always organized tools sprayed out across Viktor's desk you both promised not to touch, a chair flipped over and then... he looked under his desk and felt sick.

He could see where your nails had dug into the wood, scratching, he could hear you begging and pleading as his fingers brushed over the marks. With a broken sob, Jayce fell to his knees, forcing a fist into his mouth as he choked but no tears fell. His shoulder began to shake, his muscles tensing as he yelled out in frustration, throwing everything off the desk watching it shatter against the floor, "Fuck!"

Jayce took a series of deep breaths before storming to his hammer, allowing it to drag against the floors as sparks followed his footsteps. He felt his side start to bleed again, he would treat himself, he was not that far removed in his anger to endanger you further... no he would prepare and then he would allow himself to enjoy the blood across his face and the weight of you on his chest.

─────── · ·

─ · · "Kiramman!" Jayce shouted, storming into Caitlyn's house. The blue haired woman did not turn, her long blue coat rested upon her shoulders as her gaze while looking at Jinx's face on the board, she had to continue playing her role up until the final moment. "That is general to you," she said turning around before seeing a familiar blue glow and Jayce's hammer charged- the words dying on her lips as she held her palms up calmly, "Jayce," she warned watching as the mans eyes hardened. His face appeared more aged, his clothes form fitting in a deep green button up and black trousers.

A soft glow coming from his forearm had her raising a brow as Jayce chest heaved, "where's my girl, Kiramman?" he spoke coldly, fixing his grip, the leather of his gloves groaning as Caitlyn took a few steps forward. "I have been searching for her as well, Jayce. I have a feeling it has something to do with Mel's mother."

Jayce remembers her stare as you sat in the medical tent together... those events seemed so distant now. Jayce cracks his neck, his arms tensing as Caitlyn slightly flitches, trying to hold her ground. Jayce stares her down, daring her to lie but Cait only spoke the truth. The man nods, powering down his stance before leaning against his hammer, "How far has the search gone? How do you know she's with Ambessa? How can I know to trust you?"

Caitlyn sighs, removing her hat, arms crossing over her chest, shotgun leaning against her desk as she stares at the gemstone within it, rattling around in its cage. Jayce follows her stare, his eyes widening, the voices in his head threatening to rise to the surface. He shakes his head, physically trying to remove them with a growl.

"I am her friend as I am your's Jayce. Had I had known this is what Ambessa was planning... I would have never sided with her. The gemstone has been unstable since (name) has been taken, I assume it has something to do with her playing around with magic to appease the tyrant," Caitlyn explains, picking at her nails before looking up at Jayce, "Now how do I know to trust you with the rest of the information? Are you sure she'll want to see you more animal than man?"

Jayce glares, "I am still a man, perhaps more than I had been in the past-"

"That was not my question, Jayce," the General cuts the Councillor off, "I was asking, are you ready if she does not want you back?"

─────── · ·

─ · · You could hear shouting again and rolled your eyes, assuming the red guard to be training once again yet a part of you swore to hear Jayce's voice roaring, the sound of his mechanical hammer wizzing with magic- you stood up from your chair as did your assigned guards. Maybe it was just imaginative hope...

You could hear their weapons click on as you picked up the last gemstone you hadn't used and hid in a corner of the cell. Whoever was coming was leaving a trail of destruction that you did not want to see nor be a part of.

You listened to the trail of blood and guts becoming closer, bodies thudding to the floor as you closed your eyes, hugging yourself, making yourself smaller as you pleaded for it all to be over. In all honesty, you realized just how safe this cage allowed you to be. It saved you from Ambessa's lashings, saved you from the eyes of the guards when you hid in the shadows... and then you could hear your assigned officer stuttering, metal shattering with a slam, your door being swung open.

You listened, squeezing your eyes shut as laboured breaths echoed in the cold air, heard as their boots walked up to your desk, moving papers gently before picking up your unfinished models, a thoughtful hum sounding before they turned around abruptly. Another slam was heard, blue dimming as you held your breath.

The metal chair you spent so much time on groaned as it was pulled out and away from the table before... nothing, they must have sat down... why? You opened your eyes slowly, trying to squint through the darkness, your breaths shallow- "I can see your boots, sweetheart, come, now," You hear a deep strained voice commands as you feel their stare on your face.

You push your hands against the stone walls, helping yourself to stand as you take a half step into the light, just enough to see whoever is at the other side... Jayce? Jayce! Your eyes see your lover before you as he sits utterly exhausted yet eyes wild; sweat dripping down his forehead, his lips parted as he inhales deeply, tipping his head back. Broad shoulders rising and falling with his shirt as he stares at you, legs spread lazily- one encased in metal.

You blink once... twice... thrice. Your throat dry as you try and comprehend how he is here... you start to look away, eyes catching drops of blood across the concrete floors, you start to follow the trail before Jayce calls for you again, "don't look over there. Come here, please," he adds a bit more softly this time, his palm facing upwards on his thigh, fingers wiggling in leather to entice you.

You take a few steps closer, still unsure if this was your Jayce as you stand just barley within reach. You watch as his hazel eyes drink in your appearance and form, starting from your shoes, up to your waist, chest, and then settles of your features. His eyes caress your face in a loving stare, you can feel the warmth in his gaze hidden underneath his cold exterior, your cheeks warm as you grab your arm.

"Jayce?" you ask timidly, you watch as his eyes darken as you say his name before closing, a small smile appearing as his head hangs low -swaying. "Jayce?" you ask again, a bit of panic in your tone as you rush to stand in front of him. You gasp once feeling him grip the back of your thighs, squeezing gently. He opens his eyes, looking up through his long lashes at you with nothing short of adoration, "I've missed hearing my name between your lips."

Your mouth gapes as your mind goes blank, eyes staring widely into his own- listening to him chuckle as his hands slide up over your butt to your lower back before pushing gently for you to take a seat on his lap. Your hands start to shake, brain exploding by the hundred senses you experience as his thumb draws circles upon your hip, his chin resting on your shoulder, beard scratching at your skin as you squirm by the heat of his breath. He grips your hips, taking a sharp intake of air, he bites his lip, concealing his moan, "Can I kiss you?"

You place your hands on his chest, a palm feeling his heart beating rapidly just like yours before you feel around to his back and grip his shoulders pulling him in for a hug. You close your eyes, sobbing into the crook of his neck and shoulder as he holds you closely, shushing you gently. You squeeze your thighs and arms against him, trying to get closer, to feel that he was not just a dream, "Yes."

─────── · · ⭐️

Jayce being aware of his strength gives you a tight squeeze, listening to you gasp before he slowly lets go and presses a kiss to your shoulder. You lean your head to the side, exposing your neck- feeling as Jayce's fingers comb your hair aside. Next you feel his mouth leave open wet kisses trailing from your shoulder slowly up to just above your collarbone before moving to a place on your neck that has you scratching his back from the sensitivity.

You feel Jayce's smirk against your skin, he bites down playfully hearing you yelp but before you can turn your head to glare, he blows on the spot gently before sucking on the sore skin. Your entire body shakes, "Jayce," you breathily say his name, eyes closing from the thousand tickles that go up to your brain as you collapse against his chest, you tap his back thrice, Jayce pulls away with a satisfied hum, admiring the mark.

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder, hand reaching to pull his shirts collar aside as you quickly kiss up his neck eager to feel his lips against yours. A sudden slap against your butt has you pulling your head back as you see Jayce playfully glaring at you, "eager little thing, aren't you?"

"Jayce," you whine out, shaking your head and pulling away- suddenly feeling embarrassed, eyes looking anywhere but at him. Seeing your shyness, Jayce braces you against his chest with his forearm against your back, your chests pressed up against one another; he knows how eye contact effects you, allowing your eyes to reset as you looked around the room, enjoying his touch.

A few moments pass before you feel his lips by your ear as his other hand plays with your hair, "I want us to enjoy this, we have time, sweetheart." You nod as Jayce moves his hold back to your waist, his head tilting as you press a tentative kiss to a vein, listening to him hum in approval before continuing, slower this time.

You press kisses up his neck, biting just behind his ear to hear him growl. Your thighs clench at the sound, your hands gripping his hair as you feel a large palm place a gentle pressure at the back of your head, keeping you on that one spot before allowing you to pull away with hooded eyes.

Jayce licks his lips, chest heaving, his eyes watching your puffy lips part in a silent ask before he leans forwards, pressing hard as you moan against his lips. Your hands start to unbutton his shirt, feeling his skin against your palms before shrugging off your lab coat. Your brain feels foggy from the lack of air as you start to pull away, feeling as Jayce softly bites down on your lower lip before letting go.

You pause, seeing the scars against his chest, your finger hovering over before you feel leather against your wrist as he pushes your hand over the mark. You don't move, looking to Jayce for clarity, "I'm still the man you knew before, I promise." You can sense an equal truth and pleading to his tone.

"Do they hurt?" you ask softly, Jayce shakes his head, "not anymore. It feels good when you touch me actually." You laugh, shaking your head feeling as Jayce kissing your jaw, "I missed that sound too." Your heart swells as you trace the lines and contours of his chest. "I love you, Jayce."

"I love you too, so please, let me show you." Your eyes go wide, your brain returning to you as you feel as Jayce touch loosens on you his eyes widening too, "I mean we don't have to, I just-" you place a hand on his mouth, eyes shinning with humour. "Jayce, I'm not going to let you fuck me in a cell with corpses on the other side."

Jayce kisses your palm, you remove your touch. "First rude, I thought I taught you not to do that." You roll your eyes, feeling him tap your thigh in warning as you sigh. "Second, what corpses?"

You look over and to your shock, there is not a body in sight, "While I was waiting for you, Caitlyn and her team cleared and cleaned everything up," Jayce explains as you look back at him in shock. "And third," You could not believe the sass was still in him. "I never 'fuck' you, I make love to you." You begin to gag but see that Jayce is completely serious in saying this, "I mean it, (name). I love you and only want to show you that."

You look into his eyes before giving him a kiss, hearing him sigh out in relief. "Is that a yes?" you nod. "I need to hear it from you," Jayce clarifies. You take his face between your palms, "Yes, Jayce. I-I trust you." Jayce tilts his head, kissing your palm. "I might be a bit rough, but you know how to stop me, right?" You look over his dishevelled appearance again. Seeing his long hair sticking to his forehead, the lines across his face and chest, the feeling of leather against your skin.

"Three taps or shout hex." Jayce nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead, "Good girl." You shift in his lap, "That still does it for you, huh?" You don't respond and Jayce takes that as his answer with a smirk before gripping your thighs and standing. You rest your head on his shoulder before he places you on the desk and shoves everything off- clattering to the floor.

You watch as Jayce fully removes his shirt while looking down at you, unable to help himself he kisses you once before pulling away. He places his shirt on the desk before helping you out of your clothes being sure to kiss every patch of new skin he sees.

You feel warm underneath his dark stare as he looks down watching as his hand cups your sex- his thumb nears your clit through the material, resting just above, teasing, feeling as your wetness soaks through the fabric before pulling the material upwards sharply. You gasp from the friction, pressing your legs together with a moan before feeling your thighs become forced open, large hands gripping them apart. Jayce slowly bends down, his eyes focusing on how yours cloud over in pleasure as you feel his breath.

Your hands immediately latch onto his hair at the first feeling of his tongue giving a tentative lick, light yet the texture rough, you tilt your head back with a moan, body buzzing from the pleasure as he kisses your lower lips again and again. "P-please," you beg, locking your ankles over his shoulders and sigh contently once feeling the cloth get pulled aside, his touch amplified as one of his large fingers tease your entrance another circling around your clit- spelling out runes that your foggy mind couldn't even begin to concentrate on.

Jayce groans, he slowly pushes his finger deeper inside, the material of his gloves catching your walls- creating a pleasurable texture against as you clench down yet. He pumps his fingers at a slow pace, in an out, you should be embarrassed be the lewd sounds, by hearing Jayce chuckle. But when you try and move your hips- chasing his touch he pulls away swiftly, your legs falling off his shoulders as you pout at your boyfriend watching as he brings a finger up between his lips with a sigh, "I've missed this taste so much- so sweet."

You moan watching as me brings his fingers back down, your juices soaking through the leather of his gloves, his fingers glistening as he brings them closer to you mouth, taping your lip, signalling you to open, "Taste yourself."

You lower your jaw, feeling his fingers against your tongue before circling around them. Jayce observes you face as your eyes close, hands gripped your thighs in want while listening to Jayce's heavy breathing. You wiggle in your seat as Jayce pushes his fingers in more, teasing at the back of your throat as you gag before pulling out. "Such a good girl," he praises you.

But before you can respond, Jayce teases one large finger, then two. You grip at his wrist, feeling his lips leave lingering wet kisses across your chest before latching onto your nipple, his teeth graze it, you shiver before you feel him start to suck. You feel as a third finger slides in easily, you pulse and moan as his fingers curl to hit just the right spot inside of you. "Jayce," you whine in a high pitched tone.

"Already?" he chuckles picking his head back up. You hum out in pleasure, "Mhmm, I'm almost there Jayce, please," you beg but just before you can reach your peak, Jayce pulls away as you cry out in frustration. Jayce shushes you by gently squeezing your neck and pulling you in for a lingers kiss.

He pulls away, standing back as you grab the edge of the table in wait- watching as he uses his teeth to remove the straps around his wrists, his gloves falling off as he moves his shirt behind you. "Lay back," he says, watching as you lower yourself, slowly to the table.

Jayce unbuckles his pants, stepping out of his boots and kicking everything aside as you tilt your head up to watch him, heart racing as he sends you a wink. You will never get used to the sight of him, the size of him.

Jayce walks slowly up to you, your breath hitching once feeling his bulge rocking against your clit, the sound of your wetness catching on his boxers erotic as it echos in the empty room. Your chest is rising and falling in sort breaths, that peak closer than ever as Jayce teases you, his hands in fists beside your head, caging you in and when you open your eyes to meet his wild ones- you feel nothing but security.

"I love you, I love you so fucking much Jayce," you cry out, nails dragging against the skin of his back as he shakes, you can visibly see how much he is restraining himself in this moment. How pained he looks in his pleasure yet so focused on you, watching as his hips roll into your own, but the friction is not enough, "just loose control, love."

Jayce snaps his head back up, "what?" he says albeit a bit breathlessly. "Let go, I-I just want to feel you, Jayce, want you, need you." Jayce curses underneath his breath, his movements pausing, "are you sure?" you nod your head, "words baby," he kisses your neck. "Yes, please," you croak out and next thing you know, you are being flipped over.

Jayce positions himself, tip just teasing your leaking hole as your legs shake in wait- in want and with one sudden thrust, all the air is knocked from your lungs in a silent scream- your wrists trapped between his larger hand forcing them above your head as you lose yourself to the pleasure.

You listen to Jayce growl, "I've missed you so fucking much." You listen to the sound of skin slapping, filling the room alongside your combined moans- tears stream down your cheeks. "I'm close, Jayce!" you warn, still sensitive from earlier. "Hold on, breathe, sweetheart-"

"I can't Jayce," you sob out, feeling the fire start to form in your gut, spreading out to every vein in your body, a hand comes down on you ass. "You can and you will, baby," Jayce commands, his hips positioning down, reaching deeper than before as you freeze at the sensation starting to rise from your toes, focusing on your breathing.

You mumble blankly, feeling as Jayce kisses your shoulder blade, head becoming lighter than ever. "Good girl," he praises you with one sudden and sharp thrust. You are barley hanging on to reality to your impeding orgasm, trying to wiggle and shift your body away yet Jayce's hips just follow you. "Please, please, please," you beg like a broken record, you swore that if you were looking at yourself in this moment- you would be unrecognizable- withering underneath your boyfriend.

"Come for me. come. for. me," Jayce repeats, feeling as you clench down on his cock, choking it- watching as you bit down on your lip that forces him to release his hands from your wrists to pull it back down. "I want to hear how good I make you feel."

You moan out loudly as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, you claw at the desk, sobbing as your body shakes from the overstimulation tears welling in your eyes as Jayce praises you, "You're taking me so good baby. Your pussy feels so good around my cock, just listen to her. Gonna make you cum again, aren't I-hm?"

Jayce feels as your pussy flutters before gushing around him again with a smirk, he places his body weight atop you as you struggle to comprehend the pleasure you feeling through the endless waves crashing through your body- your blank mind as he fucks you dumb. "Nothing to say, my love? That good?" You nod yes with a sob as Jayce coo's at you, continuing his brutal pace.

"T-too much, Jayce!" you yelp, sensitivity now overwhelming- on the cusp of hurting as you bite down hard on your lip, eyes closing as Jayce hums, "you know what to do love, tell me and I'll stop." Yet you don't move, don't speak, you don't want to stop feeling him, not yet at least, teetering on the line between pain and pleasure.

Jayce picks himself back up, taking your wrists as he positions you to bend off the table. He takes in the side of your tear covered face, his marks across your neck and shoulders, how his hands created indents on your hips as he feels the markings your nails left against his back that push him just over the edge just in time with your final orgasm.

Jayce quickly pulls out, you hear him moan loudly- you feel his seed against your back, warm and dripping down your butt as he slowly helps you rest back on the table. You both are panting- coming down from your highs. Your head lolls to the side, a soft smile coating your features as you feel Jayce brushing the hair out of your face and "you did so good for me baby, so proud."

"Yours, all yours," you say back as you close your eyes, a sudden rush of tiredness rushing over you as you feel Jayce press a kiss to your temple before cleaning you up, allowing you a moment to rest.

─────── · · ⭐️

─ · · Jayce helped to redress you, your legs weak as he picked you up into your arms, your head resting against his chest as you lulled yourself to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat. The only thing left behind in your cell were the pieces of a shattered blue gemstone, pulsing before fading.

─ · · By the time you were awake, you found yourself under Jayce's covers and heard the kettle click off, a record softly playing in the background as Jayce hummed along to it. You joined in, walking over humming, and grasping onto his pants, fingers looping through the empty belt buckles.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Jayce greets you, you smile, pressing your head against his back with a giggle before letting go without a word, watching as Jayce frowns, your heart swelling as you place yourself on the countertop and open your arms, wiggling your fingers as you both laugh. You pull Jayce in by the collar of his shirt- kissing him gently on the lips before moving across his jaw, stopping to cup his cheek as he nuzzles into your palm.

"I love you, Jayce."

"I love you too, always and forever."

"Kiss me?" you ask, eyes pleading, and how could he refuse?

Jayce presses his forehead against yours before capturing your lips. Pulling away, you both are breathless, you look to the side to see only your favourite breakfast items on the menu with a smile- gosh I missed your cooking.

When you look back at Jayce, your eyes go wide seeing him kneeling before you, a box in his hands, blood rushing up to your ears as you jump down from the countertop. "J-jayce? what are you doing?" you stutter through shock, your heat racing at a mile a minute.

"Not going to marry you just yet, through you will be Mrs. Talis in the future," Jayce speaks with such conviction, your heart is beating at a mile a minute. "With this ring I want to promise you that no matter what, I will always put your thoughts and needs first and I will always love you." A goofy love-sick grin is on his face but his eyes are scared yet equally hopeful. You crouch down with him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder as you cry.

Jayce's heart drops, he can't seem to touch you in this moment, can't look to you for comfort. Not feeling him returning the touch, you pull away, seeing his glossy eyes, "Whats wrong?" you ask timidly, listening to the ring drop.

Jayce opens and closes his mouth before falling back, hissing and gripping at his wrist. "Jayce? You're scaring me," you reach out again yet he slides away swearing- looking to be in immense pain, his eyes clouding over and then silence... his body falls before you as you grasp and squeeze his hand, calling back for him.

And then suddenly, he flashes back to life, gripping his head, beads of sweat dripping off his forehead, "fuck, wait, did you say yes?" He completely disregards his pain, forcing on a smile for you as you sit there in shock and horror.

"Of course, Jayce but what the fuck? Are you okay?" you ask again, giving him space this time. Jayce's stares at you, stares through you for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "I will be after this all is over but I'm better knowing I'll have you forever." You smile at his words, brain still racing with what just happened but Jayce appeared back to his regular self now, helping you to stand and finishing up breakfast.

"Sit, please. Let me take care of you like you've done for me," Jayce asks, turning from the stove with soft eyes, and how could you refuse?

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: running away and hiding now! I hope that all was at least readable/skippable... 😬

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123

[hellishjoel]

cherry thrill | lights

9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi chapter summary: your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity. chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, implied age gap, swearing, virginity loss, dom&sub dynamics (/not lg), size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (princess, bunny, baby girl, sweetheart, etc.), oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected p in v, joel talks you through it, protective!joel, slight pov switching, reader is described as having no tattoos or piercings, as well as hair, but otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n series summary: Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, you’re running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea. A/N: this was supposed to be a one shot but just like everything else I try to write, I expand on the characters too much for it not to become a series. also, thank you for 2,000 followers, I promise to do something soon to show my appreciation <3 I'm bad at giving thanks and receiving attention so anyway - dividers by @firefly-graphics (thank you, daisy!)

During your first consultation, there was something in the air. 

Glances that lasted a few seconds too long, a charged energy replicating that of two strong magnets.  You stand frozen in a dark office down the hall from the shop’s main entrance. The walls are painted black. A gallery wall displays different art and posters in gold frames. There’s a large red neon sign with your tattoo artist’s initials, J.M. 

Joel Miller. 

You sit opposite of him, leg anxiously bouncing and nails subconsciously piercing the chair’s leather arms as he listens silently to your request before his mind starts to work. It doesn’t take much time to draw up an example or two with your guided tweaks and fixes. 

Other than the scribble of a graphite pencil, silence falls over you both. And observation takes over. 

Joel surrounds himself with scattered drawings on loose paper that litter his desk. You watch the way his eyes screw inward to focus on the sketch he is drawing up. A small vein protrudes from his temple, his jaw shifts from side to side with tension. 

He’s a blunt sort of handsome. With harsh edges and lines, jaded and carved with precision like precious marble. It makes your pulse jump a bit in your neck and wrist. 

You think your first tattoo should be something special, especially since you’ve waited so long to pull the trigger. He was a bit intimidating like you imagined a tattoo artist to be, what with his brooding demeanor and how he looked you up and down upon taking one step inside his parlor. 

Virgin. 

That’s what he called your skin, untouched by any ink or piercings. 

He didn’t know that it described you down to your core. No one had popped your cherry, taken your virginity, made you theirs. Untouched.

Now, half an hour later and sitting anxiously in his back office, he finishes drawing up the sketch and asks about the precise placement you had in mind. 

“I was thinking here,” you mindlessly point to a spot on your upper thigh. There was a level of secrecy to it, in case any future employers cared about that sort of shit. 

You can’t help the way your skin vibrates under his touch, when he aids you in taking off your bottoms and runs his calloused palms up the smooth skin of your thighs. 

You shakily exhale as he warms you. 

You definitely don’t let yourself fantasize that he’s feeling you up, or even think about wanting him to explore every inch of your body. You know he’s just doing his job. 

But the way his eyes flick up to yours when he feels the goosebumps he knows he’s created is otherworldly. Like he knows you want him to fuck you. The way your muscles twitch under the warmth of his palm, feeling pliant under his touch. Fuck. 

His eyes gleam as his mouth forms into a barely-there smirk. 

There was no point in playing coy. Your body changed at the contact and Joel knew it. 

It was damn near degrading the way he let you simmer. It set a light inside of you no one had before. So that’s when you knew you’d let him, Joel Miller, take your virginity. 

It would be no easy task. You didn’t know how to pursue him, or anyone for that matter. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have said virginity. 

You try not to stare for too long, but even with his gruff demeanor and silence being second nature to him, he was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome with different facial piercings. 

A septum in his nose highlighted its aquiline structure. And a small hoop in his right eyebrow, with greys tickling through like pretty streaks in the hair. It made him look deliciously too old for you. Perhaps that’s what you enjoyed most, though. He was no amateur. 

The moment his fingers dipped into your flesh to work on your tattoo's placement, you knew he felt it, too. Supple under his touch. Squishy. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that obeyed. 

“You prepared for the pain, sweetheart?”

His southern drawl is sweet like honey, deep and husky nonetheless. 

“I think so.” 

Your response is meek. It’s your wavering nerves from having him so close and unsure what the feeling of being tattooed will be like. Joel looks for certainty instead. He insists on it. 

“Need ya t’tell me. Not that you think, that you know.”

“I’m sorry. I know so.”

Joel squeezes the back of your thigh fondly, a proud little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “Good girl.”

The praise alone was enough to make your thighs sticky with arousal. Joel sent you home that day with an ache between your legs that your fingers had to fix. And you thought about him the entire time. 

How his cold tongue piercing would feel against the warmth of your clit. Holding you with his strong, protective arms swirled with black ink. How his staggering dark eyes would look into yours as he fucks you. 

But thinking about him wasn’t enough. 

You tried to string out the process, anything you could do to fix more time with him. Anything to get his tough palms on your skin. 

You fiddled with different placements, opting to show a little skin as you rid yourself of your top and pointed to your ribs during your next appointment. 

A breath hitches in your throat as he eyes your bra's innocent pink color. Lacy and pretty. Delicate. He clears his throat and runs his fingers along your side, evidence of his touch causing an effect on you displayed with more goosebumps. Your body could simply not hide the attraction you felt towards him. 

“Would hurt. A lot. The ribs move every time you breathe, which makes the tattooing process more painful.” Joel gently cups your side with his large palm and squeezes your ribs, holding you in place as you shakily breathe with the hold he has on you. “Can’t tell ya where to place it, can only advise. Just don’t want such a pretty girl to shed any tears.” 

That’s when you knew you could trust him. That even a man as hardened as himself could treat you with such care. 

He excuses himself for a moment, opting for more transfer paper and leaving you topless in his private office. 

Your ears were ringing, you could hear the quickening beat of your heart. You slowly inch off the portable tattoo table, glancing around Joel’s dark academia-style office. 

He’s an enigma, you think, the more you look at his surroundings. Quiet but dark, you knew he was concealing a hidden desire. You hope to unlock it. That he’ll trust you enough just as you trust him. 

Articles of clothing start to drop to the floor, one by one. You knew you’d be ambushing him; you didn’t want to scare Joel. So you left yourself in your soft pink-colored bra and panty set. You thought it was classy and cute. Not too forward, but sweet. Definitely planned out, you hope he doesn’t notice. 

All your confidence quickly disappears as soon as he comes back in through the door. You could feel your heart slowly sink to your stomach, your lips parting to come up with some sort of reasoning. 

“I-I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say. Joel is stilled at the entrance of his office, door still ajar as he blankly stares at the delicate angel standing in the middle of his office. 

He clears his throat and finally closes the door, leaving the two of you in silence. You can’t read his expression. 

“What do ya think you’re doin’?” He asks, sweet southern drawl dripping with tension as his heavy boots slowly make their way closer to you. 

You can only shake your head, unsteady hands concealing as much of your body as possible. You decide to face the mirror, keeping your back to him. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I was just-” Lie. “I was just looking at your full-length mirror to see other placement ideas.” 

Joel merely shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “I can tell when you’re lyin’ t’me, baby girl. You wanna try tellin’ me the truth now?”

His tone only makes the ache in your core grow with desire as your pulse quickens under his eyeline. 

You feel embarrassed, heat coursing through your body and making you tingle as his stare lingers selfishly, basking in the glory of your figure. You watch with want in the reflection as his eyes stare at the curves of your hips and your ass. A handful, he probably thinks. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving closer and enveloping you in his musky pine and whiskey scent. It’s almost knowing what he says next. “Tell me what y’want.” 

You swallow the lump protruding in your throat before you decide to be honest with him. Like you said, you could trust him. You play with your fingers and pick at the skin by your nails.

“I want you.” You say barely above a whisper. 

Joel simply shakes his head, takes another impossible step closer, and cranes his head down to hear you better. His lips and coarse beard hairs tickle at the shell of your ear. 

Your eyes close shyly as he speaks again amid your silence. 

“Say it again, baby. Can’t hear ya.” His toned front meets your back, forcing a whimper past your lips. 

You work up the nerve to take a glance at the two figures in the gold-framed mirror. Perfect opposites. Young, beautiful, a little inexperienced. Older, handsome, sure as hell looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

His height looms over you. His eyes are an unknown shade of obsidian and he’s radiating a comforting warmth. Your hand reaches for his, only able to look him in the eyes through the glass as you guide his hand to your hip. 

Your thumb rolls across the faded tattoo on the backside of his hand. There used to be a cross there, but it looks to be covered up by some sort of python now. With a shaky sigh, you try again. “I want you, Mr. Miller. I want you to take my virginity.” 

You’ve prepared yourself to hear his laughter, a snickering, degrading comment of disbelief. You felt ready to experience shame. But you were wrong. 

Joel places his pointer finger under your chin, using his other hand to guide you in his hold to turn and face him. His thumb grazes over your lower lip as he guides your head to tilt up and look at him properly. Your soft eyes meet his lust-driven ones and your heart surges at the sight. 

You’ve never seen a man so hungry. 

“You want me to take your virginity, little bunny?” He hums seductively. Suddenly, you don’t feel so doomed. It’s placed with a little bit of eagerness now. You wanted your spoils. 

“Yes. Want you to do whatever you desire with me, I’ll do anything you want.” You sound like a devoted cult member, but the energy you feel is undeniable. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point. 

Slowly but surely, Joel begins to nod. He’s mulled it over and he’s made up his mind. 

“Whatever I desire, huh?” He tuts almost degradingly. Your nod of enthusiasm makes his blood rush. 

He hesitates, untrusting of his own words. 

“Want you to call me Daddy,” He starts haphazardly, gauging your reaction. “Think you can do that, sweet girl?”

Your wide eyes soften, a notch of confusion knotting your eyebrows. 

“You- what?” 

“Want you to call me daddy. Want you to be a good little girl for me and hop up on that desk. Can ya do that for me, princess?” His chin juts up and signals toward his office desk. 

The swirling in your stomach just won’t stop. 

“Go on now.” His orotund voice projects his instructions. You back up a few paces until you feel the cool metal of his desk hit your backside, slowly moving to sit on it with hidden excitement and a shiver up your spine. 

You do want to be good, if there’s anything you want in this world right now, it’s to play along and be good for him. Knowing he would take care of you was making you leak. 

His fingertips delicately touch your skin, starting at your wrists and moving upwards to the straps on your bra. He’s intimidating to look at, so you fixate on something behind him. But it doesn’t help when he clouds your vision. Even his aroma, from the smoke of his cigarettes to the musky spruce cologne, was putting you in a tailspin. 

You don’t anticipate the way your body moves for him. His hands skim to the back of your bra, and your spine straightens. It makes the right side of his mouth twitch up into a smirk. 

“Nervous?” He belittles.

Your long lashes innocently flutter, you think you might be doing it on purpose. You sort of like playing along. 

“A little… Daddy.” You test cautiously, the word tangling on your tongue. But it’s unforgettable the way his eyes light up at the name. You find yourself already willing to do whatever it takes to recreate that signature look of his. 

Joel hums appreciatively, thumb making minuscule circles over your chin. “I’ll take care of ya. Ya know that. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen me.”

All you can do is nod. Because he knows that your selection process was a real thing. You had danced around it once during your first consultation when he asked if you had a boyfriend. All you could feel was heat rising to the back of your neck, shy eyes evading his warm brown orbs. 

“No, definitely not.” 

“What’d’ya mean definitely not? You’re a pretty girl.”  

You shrug in a noncommittal way. “I’ve never had to really worry about stuff like… boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Any of that sort of stuff.” 

His eyes flicked up to yours in an instant, a mutual understanding of your underlying words. “I see. I understand, angel.” 

Joel works your bra off with one hand, you gasp as you feel the material loosen around your body. His opposite hand taps at the top of your thigh. You’re all too aware you are eagerly sitting half-naked on his desk. 

“Open.” He directs, voice laced with smoke. 

You nip at your lower lip and slowly inch your clamped-shut thighs open for him. He instantly makes eye contact with the wet, dark little circle that’s ruining the pristine innocence of your panties. 

He decides not to make fun of it, but it’s truly a compliment. Your adoration for him. “This all for me, angel?”

You work up a few quick nods. Now that he was so close, you wanted him to hurry the hell up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

You feel heat tingle at the sides of your neck. This would be your first time really talking like this with someone. He made it feel safe to talk so dirty. To try, to learn. 

“Yes, daddy.”

You can’t deny how proud you feel to be the reason a certain warmth brightens in his eyes and on his smirk. You did that, you pleased him. Little did you know how he’d thank you for it. 

“You said you’re a virgin? Hard to believe.”

A shaky sigh leaves your parted lips as his warm palms slowly pull your bra down, revealing your breasts to him. “Just never found anyone I really trusted or liked enough.” 

He mutters something quiet in understanding, all too distracted by how damn pretty you look. 

Joel is silently observing your body, he can’t help but want to touch the delicate flower in front of him. A gasp leaves your parted lips as his calloused hands come up and cup your breasts. He starts to squeeze, and a happy little whimper leaves your mouth with a small smile. 

“I like that.” You tell him, hoping it improves your chances that he’ll do it again. Which he does. 

“Good.” He compliments, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning them into peaks that send electricity down your spine. 

A sweet and experimental moan leaves your lips. Joel stands between your parted legs and you feel his erection for the first time against your skin. You can tell by the shape protruding through his pants that he’s a large man, already thick and swollen for your taking. 

“No one’s ever been inside of you?” He damn near growls, raising an eyebrow after the beat he offers you to answer.  

You shake your head again. “I’ve tried my fingers, but I’m sure it’s not the same.” 

A scoffy little breath echoes out of his nose. “No, not quite. Lay back for me, bunny.” His hands release your breasts, pebbled nipples left abandoned as you slowly move down onto your elbows and then onto your back. 

There was a sudden peak of anxiety, not being able to fully see him. But perhaps this was the point, to fully surrender yourself under his touch. To trust him. 

His rough hands grip the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He gets about halfway down your thighs before you quickly sit up on your elbows again. 

“Joel?” Your voice anxiously chirps. 

He stops, eyes flicking up to you from your cunt still concealed by your sticky thighs. 

“We can stop,” He says before you can explain. “S’okay if you’re not ready.”

“No, no, that’s not it, God, that’s not it,” You rid his worries, feeling your chest quickly rise and fall under his all of a sudden protective gaze. 

“I uh-... I know you don’t owe me this, we’re not together, but… can you talk me through what you’re doing? I want to learn, and I can tell you’re experienced, I know it’s a lot to ask but-”

“S’not too much to ask.” He quickly intervenes, gently taking your hands and guiding you to sit up fully once more. Your soft eyes graze over all the layers he’s still wearing, and suddenly you’re reminded how naked you are. 

“Use your voice, sweet girl. Can tell you wanna say somethin’. This is your time.” 

The sentiment means a lot. It is your time, your first time, and just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean it should be any less special. So you decide to make it your time, the way you want it. 

“Can you take your clothes off too? And is the door locked?” You trail off upon seeing his amused smirk. 

“Go on.” He nods again, letting you list your needs and wants. 

“And can you kiss me, please, Daddy?” You ask more softly than the rest of your demands. You know that kissing is romantic, but you think it might help settle you. Pull you back from drifting away, keep you here with him.  

He watches you for a moment, a bemused grin on his lips before he gently cradles your face. “The door’s locked. I’ll take my clothes off. And I’ll kiss you as many times as you like as long as you keep askin’ that nice.” 

For the first time during your interaction, your face lights up with a smile. It’s small, it’s thankful, but it’s there. There was an undeniable connection you shared with Joel, it made you feel safe under his curious eyes. 

With his large hands cupping either side of your jaw, he leans down while simultaneously guiding your chin up as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, soft. His mouth tastes like a cigarette, it’s oddly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more.

You know how to make out at the very least. So when you gently bite down and tug on Joel’s lower lip, both of your eyes open as a throaty little groan escapes him. 

He kisses you a little harder this time, hands falling to your hips as he pulls you closer so your fronts align. The force makes your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth. He moves fluently to explore, both of you falling into a sweet lull as your bodies meld into one. 

Inadvertently, he hooks his pointer finger into your panties halfway down your thighs and finishes pulling them to your ankles. They land somewhere on the floor in a pile of your other clothes. 

Unbeknownst to you until he took his hands off your body to pluck open his belt do you realize how you were on fire for him. 

You wonder while he pushes down his trousers and tugs off his shirt if he’s ever slept with a virgin before. If you’d be his version of a first time just like he’d be yours. No, not his first ever, you weren’t that foolish. But maybe you could teach him a thing or two as well. 

There’s no way to mask your surprise when he pushes down his boxer briefs, the dark band revealing all that was underneath. His half-hard cock raises towards his stomach, rosiness fluttering at his tip. You were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a little hooked, deliciously curving upwards. 

With a new sense of confidence, your hand reaches forward and you start to shift your hand up and down his length. Joel’s quiet grunt shatters your thoughts. He gently cups the side of your neck and twirls a piece of hair around his finger. 

Joel takes your hand off his cock and you worry you’ve done something wrong already. He holds it palm-side up and nods encouragingly. “Spit on your hand, baby.”

He nods after you look up at him with shy, blown-out eyes. But you obey. 

You spit into your hand and let him guide your hand back around his member. That seems a lot better. He glistens with your spit and you have the urge to keep shocking him with your confidence.

You lean forward and directly spit onto his tip, looking up to see his approving little smirk. 

“Fuck- That’s- mmm, that’s good, angel,” he sighs with a certain happiness, loving the feeling of getting his cock taken care of. “Feels real good.” 

The praise sets off a million pistons in your brain, feeling yourself scrabble off the desk,  dropping to your knees as you continue to pump him. 

He’s heavy in your hand, and you gently lean forward to give sweet kisses to the tip. You swallow the lump in your throat before parting your lips, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. He’s salty, musky, but not dirty. In fact, he was rather well-kempt in his nether regions. 

You force yourself deeper and Joel already has his hands in your hair to pause you. 

“Woah, slow your roll, pretty girl.” He says with shortened breaths. Heat floods your body, you hate being so new to this. 

Joel continues to stroke your hair back, gently gliding a thumb up your cheekbone before he cradles one side of your face. “I see you gettin’ all shy, I know this is your first time, but I’ll teach you the basics. And no one’s perfect on their first try, okay? So just get that thought outta your head now.”

Your chest swells at his eagerness to relax you, so you nod gently and lean in to kiss the base of his stomach in appreciation. The right side of his mouth tilts up as he swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip, a silent thank you for the kiss. 

“You’re a real good girl, you know that?” A bigger smile breaks across your lips and you eagerly tug on his cock with eagerness. Joel sighs, already in defeat at how you’re willing to get it right for him, to learn, to listen. To obey. 

“You’re gonna wanna relax your jaw,” his fingers guide you, your lips parting and letting your jaw drop lower, lower, lower for him. “And the whole part is to suck, not just put your mouth on it, okay, peaches? So hollow your cheeks, no teeth, and only go as far as you feel comfortable.” 

You shake off your nerves and clear your throat, feeling your mouth fill with spit intended for him. You place your hands on the back of his thighs, feeling the dark hairs under the pads of your fingers. 

Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip once more. You swirl your tongue around him, adoring the way he hisses when you glide your tongue across the slit leaking a salty substance. 

Over the introduction, you try to take him down your throat properly. And he’s a mouthful, literally. He’s a lot. But you try to just enjoy that there’s no real pressure. 

A lot of saliva starts to build in your mouth, and you swallow it around him. You’re awestruck when he lets out a low moan, strong hands weaving through your hair and lightly tugging. Your eyes flutter up to him through your lashes, and he’s looking at you so deliciously. 

You can tell he wants to fuck your mouth, holding his hips back from really letting you have it. And maybe he could do that to you someday, but for now, today was slow. And Joel knew that too. 

Joel gently tucks your hair back, your lips suctioning around his length before he drags you back towards him, indicating for you to start moving, to bob your head. 

It takes a few tries, but you really feel yourself going further down his cock. You breathe through your nose, but it’s hard when you’re trying not to gag around him. Finally, after little to no error, you slip up. His tip unexpectedly hits the back of your throat and you gag around him.  Joel must feel your whole body tense with anxiety because he’s quick to gently hush and console you. Your eyes well up with tears, but your first instinct is to keep him inside your mouth and swallow around him. 

A long, low groan leaves Joel’s mouth, a compliment to your first big challenge. 

“Holy fuck,” he pants, weaving his fingers into your hair and fisting eagerly to keep himself grounded. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ well, princess, you have no idea, fuck,” he grins. “Try using your hands on what you can’t take, come on, baby.” 

You can feel yourself physically gush at his compliments, your stomach swirling with a newfound desperation. To please. 

With new instructions, you work your hand at his base and pump up and down with the rhythm of your mouth. You worked on gently squeezing and releasing your hand, making Joel go slack-jawed as a husky groan leaves the back of his throat. Sucking and licking and bobbing your head in earnest, he’s already twitching in your mouth. 

“You’ve done this before baby,” his voice drips with a smirk, pulling yourself off for some deep breaths and a few desperate swallows. 

“Haven’t, promise, Joel,” You coo with a proud little smile, your voice thick and wrecked as you continue to pump his cock in the absence of your mouth. 

Joel lets your hair go and guides your hand off his cock before helping you up from the floor. 

Your face is obviously written with disappointment, you could have continued. You sort of wanted to continue despite the ache hanging around in your jaw. 

“You were gonna make me come, don’t wanna come yet, angel,” Joel pants weakly, ducking down and connecting your lips. You’re a little taken aback. Not by the kiss, but by the fact you already had him nearly ready to finish. 

“Really?” You murmur hopefully against his mouth, wishing he wasn’t just saying it to compliment you. 

The way that his features started to twitch and his tummy and chest fluttered with his jagged breathing, it would have been quite a sight to see him finish. Maybe he would have even done it right on your tongue. The thought alone gives you goosebumps. 

Your insides swirl as he licks inside of your mouth and gently runs his tongue along your bottom lip, moving you back towards his desk. You hop up without his instruction, feeling him smirk against your pouted mouth. 

“Now you’re gettin’ a hang of things.” He murmurs into your mouth, carrying on where he had left off before, sinking down to his own knees at the edge of the desk and positioning your feet to rest up on the edge. He seems to stare at the glistening arousal you’ve been creating for the last hour straight. 

That nervous feeling settles in your stomach, completely bare and open for him. A shocked gasp leaves your mouth, not prepared for him already to be diving into your pussy. 

The breadth of his tongue slowly swipes up the center of your core, purposely flicking off of your clit and making you yelp at the contact. His cold tongue piercing against your sensitive bundle made a shiver shoot up your spine. 

He gently smirks as he places a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh. “You’re jumpy, kitten. Take a breath. Wanna make you feel real good.” 

You let out a shaky sigh and move off your elbows, back flat on his desk as your eyes slowly drift close. Then, as he starts to truly taste you, learning you and what you like, it’s unexpected how much you enjoy it. It never really dawned on you that some people truly enjoy eating pussy, but Joel Miller sure does. 

Your broken little whimpers and strung-out moans turn into writhing on his desk under him. He was such an expert, meticulously swirling his tongue around you and suckling your clit into his mouth. 

It didn’t take long for your fingers to wind up into his hair as his shoulders lay bracketed between your thighs. It was heavy, it was stomach-twisting, in fact, it was rolling through you like a storm. The it in question was your first oral orgasm. 

“J-Joel,” you gasp, your jaw dropping down as he slowly prods the tip of his finger at your entrance. 

“Need to get you ready for my cock, sweet girl, keep focusing on how good you feel,” he encourages. Your face pinches as his finger slowly sinks into your entrance, but you realize how grateful you are for all the extra spit and arousal Joel has provided. 

It doesn’t necessarily hurt, it’s a weird ache at first. But then his finger starts to slowly pump inside of you, and it’s a new craving. Especially with the way his tongue moves around your clit, the pistons in his brain firing all to figure out what you like. 

Do you like when he flicks your clit with his cold metal piercing?

“Ohmygod-” you gasp. 

Do you like when he swirls his naughty tongue around you in tight figure eights? 

“Joel, please,” you say, needing more. 

Did you like it most when he suckles around your sweet bud?

“Joel!” You cry out, tugging tighter at his hair, not sure if you want to tug him closer for more or push him away because it feels too good. 

“O-Oh, oh my god.” Lying still was a foreign thing to you now, all you could do was wiggle and grip your fingers into his hair, tugging harshly as he grunted against your core in enjoyment. 

He actually likes pleasing you, he likes tasting you! It’s a compliment without words as your eyes dip close and your head digs back into the desk.

Suddenly, your stomach starts to drop like you’re on a rollercoaster. You’re not unfamiliar with the feeling of an orgasm, but this, oral, it hits differently. 

“Fuck,” you curse unexpectedly, making Joel cock up an eyebrow as he glances up at you. All you can do is watch as his mouth suckles harder around you, his finger pumping faster and adding a second. 

Because if there’s anyone in this world that can break you out of your shell, Joel wants it to be him. 

Now you’re really aching for him,  wishing that it was his cock slotted between your walls, pushing you towards euphoria. 

“Know you wanna come for me angel,” his fingers quirk upwards in a come here motion, and a long, strung-out moan of his name leaves your lips.

God forbid any of the shop’s workers or clients hear you, but you can’t think of a singular reason to care right now. 

Your walls flex and squeeze around Joel’s two fingers, truly feeling the stretch as you come around his digits. It leaves you a whimpering mess on his desk, hot pants leaving your pretty lips. 

Joel is in heaven, lapping you up and moaning against your core as your clit starts to twitch with the overstimulation. His hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before he sits up and kisses up your body, his own lips meeting yours. He’s hungry, and you’re still bouncing back. But you want it so bad, and you’re so close to finally having it. 

“Joel, I’m ready.” You coo, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

He breathily laughs and pecks your lips once more, tasting your own arousal and making you feel warm inside. 

“Desperate for my cock, ain’t that right, pretty girl?” 

God, he was such a menace with his mouth. Your adorably shy grin is all the answer he needs. But you give him one anyway, because he likes when you talk like that with him. 

“Yes, daddy, I just wanna feel it already,” you try out, Joel’s lust-filled eyes meeting yours as white-hot heat spills into your stomach. 

“I’ll give it to ya, baby girl. Wanna give that tight little virgin pussy my cock, don’t want anyone else to have ya. Mine.” Joel huskily grunts, a choked moan leaving your lips. 

Joel reaches past your head and to the drawer on the other side of the desk. He jimmies it open and searches his hand around blindly. He flips open his wallet and pulls a small square foil package from the slot. 

Oh, duh, a condom. In all your excitement, you sort of forgot to be safe. But you’re glad he was prepared. 

You watch with adoration on your features as Joel lifts the condom to his lips, pearly teeth ripping the foil off but not hurting the condom. His other hand rests sweetly on your hip, thumb running soothing circles into your pretty skin. 

It’s a soothing feeling, one that he doesn’t have to do, but he does because he’s being considerate and maybe even a little protective. You gently lay your hand on his forearm, fingers tracing fresh black ink and older green ink on his arm’s sleeve. 

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as he uses both hands to glide the condom down his shaft. It’s nearly invisible, the way it’s so thin and tightly wrapped around his cock. Besides the band that rests at the very bottom of his shaft. He grumbles something incoherent, probably his annoyance with the fussing of the condom and how tight it probably felt around him.  

You take in a shaky breath and nod at him once he comes to rejoin your centers. 

“You’re sure you’re ready for this? Don’t wanna wait for someone y’love? Or trust? Or just... Anybody but me?” Joel’s face is pinched with genuine concern. 

You smile softly and gently cup his cheek. “I do trust you. It takes a lot of trust to allow someone to alter your body forever with a tattoo. So, you’re giving me a tattoo, and you’re taking my virginity. You’re sort of doubling down for me right now, honestly.” 

Joel flashes a genuine little smile. It’s the most you’ve said consistently all day with him, even with a little drip of sarcasm and wit. 

“Okay. But ya gotta say it.” He says more seriously. 

“I’m ready, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good. I know you can.” You can already feel yourself picking up his dirty talk. It makes your smile twitch as you gently grip both of his forearms, his hands spreading your thighs open for him. 

He enters the space, his heavy cock resting over your core and slowly slipping up and down your wet folds. 

You let out an unexpected little scoff as he grinds himself down against you, your arousal soaking the condom. He holds himself at his base and taps his tip down against your already throbbing clit, making you hiss out a desperate whine. 

“M’not usually this… gentle.” He admits through gritted teeth. You’re sort of shocked by that. Sure, he has a rough and tough exterior, but he’s treated you with such delicacy that you assumed he was like this all the time. 

“So, what are you usually like?” You pose, your breath hitching in your throat as one of his hands abandons your thighs and guides his tip from your clit to your entrance, up and down, several times. Your thighs twitch impatiently. Your entrance squeezes around nothing. 

“M’just... not this gentle,” is all he can say without breaking into a bemused smile. 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

Joel playfully scoffs as his face starts to pierce with concentration. “Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

“I’m sure I-” your words are cut off by a loud gasp, your lips parting as his tip penetrates your walls. You’re phased for a moment before you gulp and recollect yourself. You whimper, louder and louder as he pushes on, watching Joel move with such caution. 

He really is holding back, you think. You wonder what he’s like when he can just fuck how he pleases. 

“Baby,” Joel’s voice breaks your concentration. “Breathe.” 

A loud huff of air leaves your mouth that you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. The ache in your hips and core only builds with tension as Joel pushes on, his length and girth surely parting your tight walls. 

“So fuckin’- tight.” He says with gritted teeth, his fingers piercing into the delicate flesh of your outer thighs, making you whimper. 

“Joel,” you quietly cry for him, tears threatening to spill at the pain. It’s just- a lot. It’s a lot for your first time, and maybe you wouldn’t have signed up if you knew what he was packing, but in a weird way, you loved it. He felt made for you. 

“M’here, angel, look at me.” In all the excitement and overwhelming feelings of pain and pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed you were clenching your eyes closed. You slowly peek them open, greeted by his heavenly features. 

“There’s my girl.” He compliments, warmth and sweetness shooting through your body. 

“Fuck,” you say, your voice a bit wet as Joel comes down closer to aid you. He’s all the way in now, you can feel his balls flushed against your sopping wet cunt. 

The arousal helps, the condom sort of doesn’t but it’s fine, that’s life, you think. You’re torn between pain and pleasure. Honestly, you just feel so fucking full. 

He tells you between breathy pants that he would have used lube if he had any, but he didn’t, and he’s sorry, and his pretty voice starts to turn into static with how fucking good he feels inside of you. 

“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praises, sponging a few kisses along your cheeks and tasting your salty tears. You feel like some weak pathetic being under him. He’s been sweet, but you’re sure he’s just treating you like he found a wounded animal. 

“Move, Joel, please” you weakly demand, lassoing your arms around his neck and holding him close to you. 

“No.” He says through gritted teeth. “Just-” he pauses and takes a deep breath, knowing that you’re dealing with a million emotions right now as he’s trying to breathe around the death grip you have on his cock. “Just wait a minute, sweetheart, let yourself adjust.” 

A pouty, bratty sigh leaves your lips as you continue to blink away tears. You eventually nod and he only smiles adoringly as he returns to kiss at the tears.

Your senses are spiked. You can smell his cologne, feel each gristle of hair from his salt and pepper beard. It’s erotic how much more you can feel while at the edge of your emotions. 

One of your hands roams into his darling chocolate curls, instinctually going to gently scrape your nails delicately against his scalp. You’re sweetly surprised to hear him mutter a sweet little moan just for you against the shell of your ear. 

Your hands flutter across dark tattoos on his shoulders and arms, your blurry vision trying to make out the shapes as you trace a pretty angel on his upper bicep. 

Joel Miller was inside of you. Joel Miller has taken your virginity. The hottest man you’ve ever set your eyes on is fucking you at his place of work, on his desk. And you convinced him to. 

Joel was right. The pain, ache, and burn slowly turned into a real yearning for him to move. It felt like what was right, a certain neediness to be filled and fucked.  

“Daddy,” you whisper more sweetly this time, more to your character. “Please fuck me, you feel good now, I can take it. Promise.” 

It takes him a moment to gather himself as well, smiling sweetly as he keeps his mouth by your breasts where he is sucking a gentle hickey into your soft skin. Color flushes to the area, feeling his teeth gently nibble on the spot before he finally lifts off. 

Marking you, you think. It makes another gush of arousal flood your core, liquifying your spine as you become putty in his hands. 

His mouth twitches in a small smile as he captures your lips. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet kiss was just a distraction. 

Joel slowly began reeling his hips back which was a whole new sensation. His strangled moan harmonized with the gasp you let out into his mouth, moaning out the breath you were holding as he plunges himself fully back inside your warm cunt. 

You whimpered weakly, needy and anxiously happy, you wanted more. More, more, more. 

“Oh- my god,” you whimper, feeling him start a steady rhythm inside of you. Your jaw slowly drops and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your tits start to lightly bounce every time his hips perfectly align with your own. 

“So goddamn tight, still,” he grunts each word, forehead against yours as he watches your face unfold with a million reactions. 

Something primal switches in Joel, knowing he’s the first one to do this sort of stuff with you. 

It’s strangely possessive and arrogant, he knows it, but being the first man you trust to fuck you properly was feeding his ego. You’re a beautiful young woman with big doe eyes who waltzed into his shop and insisted he rail you, take your sacred first, talk you through it, and carry you through this dark and fearful forest. 

You trusted him. He wouldn’t break that bond. 

You came here wanting something, knowing how to get it. You came here asking, and Joel was open to teaching. The last thing he wanted was for some asshole to hurt you, something your sweet nature couldn’t afford was poison. 

Maybe he could teach you more, if you wanted. If he offered you an invitation to his world, would you take it? He only shared a slice of his lifestyle with you today, would the rest scare you, or entice you? 

Joel can’t help the way his hips buck faster at his thoughts, a little sob leaving your lips. He’s absent, just for a moment, feeling your skin slap against his as he holds you down and fills you fully. His tip hits your cervix for the first time and heat floods your stomach as you cry out his name. 

“Shit,” he panics and quickly comes back to his senses, wide eyes meeting your bleary ones, “you okay, angel? M’sorry” Joel whispers, returning to his original rhythm. 

“Yes-yes, fuck, please keep going, keep doing that, I can’t believe how good it feels.” 

Joel weakly smirks, proud to see you taking him so well.

The desk squeaks and juts with each of his heavy thrusts, that’s how you know it’s fucking good. You came here wanting to lose your virginity, but now that you’ve unwound Joel Miller, you want him to fucking rail you. 

Licking your lips, you lean up and pepper kisses up his wirey jawline, feeling the patch of hair that fades out and then back in again. He’s so sweet right now, but you wonder what he was talking about before. What was he when he wasn’t gentle? How good would rough feel? Would you like it? Maybe you could learn, explore, adventure. Surely Joel with his experience could be a guiding light. 

You watch with glittery eyes as Joel pulls his head off yours and licks across the pads of his fingers. 

“What are you- shit,” you whimper as his fingers start circling your clit, taking a moment to find your sweet little rhythm, one that somehow matches his hips. Now, your skin is slapping and it’s echoing around the room. Your moans are louder and uncontrollable, as are Joel’s. Your hips ache but you don’t find the will to care, he feels like fucking heaven. 

His cock is somehow inching deeper, as if your walls have decided to invite him in further, where he hits this perfect little spot inside of you that makes you squeak Joel’s name with robbed breaths. 

You’re not sure if you can hold on much longer, your stomach starts to swirl as all the knots inside your belly begin to untie themselves. 

You brace Joel at his shoulders and look into his eyes as you moan his name. A certain hunger flickers behind his dark brown orbs. His jaw clicks and he starts fucking you in earnest, filling you up each time as his hips snap with vigor. He feels fucking amazing, piercing your walls and marking you as his. 

“Joel-”

“Say what I wanna hear, baby,” he rasps. You quickly nod and gulp. 

“Daddy, please, I-I’m so close,” you moan sweetly as your head digs into the desk, jutting your chin up and arching your back. Joel takes full advantage of your breasts in his face, burying his nose in between them and nipping at the sensitive flesh, nearly making you yelp. 

“M’right there with you, angel baby, come for me,” he insists breathlessly.

His hips were losing their precision, going buck-wild, so you knew he was close. But he was holding out for you. 

You clench your eyes closed, feeling yourself lose all control. Your heart races in your chest, beat thrumming in your throat as you hold Joel against your front as his hips continue to snap and fill you. You don’t know what to do with your mouth, so you feverishly land your lips on his and make him mask the moans of your orgasm. 

Joel’s groan echoes loudly into your mouth as you gasp against his lips. Your walls clench eagerly around his cock as he spills into the condom. 

It’s blinding, deafening even. Your face goes slack and your eyes see stars. You think you might be shedding a tear or two because Joel is cupping your face kindly, thumbs swiping under your eyes as he encourages you out of your haze. 

“Lemme see those eyes, pretty girl,” he pants sweetly, watching for any sign of doubt. But he wouldn’t find any. 

You’re not so sure where he starts and you begin, your mind is so fuzzy. 

A soft hum leaves your lips as you soothingly run a hand through his dark hair again, gently stroking the longer curls away from the sheen on his forehead. Both of you were so warm, it felt like a fire was set between you two. When you curl a strand around your finger, you weakly smile as it coils back up and bounces. 

“How was your first time, angel?” Joel pants, still buried balls deep inside of you. Your hips ache, but part of you wasn’t ready for him to pull out yet. 

“I can’t believe I finished twice.” You admit with a shy smile, running a thumb up his cheekbone and glancing up at his eyebrow piercing. He notices you staring but keeps his eyes on your own.  

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head. 

“What about the one in your nose?”

He shakes his head again, this time with a smile. 

“Or your tongue?” 

This one made him ponder before he finally gave a light shrug. 

“You don’t remember the pain after a while. Just like tattoos. The pain is temporary.” 

Your mouth tilts in a lopsided smile, feeling messy with both of your spillages still puddled around your centers. 

Joel grunts as he slowly stands up from his bent-over position on the desk, pulling himself out of you and tying up the condom before he tosses it into the waste bin. 

You whine quietly to yourself as you close your legs. It hurts a little more now. Your hips and your core, a certain soreness. Or maybe it was missing him already. 

“Oh,” you whisper, starting to feel a little bit of leakage glide down your thigh. “Joe, do you-” 

“Course,” Joel says assuringly, hands already on a towel as he neals down and gently glides the material up the inside of your thigh. You bite down on your lip as he cleans you up with the soft towel and a little bit of water. 

You glance around the sterilized room and realize he’ll probably have to scrub this place down for the most part. Whoops. 

You’re slow to dress. Joel’s already buttoned his pants by the time you find your panties. He snickers quietly and helps you dress with a smirk. 

It’s not awkward like you feared it would. It sort of felt like you guys were friends. Then, something sort of unexpected happens. 

Joel fondly strokes a hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear and smoothing out the little knots he had caused while fisting your hair during his blowjob. He’s soft and gentle with you. It makes you oh so curious what he looks like when he’s not soft and gentle. 

You sigh softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. You sort of felt proud, like you’d be a whole new person leaving the shop today. Even without a tattoo. 

“Joel, I don’t want anyone to see me leaving your office.” 

“That ashamed of me, huh?” He scoffs at you playfully, running his hand up and down his chest hair before he finally throws on his shirt. “I have the back office, so we can just go out that door.” He juts up his chin to behind you and you follow his eyeline. “Goes to the alley behind the shop.” 

You note the dark green painted exit door, and you’re thankful you don’t have to parade through the front of the shop or go past any other clients. 

The gentleman that he is, Joel walks you to your car as dusk settles in, marking the sky an orange and red horizon.  

“I gotta clean up the shop and close. You gonna be okay until I see you next?”

You nod meekly, a sweet smile on your face that twinges with a little shyness. “I’ll be okay. I still need that tattoo.” You tease to which he grins. 

“You do. I’ve worked real hard on it, so you better come back an’get it.” 

You nip at your lower lip as he stays guarded by your window, like a handsome pierced, and tatted bodyguard. 

It’s itching at you too much to let it go. You’re just too curious. “M’not this gentle.” 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

“Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

You gulp and clutch his hand before he fully stands up to walk away from your car. “You’ll show me again sometime? Like you said?”

Your eyes glimmer with a certain hopefulness, but his own seem to harden out of caution. 

It was just insane that he knew so much more than you. You wanted to unlock all forms of pleasure you were comfortable with. You like that he was holding something back. 

You were wet clay in his massive hands, he could mold you to his liking. You could learn his pleasures, his kinks, what unravels him beyond repair. You could learn a thing or two about yourself in the process. 

Joel sighs. 

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” He warns, lips crooked in a snarl. His eyes beg for you not to want him, not to want this. 

But nothing set your nerves on fire like seeing him in control of you, just that brief second where his eyes flashed from amber to black and he fucked you like nothing or no one was stopping him. What if you gave it all up to him? 

Submissiveness dances behind your eyes, and Joel’s a sucker for that sweet look on your face. He debates if this is what you really want, or if it’s something else. He can’t deny he enjoys the trust you put in him. 

Joel quietly sighs with hesitation, eyes the way your small hand desperately holds his before he finally squeezes back. 

“You don’t know how t’take no for an answer, do ya?” He asks, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “That’ll have to change.” 

You grin and nod, biting down on your lower lip as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joel takes notice, not wanting to see you in any sort of discomfort, especially from something he caused. 

“Take some pain medicine and relax tonight, angel. You were perfect.” 

Your heart swells at the compliment, the appreciation, the care. He gently pats your window a few times before standing up straight and backing up from your car, moving back towards the dark green exit door. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Driving away, you’re giddy with excitement of the unknown. It was a dark path you wanted to pursue. And maybe it was fucking stupid how you could trust a complete stranger like this, how none of your past partners felt worthy of your first time, but the tattooed and pierced old southern gentleman did. It was fucked. But you were sort of fucked for Joel Miller. 

You hum to the radio as you experience pure adrenaline, thumb gliding over the raised numbers on his business card. You glance down and notice a small stamp of a fern in the top right corner, adjacent to his name and professional title. 

The Obsidian Gallery 

Joel Miller

Senior Tatoo Artist

You can’t explain how your heart inadvertently races as you remember flashes of his hips rutting into yours, those same delicate fern leaves decorating the front of his hips. You were so fucked for Joel Miller. 

next chapter ->

[you-know-honey]

Green Vibes

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Viktor is on the verge of collapse because of work, so you will “prescribe” him an unconventional method.

Warning: Mention and use of drugs (Weed). Sexual tension (I don't know if it counts, judge for yourself)

N/A: English is not my native language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I will update it. Remember to share if you liked it.

Translation of the request: The reader shows Viktor the joints

You bent down to pick up the twelfth crumpled ball of paper that rolled across the floor to throw it in the trash can.

As an assistant it was your duty to help with the less interesting tasks of being a visionary inventor. And that meant keeping things tidy and clean.

Which used to be the biggest burden, Jayce was a master at leaving important things lying around, his desk was always full of papers, notebooks, screw and bolts.

It was like being his babysitter, once he left at nightfall, you stayed to tidy up.

You wanted to go home and… try a new ‘relaxant’ you had bought, but it seemed like that would have to wait. Or maybe not…

Viktor always stayed too late at the lab, so while you cleaned up and complained about the mess of Jayce, he was always there, silent or chatting a little with you when he decided to take a break, something very rare for him.

But now he was really focused, mumbling things that aren't so nice to hear while writing in his notebook, then he got upset and hit the table a little before tearing off the sheet and throwing it to the floor. He's been like this for the last few hours, it seems like he could burn everything down if his formulas don't start making sense soon. It's weird to see him like this, normally he's someone who could have infinite patience, you suppose he has it with everyone except himself.

You approached his desk discreetly, as if you were tidying up a bit. You carry with you your usual relaxed energy, maybe you could spread some of your spirit to him.

"Viktor!" your shout surprised him, making his back tingle like a cat's "You look like you're about to pop a vein, are you okay?" they say with a soft smile.

Viktor guides his gaze from your hands on his desk to your face, you look at him with a calm smile, as if you hadn't just almost stopped his heart, it's always like that, there's no other way you could smile at him and if you think back he's the only person you really smile at.

He answers with a snort, rubbing his temples.

“Of course not. If I was this dam- prototype would work” he refrained from saying a rude thing, you knew him, for him, saying a rude thing meant he was losing his composure and that was something he never did “I'm starting to think that magic is more logical than science.”

He sighed, showing that he was quite exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes supported that conclusion. His thin hands combed his hair as if that would refresh his ideas before falling on his desk again.

That squeezed your heart a little and made a curious idea cross your mind, reflected in a malicious smile.

You let your hands wander across the desk, between the open papers and notebooks, to Viktor’s hands that were clenched into fists. “What you need is not more work. You need to relax…”

Viktor's body was the victim of a shiver when he felt your fingers approach his hand, his heart skipped a beat when he felt how your fingers tried to loosen their grip on his fist and finally succeeded. He tried to stay still, as if the slightest movement would push you away like a little bird, his gaze followed each of your movements in his hand, caressing his palm and playing with his fingers.

Was he surprised by your attitude? Yes. It was something he had never expected from you. You used to play little jokes on him, like shouting his name or throwing a pencil on the floor to get him out of his almost absolute concentration but... touching him? That was new. Sure, you were the secretary of both of them but you always had to run after Jayce because he was like a clueless child, even Viktor knew that. With him you weren't like that at all, you always gave him his space and kept your distance all the time. That had always made him feel uncomfortable, like he didn't belong to whatever was forming when you and Jayce were together, like he was a sour shadow life to the sidelines of happiness.

“Can I help you with that?” you asked in a whisper.

“I guess so…” He seemed nervous and that increased even more when he felt your hand go up his arm to his shoulder, where with both hands you did small massages on his shoulders and neck. You used to give Jayce massages when he was frustrated and a part of Viktor had always felt a little jealous of that, although he didn't want to admit it, it seemed unfair to him, Jayce had Mel and he really didn't get tired of talking about how wonderful she was and yet he also had you, always fluttering around him, always laughing with you, always accepting your merely friendly touch, always...always making you smile...he wants that.

He couldn't help but gasp when the pressure on his body began to disappear, his body was also enjoying it, after all it was the first time he could feel your touch beyond accidental brushes. He was grateful that you were behind him, he was sure that if you could see his face he couldn't hide how much he was enjoying it.

You looked over your shoulders at your bag hanging on one of the racks next to the door, next to Viktor's jacket. It was time to take advantage of that small purchase. You slid your hands to his neck, massaging even under his hair, making your way and disarranging his shirt in the process until you touched his warm and soft skin. Viktor's hand quickly went in search of his cane, when a shiver ran through him from head to toe with force, the emptiness in his lungs reminded him that he should breathe. But even with that wave of emotions, what he felt the most was the absence of your hands on him.

He quickly turned in his chair to look for you, his eyes traveling around the lab until he saw you near the entrance.

“No…” he muttered to himself as he grabbed his cane and let his shoulder rest on it, hurrying to get to you, but when he had you in front of him the words got stuck in his throat. “Are you leaving already?” he asked, it was the only thing his nervous mind had been able to formulate.

You turned back to face him, hiding something in the palm of your hand, a playful smile spread across your face as you shook your head. “No, I just came… to get something.”

“Oh…” he felt like an idiot, there was no lie that could justify him basically going after you like a lapdog. So he just stayed silent looking for something that would draw his attention more than the shame he felt and he found it, in your hands. “What are you trying to hide?” He asked at your poor attempt to hide what you were carrying in your hands. That helps him regain his composure and look you in the eyes again with confidence.

“It’s a secret” your tone is playful as you dodge him, close enough to smell his coffee and caramel aroma. Your movements are full of grace, even when you bring an extra chair to his desk and push his research away with a slight carelessness.

He can’t help but compare you to a dancing nymph, the air that sneaks through the open window and the bright moonlight support that idea in his head, he doesn’t even mind that some of his papers fly in the wind to his feet, he feels it as if they mark a path to you. Viktor doesn’t hesitate for a moment to return to his desk, shaking his head as a shy smile crosses his face, he can’t help it, it’s what you provoke in him.

He lets himself fall on the seat in front of you, your body shivers with the friction of the metal device on his leg against your knee, he seems to notice it and self-consciously takes a little distance, but you used your foot to work his chair into place before basically having him on the other side of the desk.

“Are you ready to try something really relaxing?” You ask excitedly.

Your gaze is unmistakably on him, finally, his mind screams excitedly and he hides it very well with a nervous movement of his good leg.

“What is that?” He asks finally, he's not good at enduring mysticism.

You open your hands with the same excitement as a circus tent opens to show an endless number of wonders. There's a yellow metal box with rainbow stickers and happy faces painted with marker. Inside there was a green mass and another brown compacted, a lighter, small filters and small papers.

You laughed a little at his attitude. “It's a relaxation method. You're going to like it. Well... maybe not, but you have to try it.”

Viktor massages his chin while he analyzes everything, he has that skeptical look full of curiosity again, you can see the nuts and bolts in his mind turning.

“It's weed.” you confess, his eyes widen and search your gaze quickly, his eyes reflecting surprise. “Oh come on Viktor, what is science if not experimenting with new things? It counts as research.” The tone in your voice is playful, as if you're amused by the situation.

“What effects does it have?” If there was one thing Viktor never dabbled in, it was drugs. Even with his illness, he never thought about trying them. Not because he didn't know about them, they just didn't spark his interest. "I didn't know you were on drugs..." he murmurs, feeling a little foolish, he didn't consider you to be close friends so it's not like you had to tell him about it. A thorn of jealousy stung him when a voice in the back of his mind mentioned that maybe Jayce did know that and many other things about you.

"I don't, it was... a recent purchase, I just know that they relax you and make you feel really good for a few hours." You sigh and rest your head on your outstretched arm on the desk. "Do you want to try it? I mean, we can try it together if you want..." you say as your hand plays with a pencil near you. You don't want to look him in the eyes, you fear meeting a stern look and a big reproach.

"Sure, why not." was his answer, simple and perhaps a little nervous.

“This is going to be fun.”

Viktor watches you carefully as you roll the joint, studying your every action. He watches your hands take the thin, almost translucent paper that shines a little under the moonlight, watching it spread between your fingers as you make sure the sticky side is facing up and out. He look at your hands, soft and the shiny rings on them, and only one thought escapes you.

“I’d like to feel them…”

“What?” you reply to such an unexpected comment.

“Nothing,” he quickly says. “I was rambling,” he tries to justify himself, and you seem to believe him for a second.

“Okay…” Your movements were nervous, caused by the intensity of his gaze, making you more and more nervous about being the center of his absolute attention this time. You delicately crumble the buds. The sticky texture of the resin tried to stick to your fingers, releasing an earthy aroma, you take a bit of tobacco and crumble it up and let it rest on the grass. You take a small little filter and place it on one end. With agile fingers you lift the paper and begin to shape it, making sure everything is well distributed, you roll the paper and Viktor’s soul seems to leave his body when he sees you licking the edge before sealing it with a clean movement. His thoughts are reflected on his face as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks and his Adam’s apple rises shakily.

You offer him the finished joint with a satisfied smile, you hoped you had done all the steps right. Viktor takes it delicately, as if he had just witnessed a sacred ritual.

“What exactly is in it?” he asks, hoping the answer will take his attention away from his own thoughts a little.

“Weed, tobacco, patience…and the desire to share” You joke as you take out the lighter and put everything in the box, before hiding it in one of the drawers of his desk.

Viktor plays with the joint in his hand for a while, examining it. “Should I put it in my mouth?” he asks as you nod softly.

“I’ll light it” you move your chair closer to him, just a few centimeters from each other, you take the lighter from the table and bring it close to his face, with the glow of the flame you can clearly see his blush and how straight he is in his seat “Relax, I’m not going to set you on fire.” you murmured with a soft laugh. He didn’t answer, he just brought his face closer to you, not to the flame of the lighter, your body paralyzed at such a reaction, it was you who brought the flame closer to him and gently lit the joint.

Viktor's first drag was a tragedy in itself, he coughed as if his soul was leaving them while his eyes were watery as if he was dying, he had inhaled it all at once and swallowed it, so it was like watching a chimney moan. You quickly went to his aid by taking the joint from him, taking him to the window to get some air and gently hitting his back to get the remaining humor out of his lungs. Even so, you couldn't help but laugh awkwardly, you tried to hide it so he wouldn't think you were laughing at him but then it was a thousand times more noticeable.

“This can't be healthy…” he mentioned, hitting his back against the wall next to the window.

“Not if you do it like that” you mentioned covering your laughter with your hand.

“Do you find it funny to see me dying in the smoke?”He asked, he didn't seem upset, he just had his arms crossed with a sarcastic attitude, letting his back fall against the wall in the arch of the window.

“No…” you muttered before stopping hiding your laughter and letting it out freely. He just smiled and looked out the window, he felt a little silly about everything that had happened but at least he made you laugh and that was something.

Viktor’s skin crawled as your hand suddenly cupped his cheek. “You have a tear,” you said, wiping the small droplet that rolled down his cheek with your thumb. His arms fell heavily to the sides of his body. Before he could react properly, he let himself enjoy the touch, your touch, the feeling of you coming into contact with his skin. Although it only lasted a few seconds, he could still feel your touch when you pulled away.

“I’ll do it first so you can see, okay?” you said. You took the joint between your fingers elegantly and put it between your lips. You inhaled and held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. The smoke fell from your mouth and the wind carried it to Viktor, enveloping it in a cloud of smoke before dissipating into the air.

You approached him with slow steps, taking one of his hands and leaving the joint between his fingers. “It’s your turn,” you said, raising his hand to his mouth, “remember, don’t swallow the smoke,” you said in a joking tone.

“Ha ha, funny.” He rolled his eyes and brought the joint to his lips this time. He took a deep drag and held it for a while, holding onto his cane to use his free hand for something.

You were on the lookout for everything, in case he choked on the smoke again.

“Exhale,” you rested your hand on his chest, the small jump his chest made when he felt your fingers against his clothes was clear to you. Smoke came out from between his thin lips like a waterfall, you left your hand against his chest until you felt him breathe again. “My turn,” you said, taking the joint and taking another drag.

After a few puffs, Viktor is more relaxed and begins to notice things he wouldn't normally comment on. He looks at you with the curiosity of a small child.

“You know, you're surprisingly good at… this” he says as he holds the joint ready for another puff. “I thought only Jayce could convince me to do something stupid, but you seem more effective.”

You laughs, it's a rather polite comment coming from him. “Are you surprised? I have my methods.” You reply mischievously.

“Your methods…” he stares at you for a moment and mutters almost to himself. “They should be exclusive.”

As the joint gets smaller, the effect becomes much more noticeable. Viktor's eyes blink slowly and open like a deer's, his pupils almost completely obscuring the warm iris in his gaze. It doesn't take long for him to let out his first ramblings. By this point, they're both sitting on the floor, each in their own corner of the window with their legs outstretched.

“I like your eyes,” he blurts out of nowhere, clinging to his cane as if he were going to fall off if he doesn't. “It's fascinating. Like…like…like you're catching light in a jar.” He says with the sweetest smile you've ever seen. You're a bit stunned by his words, used to the reserved and serious Viktor, this is all a new air, you play along.

“Wow, was that a compliment? I should write it down for posterity,” you say, laughing. You've received compliments before, from people much more sober than Viktor is now, but it's different, that compliment hits differently, behind all the cool and carefree facade that comment manages to pierce your heart and leaves you sighing for that new side of Viktor. As if you discovered how hungry you were to receive something from him.

Viktor replied, with a smile that exuded confidence “You don’t need to write it down. I can tell you whenever you forget.”

You sighed “You’ll regret that so much when you’re sober…” you said. You didn’t want to take his words seriously, after all, believing someone on drugs was like believing someone drunk and that almost never went well. But it was advice that your own mind threw away right now.

While they were talking, Viktor, under the effects of the joint, began to think things that he normally wouldn’t say. “Why are you always so comfortable with Jayce?” he asks, letting his head fall against the wall, leaving his neck and collarbones bathed in light on display.

Confused, you arch an eyebrow “What? Jayce and I are friends, and he’s my boss, it would be terrible if I didn’t get along with him. Why are you asking?”

Viktor turns his gaze to you, you can feel a huge chill as you become his target, his hand playing with the cane at his side.

“You always laugh with him. You always flutter around him.” He says with a certain bitter tone that you can’t quite decipher. “It’s like he’s the only one who can make you laugh, the only one who deserves to enjoy you. I wish to have that.”

His answer surprises and intrigues you at the same time, you lean a little towards him wearing a mocking smile. The window isn’t very big, so it’s not like you’re far away anyway. “Are you jealous, Viktor?” The way you taste his name like honey runs through every nerve in his spine.

He’s clearly blushing, but he doesn’t back down, after all he has nothing to lose, if something goes wrong he’ll blame the drugs for everything.

“Maybe I am. What’s wrong with wanting your attention for me alone? Can't I want you?”

His words momentarily silence you, surprised by his sincerity. Something he takes advantage of to get closer to you, something you never thought he would do, he leans on his cane and before you know it your legs are trapped between his, and his free hand rests on your shoulder, caressing his way to your neck with his fingers. He looks so… surprisingly desperate, his breathing is irregular and his grip on his cane is weak. Having him so close makes the heat emanating from his body combine with yours, your heart is racing to have him so close and you have to use all your will not to do something stupid.

“It’s frustrating, you know? Seeing how you have such a good time with him and then you’re just silent with me… Don’t I deserve your laughter? Don’t I deserve your company?” You don't know how it hurts to want you, to want your smile, to want your gaze only on me, to want your touch desperately and see how you give it to someone else..." A gasp escapes his face and his body collapses, falling on your hip making you gasp in shock, everything is a mess "Want me, just want me."

"Viktor... You're... you're drugged... You're not seeing clearly." Your heart officially stops, his weight is against you, you can't and don't want to move. Each of his words ignites something inside you that could devour everything in its path.

He laughs, maybe because of nerves, maybe because of the effect of the grass or the tingling that your hands leave behind on his body, but he just laughs "I see enough to not want to share you with anyone else."

His gaze, normally focused and distant, now burned with something that seemed uncontrollable. There was tension in the air, a pent-up hunger that exploded the moment your arms wrapped around his neck.

He didn't wait any longer. With a quick, determined movement, he pulled you close, his cane clattering against the floor as he forgot about everything but you. His lips met yours with an almost brutal force, colliding with the intensity of lightning in the middle of a storm.

The first kiss was a chaos of urgency. Your mouths sought each other out like there was no tomorrow, lips parted, deep gasps escaping between each encounter. Viktor pushed you against the wall, his heavy, ragged breathing echoing in your ears. His hands, normally careful, were now hungry, desperate. One moved up your waist, running down your back under the fabric of your clothes, while the other leaned against the wall, locking you against his body.

You let yourself go completely, your fingers burying themselves in Viktor’s brown, tousled hair. His lips moved in a chaotic rhythm, alternating between wet kisses, bites on your lower lip, and that feverish exploration of your tongues that lit up your entire body. The soft sound of your mouths colliding and your panting filled the air, accompanied by your hands that now ran over his chest, his abdomen, without stopping.

When Viktor broke the kiss, it wasn’t to break away, but to drag his lips down your jaw, down to your neck. There, he left a series of wet, almost wild kisses, lightly sucking on the skin with a wet sound that drew a moan from your throat.

“You are...” he murmured against your neck, his voice raspy, broken, “incredible. I don’t want to stop.”

His words felt like caresses, so charged with emotion that your body trembled under his touch. Viktor's hands now slid down your waist, slowly moving up, exploring it with a reverence laden with desire. Each touch was a reminder of how much pent-up passion this man so accustomed to solitude harbored for you.

"Viktor..." you gasped against his neck, but he took your mouth again, cutting you off with another fierce kiss.

The sound of rustling clothes, of uneven breathing, and Viktor's soft grunts as he lost himself in you filled the room. His body was completely pressed against yours, and every movement of his seemed to be aimed at etching his presence into you, as if he feared it could all fade away at any moment.

When they finally broke apart, their lips were swollen, and their chests rose and fell rapidly. Viktor's eyes, normally filled with logic and calculation, were now deep pools of desire and devotion, reflecting every emotion he couldn't put into words.

“This isn’t enough,” he confessed, his voice shaking slightly as he looked at you as if you were the only important thing in the world. “It will never be enough with you.”

Your breathing was still ragged, the air between you filled with an almost palpable heat. Viktor kept his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed, while his hand remained firmly on your waist, as if letting go was unthinkable.

“This is dangerous...” Viktor murmured, although the tremble in his voice made it clear that the idea of stopping was an almost impossible challenge. His fingers continued to absentmindedly trace the curve of your back, as if his body refused to break contact.

“More dangerous than what you do with Hextech?” you replied in a whisper, sketching a slight smile, trying to lighten the tension of the moment.

Viktor’s response was caught in his throat when you both suddenly heard the echo of footsteps in the hallway. You both tensed instantly, your bodies rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over both of you. Realizing for the first time that dawn had already arrived and the sun was rising lazily on the horizon, the weed turned the hours into moments.

“Viktor, are you there?” Jayce’s deep, confident voice echoed just outside the door.

Viktor’s eyes snapped open, his pupils still dilated from the intensity of the moment. He cursed under his breath as he grabbed his cane from the floor, gesturing quickly towards the work table. You understood what he meant.

With your heart about to explode, you helped him stand up and hurried to adjust your clothes and move away from him, although your legs were shaking slightly from the heat still burning in your body. You pretended as best you could that nothing had happened, he walked over to his desk and you grabbed some papers from the floor.

The door opened barely a second later, not giving you time to fully regain your composure. Jayce walked in with his usual relaxed attitude, but his gaze narrowed instantly as he noticed the strange atmosphere that filled the room.

“Am I interrupting something…didn’t you go home Y/N?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, looking first at Viktor and then at you, lingering a second longer than necessary on your slightly swollen lips.

Viktor, always quick to react, stood up with his cane and pointed at a pile of papers scattered on his table.

“Nothing at all,” he said in his usual tone, though the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed his feigned calm. “We were just going over some calculations and cleaning up your mess.”

Jayce narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. He took in Viktor’s messy locks, the flushed cheeks on your face, and that palpable tension floating between the two of you.

“Going over calculations?” he repeated slowly, letting the phrase hang in the air with a mocking tone as he crossed his arms. “Because it seems that something else happened here.”

You forced a nervous smile as you began to organize the papers on the table, pretending the comment was outlandish. “Oh, come on Jayce, what could possibly happen here?” Your heart was still beating like a drum in your ears. Viktor, for his part, adjusted his posture and gave Jayce a sharp look, full of exasperation.

“If you have something important to say, do it quickly. We’re busy.” Viktor’s voice was sharp, as if he were trying to firmly divert attention.

Jayce tilted a smile, clearly amused by his friend’s reaction, but raised his hands in surrender.

“Relax, it’s nothing urgent. I just wanted to ask you something, but I can go get coffee while you finish. I don’t want to… interrupt your calculations.”

The emphasis on the last word followed him to the door, where he gave one last suspicious look before disappearing down the hall.

When the door finally closed, the silence in the room was deafening. You let out a nervous laugh, bringing your hand to your mouth, while Viktor let out a long sigh and let himself lean back against the table, holding himself up with one hand.

“This can’t happen again,” he murmured, though his eyes, still fixed on you, burned with an unmistakable desire that contradicted every word. “I don’t know how you make my brain feel so… scattered and focused at the same time.”

You smile and he replies mischievously as you drop your forehead on his shoulder, your breath brushing his neck. “It’s my secret talent.”

Viktor watches you for a moment and adds softly, “Then, save it for me.”

“Viktor, I think you’re too high to give romantic speeches.” You laugh softly and give him a small pinch on the arm.

“Maybe… but I’m not so high that I don’t know I want more than what’s happened tonight.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug. His chest heaves with a small laugh. “Shall we have breakfast at my house?”

The answer is more than clear.

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

💕Thank you for the 100 followers even though we already passed 4 more, thank you for everything💕

[awizix]

name: anti stress

character: nanami kento (jujutsu kaisen)

tags?: afab! reader, 18+, face sitting, handjob, it's so soft what the hell, petnames (love), reader isn't shaved (i said it.), being gentle and soft together.

words: around 2,3k

notes: nanami kento.......this man is always on my mind. my roman impire. i just wanted to write something about him so bad oh my god (and i did it with not one but two hands wow) + english isn't my first language

it's friday night.

you close the apartment door behind you as you let out a deep sigh. this day was a hell on earth, you're sure of it. you awkwardly take off your heels, carelessly tossing them on the doormat — you'll put them away later, you're too tired to care about it. (kento will probably do it himself — he always looks after you and your belongings).

you ungraciously walk to the kitchen in this pencil skirt that doesn't allow you to take bigger than normal steps and put boxes with take out food on the counter. it's 9:41 pm. a bit earlier kento sent a message asking what would you want for dinner but you replied that you will get take out today — you know this week was just as hard for him as it was for you. probably even harder so you said he shouldn't cook tonight or he might pass out from standing too much.

you walk towards living room as it's the only room with a light on (you know it's the lamp near tv that gives off warm, not too bright light — kento's eyes can get really tired by the end of the day).

you immediately notice him as you enter the room and even in your tired state a small smile appears on your face. he's sitting on the floor, with his back supported by the couch and his head laying on the soft cushion. he's still in his work suit and white shirt (even though now his clothes are all wrinkled from the long day). you notice a bowl with water on the coffee table near by and a wet cloth covering his eyes. you can see that he noticed your presence as well, slightly turning his face to you. you take off your jacket and throw it on the couch as you make your way towards him and slide to the floor, pressing yourself against him.

you both sigh at the contact, finally reunited after this hell of a day. you gently take the wet cloth as you start carefully wipe the excess water on his face and throw it back in the bowl. kento opens his eyes, these hazel orbs looking at you lovingly as he says "welcome home, love". you smile as your palms find their place on his face, gently caressing his stubble. the sensation isn't unpleasant under your fingertips, but you'll help him to shave in the morning. now? you don't want to move from the floor at all.

you get closer to his face and kiss him softly — a completely chaste kiss, just to feel each over, to relax and ground yourselves. he answers willingly, his strong hands grabbing your waist, squeezing and pulling your body closer. he mumbles, a slight mischief in his voice, "tired day?". you giggle as you hide your face in his chest.

he knows it was. the whole week was busy — you with your additional project at work and kento with missions, reports and meetings. you almost haven't seen each other at all this week, only exchanging quick sleepy kisses as kento was leaving too early in the morning for you to be up and you coming home too late to find him already sleeping in the bed. but it's friday. with whole two days of rest ahead.

so you say, quietly and smiling "a whole week, you can say". you massage the back of his neck, occasionally touching short hair of his undercut and he groans at the feeling. you ask him, unable to hide concern in your voice, "how are you feeling?". you know he works so hard sometimes, coming home with dark bags underneath his eyes and bruised body. he rolls his head back on the couch, closing his eyes, as he answers, "just tired. mission took longer than it was planned. but I'm unharmed".

you smile as your hands travel to his broad shoulders and god, you can't keep your hands off this man. even through layers of fabric you can feel his muscles and power hidden in his body. "can i do something? to help you to relax?"

kento is silent for a moment. "yes"

you angle your head, even if he can't see that. you hum, "hm?". you can make him his favourite tea or give him a massage (you read about it online just for him). so you expect something like that, not...

"sit on my face".

you blink several times and shake your head in disbelief. have you.... heard it correctly? "what?". suddenly, with his hands still on your waist, he tugs you closer and you almost fall on him but he holds you firmly but carefully like the most expensive treasure. your face is so close to his and he whispers into your lips, "sit on my face. please, love".

his hands start caressing your back, slowly running up and down, and your body runs hot on autopilot as a response to his touch. but then he kisses you and your mind goes blank — this kiss is nothing like the previous one. it's hot and wet as he licks your lips and his tongue enters your mouth. one of his hands presses your cheeks together, urging you to open your mouth wider and you comply as you moan instantly, feeling him sucking on your tongue.

he breaks a kiss and you look at him, breathless, your chest heaving, "i... i thought you were tired". he hums, his hot hands now exploring the front of your body through your work shirt — he slides them from your exposed neck to your breasts, palming them through your bra, lower to your soft stomach and then up again. "and this is exactly what will help me to relax".

you swallow hard. gosh, he's impossible. you use his shoulders for leverage as you try to get up, "okay, okay. just give me 10 minutes? I'll shower and then..."

"no. don't".

you look at him, puzzled, "hm? what? what do you mean?"

his wandering hands slide lower, gripping your ass as he says, "want you right now. here".

you smile at him, gently shaking your head, "kento, love, i took a shower in the morning but i spent the whole day on my feet, okay? I'm probably sweaty and...".

"and i want you just like that", kento's raspy voice interrupts you. you look at him, his gaze serious but full of desire and want, his pupils dilated with lust pooling in them. you whisper, "are you... are you sure?".

"yes, I'm sure".

you get up, still nervous but with unmistakable heat burning between your thighs. you start pulling your pencil skirt down as kento's hands gently brush against the back of your calfs. next, you tug down your sheer tights and simple cotton underwear and kento groans at the sight of your pussy, "fuck, thought about this beauty the whole week". he pulls you closer as he starts leaving hot wet kisses on your thighs, getting closer and closer to your heat. there, he inhales deeply and moans. you feel blood rushing to your face as you mumble, "kento, oh my god...".

he looks up at you with a small smile as he plants several kisses to the dark patch of hair. you moan — both at the feeling and how unbelievable he is — as you gently caress his hair. he rolls his head back, laying it on the couch and gently slaps your thighs, "come on. get on, love".

you silently follow his order, getting on the couch facing its back, with his head between your parted legs. his strong arms hug your thighs as he pulls you lower and lower until you're completely seated. a shudder runs through you at the feeling of his stubble gently brushing against the soft skin of your inner thighs.

you grip the back of the couch until it hurts a little as you feel his hot tongue pressed completely flat against your womanhood as he starts licking you. he sucks on your folds and teases your clit with a pointed end of his tongue — you start rocking involuntarily, but kento's hands just squeeze harder, locking you in the place.

you whine and mewl as he keeps licking, sucking and kissing — you're so wet you can hear slurps and squelches. you start impatiently unbuttoning your shirt, fingers shaking and not listening too well. halfway through, you grow annoyed and with just a half of buttons undone, you take it off through you head, throwing in on the couch somewhere. you quickly take off your bra and a loud moan erupts from you as you grab your tits, gently rolling perky nipples between your own fingers.

kento's hands disappear from their place on your thighs and with newfound freedom you can't help but start riding his face, just a little, just a bit of back and forth. after a moment you hear a zipper being pulled down, rustling of fabric and feel kento letting out a dreamy sigh, hot air hitting your sensitive folds, as he starts stroking himself.

you whine and shut your eyes as you imagine what he looks like — still in his suit, with his incredible dick out, gently palming himself as he smears precum on the soft skin and brings you closer to the cloud 9 with his wonderful hot tongue.

kento's free hand slides higher, joining yours in palming and massaging your tits as his wet tongue starts entering you that makes your thighs shake. he gently bites your folds and you arch with a loud mewl, parting your legs even wider in your attempt to get his face even closer to your heat. he pinches your nipples softly that earns a loud shriek from you and you can feel him smirking.

you get closer and closer to your orgasm from his skillful movements and as he angles his face so he could plunge his tongue deep into you with his nose pressing against your cute clit and you suddenly cum with a silent moan. your thighs press together, shaking, trapping his head between them but it seems he doesn't mind in the slightest as he eagerly drinks your juices, licking you clean.

you're panting like you just ran a maraphon as you guide your shaking hand to his head — still between your thighs — to softly pat his hair. you look down and by the creases around his eyes you know kento's smiling. you gigle as you get up with a wet sound and slide lower to find your place on his lap as he still slowly strokes himself.

you start unbuttoning his shirt as he keeps his pace — he's close, but he's not in a hurry. you kiss him, wet and hot, as you finally get your hands on his hard chest and stomach. you almost purr as your hands glide lower and accidently touch his hard cock. you smile in the kiss as you put your hand on top of his moving one, your fingertips gently carassing his hot dick. your other hand is softly rubbing his velvet skin, coated with a thin layer of sweat. you can feel a rapid heartbeat under your palm and the way his lungs expand with each inhale. you gently caress his hardened nipples and he groans in your mouth.

he lets go of the hold on the dick, allowing you to take the reins as his hands start touching your body, gently caressing your sides but almost aggresively grabbing and sqeezing your tits. you whine pitifully as you wrap your hand around him, gripping him firmly and stroking him fast — just the way kento loves. you break the kiss, you two looking at each other and breathing the same air. you feel muscles of his abs tightening under your fingertips as you whisper breathly, "like that?". he's nodding as he guides your body closer to him, your moving hand now trapped between your bodies. "yeah....fuck, yeah, like that. just.....just touch the head".

you hum and move your palm to the mushroom like head of his dick, wrapping a tight circle around it as you start stroking him there — firmly and vigorously. that earns you a low moan from kento as his head rolls back, exposing his sensetive neck and you can't help yourself as you start kissing his salty skin, marking him lightly and gently biting his adam's apple.

a minute later he groans, eyes shut and his body tensed, as he cums with his warm seed getting on his chest and stomach as well as your fingers. you slow down your movements, helping him to ride his high and milking him. after several moments you retrieve your hand to grab a wet cloth from the bowl. you clean your hand and carefully wipe kento's body as his tired gentle eyes follow your every movement. you throw it back in the bowl and he pulls you closer, his hands secure around your waist.

he kisses you then, deeply but without any heat — only love and gratitude. you gigle quietly, breaking the kiss and looking at him warmly. he smiles at you, "thank you, love".

"feel better?".

"so much better".

you raise your hands and stretch, muscles tensing for a moment but relaxing a second later. unbeknownst to you, kento's gaze glides on your body — soft tummy and the way your tits move. you're so beautiful. he kisses the place between your breasts and you laugh softly. he whispers, "i love you".

you gently caress his face, "love you too".

"shower?".

"oh my god, yes".

P.S. istg if he was real i would have to be put down like a feral animal.

[suguru-getos]

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — K. Bakugou x f!Reader

Summary: You, a top model meet pro hero Dynamight on your Victoria's Secret fashion show. You didn't know how easily you both could cling like magnets. Maybe you found your soulmate, why else does it seem so easy? So loving? So ethereal? A/N: I missed writing my Jerk (Bakugou) so here I go. The character is giving off Y/N from Wattpad almost (KEKEKEK) :3 What! Sue me! Also brb gonna take a bath in holy water after this. Not beta'd take the typos like a pro ;) also this is probably my longest fic IN A WHILE and that's saying something!!! Warnings: N!pple play, F!ingering, S3x(P in V), missionary, doggy-style, squ!rting, breed!ng, dirty talk, spank!ngs. Let me know if I missed anything. :3 Oh and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

You sucked in a breath when you heard the announcements go off, the announcer urging the models to get done with their hair & makeup fast. It wasn’t like any other show, honestly. It was the Victoria’s Secret show. The internet alone can swamp any and every other news when this ‘phenomenon’ occurs. You have been on a strict diet of salads, high pilates & cardio, and for the past two days — dehydration to show your abs more. Being a successful model is all about making it look effortless even if it’s all graft, tenacity & utterless devotion. No career is easy at the end of the day after all.

“Y/n, are you okay? The show is about to start.” Your manager, also the manager of this event comes up to you, long, poised strides in her red bottom pencil heels. She’s wearing a satin, well-tailored coat and a skirt. “Can’t wait to munch on a fucking burger and drink a gallon of cold soda.” You smirk, your eye makeup was completed, the final touches of the makeup setting spray was splayed on by the makeup artist tending to you.

“You look gorgeous, Y/n.” He commented, voice feminine & fashion sense incredible. He was gay, and one of your best friends in the industry. “Man, so many people would be here in the show.” You snorted, “who’s coming to sing?” Your curiosity is piqued. There is always a star who comes in and makes sure the runway ends up a much better experience.

“It’s Jungkook.” Your manager responds curtly.

“Fuckin’ hell they literally bagged Jungkook?” You scoffed almost, ah— shit. Jungkook has a massive following, of course they would. Even if he’s your ex boyfriend. Of course they fucking would. You pursed your lips, your relationship with him was entirely kept a secret. He’s an idol, worshipped infact— and that ended up for the best when you parted ways. The NDA was perfect. Though you often wondered if the glamour you chose for yourself would ever allow you a fair chance at getting the right partner.

“Eh, Jungkook’s not my type.” Your bestie, the makeup artist Samuel hums, his shoulders shrugging up. “I got my eyes on the heroes.” He winks, adjusting the last finished strands of your hair. The heroes…

“I don’t understand why the heroes are invited to stuff like these.” You roll your eyes. It is weird to think about. He chuffs, “oh come on— they’re just as big of celebrities & events like these are all about glamour and showing off.” He snorts, “Dynamight’s coming, Star and Stripes is coming, a lot of the heroes who are under the top three would be here. Gahh I wonder how Dynamight looks in a suit… dude’s fucking jacked. I’m drooling just thinking about it.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Okay okay, drooling dog. Leave me alone and let me calm my tits before the walk begins.”

Dynamight huh, Katsuki Bakugou. The number one hero of Japan. He is popular enough, you have seen him bag the Calvin Klein’s Times Square ad. Your fingers itched towards your phone, searching up Dynamight on Instagram. There were two accounts. One of them was the official hero account, named Dynamight. The other was— seemingly his personal account, it was named BakugouKatsuki. Both of them were public though. Ah, you will stalk him later. Now isn’t the best time.

You get up, itching in your feet into the pencil heels and stretching your body. Amidst the ruckus, you were given your Victoria’s Secret wings, and your lingerie set. It was beautiful, you’d give them that. They do end up spending and extravagant amount of money for this after all. “Phew, I’m ready.”

There were other models lined up before you, you had been the show-stopper. It’s flamingly obvious not to think much about yourself, but you’d give yourself credit for being one of the top models in the entire industry. You also have a whooping Instagram following, and your socials are always stacked with brand deals. Jungkook was singing Seven, a safe version. You don't want to be delusional and think he chose that song because he wrote it for you, nah, you and him are over for good. Besides, he was in a parasocial relationship with his fans. That's just not your vibe.

You exhaled, engaging your core and coming out finally. It was your turn to go in and leave the crowd in absolute awe. Your time to shine! Yeah, your time to shine. No matter how many shows you have participated in, the feeling before the runway is second to none. You stepped out, peppering flying kisses to the crowd as you passed by Jungkook, catwalking.

You didn't think the first person your eyes would meet would be Bakugou himself, it was eye contact that lasted a few seconds, as you turned around and walked back inside, coming out with the fashion designer and clapping.

"What was that Bakubro?" Red Riot was sitting beside his high school best friend, smirking when he noticed Katsuki caught red-handed. "Didn't you say you have no interest in watching models and this was a waste of time?" He snickers, pulling Katsuki's leg.

Katsuki.... on the other hand, was mesmerized. He had never seen someone so beautiful. Honestly, he wasn't one to keep up with the models and the glamour the industry had to offer. He had a simple routine, focus on training, go patrolling, partake in brand deals, and sleep by 9 pm. This seemed different, especially when the eye contact you both had was so magnetic. What the fuck was happening to him he wondered... why was he behaving like a high school student all over again. Dynamight was in his late twenties now. It's not to say that he hasn't dated people at all, he has, in fact, he has a fair share of girlfriends too. He just wasn't expecting you to latch onto his heart & rip it out of his chest (respectfully).

Maybe he dan divert his mind until after the show. The Victoria's Secret brand had dealings with the Bulgari Hotel in Milan. (Where the show was held), of course, your and Katsuki's suites would be on the same floor. The show was a huge success, you knew it the moment you walked back inside and got jump-hugged by the entire team. They loved your walk, and it made you grin like an appreciated child.

"Finally I can binge." You snickered, getting out after thirty minutes or so from the show. In your head, the eye-contact with the ruby-eyed man was nothing much, merely a coincidence perhaps. You don't know much about Bakugou Katsuki anyway. You do tell your gay best friend about it though, chuckling & giggling at how he loses his mind over it. "I think Dynamight will stay in the same hotel as mine, but before leaving, I can secure an autograph for you if you'd like."

"YOU'D DO THAT?" Samuel is on top of the world when he hears your offer. How nice and kind of you. "I could do that of course!" You smile, he has been great and helpful in calming your nerves before your show. You can do that for him without thinking twice. "Great, thank you so much Y/N! You are a literal gem." He whines, kicking feet in excitement. "Dynamight's known for being intimidating and a no-bullshit guy, so just be...careful." He smiled. You raised a brow at the description, chuckling. Whatever, it's just an autograph. You were sure Samuel was just fangirling.

You walked towards Bakugou and his friend Red Riot, wearing a plain white tee shirt and some shorts. A Prada handbag over your shoulder, Cartier bracelet set on your left arm, and some boots just so you look fine in case you get accidentally papped. "Uh oh, Hottie alert, Hottie alert. She's coming this way Bakugou." Kirishima warns, while Katsuki doesn't turn, smirking. "Maybe she's into you just as much huh?" "Shut up, Kiri. I'm not even into her." What a lie, what a damned lie, because when you tap his shoulder, his entire body shudders.

"Hey- Dynamight, hi!" You smile, watching him turn to face you. Geez, he's tall and big, the blonde doesn't make him look any less intimidating. He has a scar on his eye but it only accentuates his gruff and masculine look. You swallow, "Hey there." Katsuki raises a brow, smirking at you. "Y/N right? The fabulous show stopper." He praises, and you can't help but blush a little.

"Hehe, yeah, thank you so much." You gently tussle through your bag, taking out a notepad. "Can I please get an autograph?" You smile, you wouldn't be one of those cunts who would outrightly say that it's not for you. Why do you need to specify explicitly anyway? "Aww, she's a fan?" Katsuki grins, taking the notepad from you. "Haha!" You don't respond. You don't want to ruin the vibe of the interaction. Unlucky for you, Bakugou is a pest. "So should I write Y/N, or ShowStopper Y/N?" He smirked, uh oh... "You can make two?" You raised a brow, smiling softly. "One for me and one for Samuel, my makeup artist." You smile. "Sure can." He writes the autograph, smirking, "You didn't want an autograph did ya?" Ouch, how did he catch you red-handed so easily? "Hm? Why do you feel so?" You raise a brow, taking the notepad from him. "I'm the number one hero of Japan, Sweetheart. I got my own tricks up my sleeve." He smirked, oh what a charming guy. You wonder why is he infamous for being intimidating then... maybe just his personality and his looks. "I don't mind getting one, honestly, who knows I might become a fan in the future." You smiled back. "Oh yeah? That's gonna make me real fuckin' proud of yer taste, Sweetheart." He grins, and Kirishima has long excused Bakugou and you to chitchat alone.

You chuckled, oh my, he was cocky and yet charming enough to pull it off. Meanwhile, all Bakugou thought was how your eyes are so pretty, and you smile so easily it should be illegal. Your smile makes even the crankiest of people smile. Him included.

"Whatcha doin' after this?" He asks you, raising a brow. Please be free, please be free. "Ah- it's just, my own ritual of unwinding after fashion shows to go and binge on junk food. I am going to this amazing pizza place." You smile, and Bakugou notices your body, you are stunning, but it's clear you need to maintain unrealistic standards for this. "Mind if I join?" He confidently asks, Bakugou Katsuki's confidence ever since he was a child was sky high. He doesn't mind chasing what he wants, he doesn't mind latching on to what he wants. He doesn't mind putting in the work for what he wants. Whether it's the number one hero ranking, or his new ambition - You.

"You can." You perk up, of course, you don't mind that. You wonder if he's asking you on a date or just hanging out with you. "Alright then, let's go?" You ask him again, truth be told you were starving. You need a lot of water down your stomach and also, food. "Lead the way Kitten."

You blink at the nickname, Kitten? "Kitten?" You snorted, why? "Yeah, cus you walk the show like a little lion cub," he smirked, quite assertive behind his reasoning. It makes your heart flutter. "I, see... interesting. Is it something you do? Give people you like, nicknames?" "Yeah, it's a me thing," Katsuki smirked, he loved how you sneakily asked him whether he likes you or not. "I do that to people I hate too though." He teased, biting his lip and smirking at the confused pout. "Not you though, I like ya." He admits upfront. Katsuki doesn't want to play games. It's either he doesn't give a shit, or he's into it dedicatedly.

You gnaw at your lip, walking ahead of him, thank god your back is turned towards him. Else you'd be embarrassed of just how easily he can sway you off your feet. You and him get into the car after, driving to the nearest pizza place. Your knees touch during the car ride, fuck why are you thinking about the slightest of touches Jesus! Neither of you avoid the touch though. "So I'm guessing the pre-walk schedule is pretty ass, huh?" You like that he wants to know about you in a 'I want to get to know you better' sense and not in a 'I want to hook up and leave you after' sense. "Yeah, the last four days I have been dehydrated. I can enjoy in peace now though, before the next show." You nod, looking at him in the eyes, evaluating his expressions. Bakugou looks, conflicted. On one hand, he admires this, on the other hand, he's pissed that this is what gets imposed. He clicks his tongue, "If I were to organize a damn show I'd make sure none of the dehydration shit happens, tch." You chuckle at how intensely he feels about it. It makes you feel validated, makes you feel seen and heard. "Yeah? Maybe you can organize one for your merch." You winked.

"Fuckin' Brilliant aren'tcha?" Katsuki exclaims, grinning wide. He would, and you'd be the show stopper, and it would be a statement towards normalizing human bodies. It sounds so perfect in his head, he would definitely bother his Assistant about this later.

When you both reached the Pizza place, Bakugou gets your door, smirking when you are almost shocked by it. "What? The least ya can do is expect a Hero to be chivalrous, ye?" You giggle, holding his hand, noticing the sheer difference in your hands versus his. Your hands are soft, meek, delicate, having their own hand care routine. His hands are smooth, a little moist due to sweat which you think doesn't bother him. It doesn't bother you either honestly. Plus, he smells amazing... almost in a way that could make you dizzy from it all.

"Um, what should I call you? Dynamight? Bakugou? Katsuki? Japanese people prefer to be called by their last name until they explicitly give permission, no?" You have done a few shows in Japan and know a thing or two about their culture. Bakugou only smirks harder, holding your hand & caressing it with the pad of his thumb, he leans it up to show you. "If I'm holdin' yer hand, I'd prefer to be called Katsuki, Sweetheart." "Y-Yeah, right." You are flustered. The way he looks at you is so intense and yet calming. This man is almost paradoxical.

You both get inside, taking one of the cozy booths of the restaurant. The vibe of the place is luxurious, Grenadil, African Blackwood, lamps which are delicately hand-carved. The place speaks Old-Money.

Bakugou takes a seat next to you, handing you the laminated menu with exquisite handwritten Calligraphy, "There ya go." He smirks. You notice the menu he has given you has no prices on the dishes. He has his own menu. "Uh, they have no money imprinted, are you sure this menu is okay?" This is your first time seeing this. "Yeah, s' okay. S' cus y'er not supposed to be worrying about the price of the dishes." He says it rather assertively. "The man should." He shows his menu. Oh- Of course, for a place this extra, they would have some new ritual like this for all the trophy-wives. "Katsuki- no- I'd feel guilty." You pouted. "Yeah? Yer gonna feel guilty for it bein' my job to spoil ya? On a date? Our first date?" All of a sudden, every doubt in your mind is faded. Things were escalating so quickly yet, you feel like you know this man for years, how bizarre, how comforting, how amazing! The way your heart breaks into little palpitations of excitement is second to none.

You looked down, a hue of red creeping into your cheeks. ''Gah would ya look at that!" Bakugou points at your flustered expression instantly. "She's the prettiest baddest Queen in this world, and I got her feelin' cutesy and feminine, ye?" Yes, yes it has... it's always the little things after all. You chuckle, looking up at him, extending your hand over the table so he could hold it. "You smell amazing, Katsuki." You compliment him too.

Honestly, you have never felt someone smelling this amazing as Bakugou. "Yeah? Part of my charm." He croons in his gravelly voice, the tip of his tongue brushing his upper teeth in a mischievous grin. "S' a part of my quirk." He admits, leaning back and manspreading a little. Your heart feels like it would jump out of your chest at that, you swallow the thick lump of saliva. "Yeah?" "Yeah, that's right Sweetheart." Bakugou hums again, kissing your knuckle. "What about you, have any quirks?" "Unfortunately, nope." You chuckle, a little embarrassed. You know if this man is the number one hero of Japan, he must have a formidable quirk after all. "Aw, she's my little quirkless rarity gem ain't she?" "Yeah."

Katsuki's words were healing something within you that you didn't know was broken. You were feeling all sorts of things, slightly aghast at how easily your senses feel dizzy around the true embodiment of masculinity. A little merry on how you don't have to think about anything and let him take care of you. You needed this after the tough show you've had. You ordered a pizza, and some drinks with it. "So, what next?" You don't want to get too ahead of yourself either. Maybe all this could fade the moment you both sleep together.

"Next, we go on another date, then another, then another. In between those dates, I'll steal a kiss or two." He grins. Making you chuckle, how old school... "That's all you will steal?" You ask him, quite upfront on your own this time. "Mm~ I can't be too greedy or I might make a certain Kitten uncomfortable." He winks.

"Would I make a certain hero uncomfortable if I stole more than a kiss?" You smirk, watching Bakugou grin in surprise. "Nah, the hero wants what his Princess wants." He admits shamelessly.

The dinner goes by in a haze, Bakugou asks you about your family, how many people are there in your nuclear family, you ask him, a little bit of what and hows about starting a career. You get to know he's a Taurus, and his MBTI Type is ENTJ, his Enneagram is 8w7. No wonder he is so steadfast and determined. The dinner ended with you two getting back to go to the same hotel, walking and chit-chatting through your lives, how a daily routine in your lives looks like, favourite coffee order, favourite animals, favourite bands, favourite brands, favourite foods.... until Bakugou was in front of your suite.

"Uhm, goodnight Katsuki." You smile, getting on your tippy toes and kissing his lips softly. A burning sensation ripples through your nerves instantly. Oh no- now you can't stop. Now he can't stop. There is an unsaid desperation in the way you & him deepen the kiss, a relief washing over you as the suite's door gets unlocked with a beeping sound of your card against the sensor.

You jump on him immediately, cupping his face, scratching his undercut, rabid pants echoing through the room as you lean back to catch a breath. "Wildin' aren't we?" Bakugou smirked, leaning you against the wall with his hand supporting the back of your head as he kissed you more, fuck you have awakened something carnal within him. "Yeah- yeah-" You manage to choke on your breaths as he dives against your neck, nibbling at the supple skin, licking the tender ache. "Katsuki- please-" You want more. Especially now when you can feel his semi nudged against your heat. You want it so bad, you didn't even know him a few hours ago... and now here you were.

"Yeah? Are ya sure?" He asks, seriously. He doesn't need this to be hurried. "Yeah, I'm sure."

And that was all Bakugou needed, his lips smashing against you once more, tongue exploring your mouth, colliding against yours, his mouth wrapping around your tongue and suckling nastily. Katsuki leans back, a string of saliva connecting your lips and his. He supports you by your booty, hands kneading the area on your clothed shorts as he manspreads on the couch, watching how you straddle him. You take off your shirt on your own, and unhook your tee shirt bra next. Before you can switch to your shorts, Katsuki removes his own shirt. Oh my god-

He is jacked, and there are battle scars all over his body. Your hand leans in, absentmindedly tracing one of them. You could only imagine how dangerous it must be, how dangerous his line of work is. Everyday he keeps his life on the line to protect people like you - to protect those who can't fend for themselves. Your eyes softened, and Bakugou notices you lean into the duvet of your thoughts. "Hey, they're from years ago." He smirked, kissing your cheek. "Literal years, when I was Baby Dynamight." He chuckled, lightening up your mood instantly. He leans in, hands kneading and groping at your now perky breasts and tits. "She's fuckin' stunning god damn." He cusses under his breath, eagerly wrapping his tongue around one of the nipples, while his fingers pinched and played around with the other. The sensation sends waves of pleasure down your core, it aches so deliciously good. You lean your head back, gasping out at the welcomed assault on your body. This was beyond perfect. "Katsuki-" You mumbled, just chanting his name as he switches to the other nipple, his hand caressing your sides, knuckles caressing the temples of your cheek. "Mhm~ so perfect, Princess."

Every action only makes you dive deeper into a space you've never dived on before. His fingers skilfully unbutton your shorts next, peeling off your panties. "Let's check what's the situation." He smirks, though his ruby eyes are steeled on your face. Massive hands cupping your bare pussy, you can feel your essence coat his palm, but you're not shy anymore. You want him to know he does this to you. You want him to be aware of the effect he has on you. "Fuckin' soaking." He smirked, middle finger and ring finger parting your entrance while his middle finger nudged against your tight hole. The tip pierces inside your pussy almost instantly. "Oh perfect little thing." He snickers, curling it just the right way to make your eyes roll back. "Yeah baby, keep makin' that pretty face f'me." He groans, leaning in and latching onto your sensitive tits again. "Not sorry bout it in the least, need to mark ya." He groans, suckling against your skin, marking your breasts in hickeys while he drills his finger inside your cunt. The pleasure has you reeling soon, eyes rolling back. "Katsuki- please-" you buck your hips against him helplessly, pussy twitching and fluttering shamelessly. "Yeah baby? Gonna cum?" He croons, smirking at the way your body gets littered in goosebumps. "Mhm~ Yeah." You nodded like a bobble head, the pleasure reaching new heights. "Gonna make a mess on Daddy's fingers?" he asks again, almost edging you. The new nickname has you clamping tightly as a reaction, Bakugou chuckles. "Then cum."

Your entire body shivers at the assault, his thumb finding it's way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles around the bundle of nerves, watching you tweak and tremble. "Atta girl! Good job little one." He smirked, quickly changing your position to laying on the couch with him hovering over you. His hand never leaves your clit, pulling out a long and tiring orgasm as his massive cock greets you. Before you could say anything before you could protest in whines that his massive, veiny cock could never fit inside you. It could break you- his cock fills you up instantly.

You see white, your senses are torn apart. The pain surges through your body like venom, filled with excruciating amounts of pleasure. You scream out, cunt almost ripped open despite being so wet and so lubed. "Kah- AH- t'suki-" You are broken, this is exactly how you expected it to feel like. Still, you want him to move, you want him to make you feel better. You want him to show you how it feels when he's pistoning this inside and out, when he's ruining your insides his shape.

Bakugou leans in, caressing your face and peppering it with soft kisses. "Yeah Princess, you did it." He praises, and you couldn't help but rut your hips against him at the praise. You need him. "Uh huh? Wan' Daddy to take care of you?" He smirked at that, relishing your shameless movements, his cock jams against your pussy, fervour akin to an animal in a rut. You feel so good he can't help but want more either, thrusts powerful enough to cause your breasts to jiggle from the impact. "Atta girl, look at you, taking me like yer made for me." he groans, watching your fucked out expressions, listening to your melodious cries that only make him push you further. "Kah- Mm!"

His hand caresses your clit, pinching at the sensitive bundle of nerves, tap-slapping it, caressing it, playing with it. Every movement sends you reeling towards the peak of pleasure. It's not too long before you feel like cumming again, a familiar knot building in your pelvis, eager to snap. "Gonna fill ya up, yeah? Need your insides to know who knocked em up' need yer pussy to know who fucked her up, who stretched her up, who ripped her up to his shape-" The way he speaks is making you spiral, your mouth falls agape as another orgasm tears through you. Helplessly wailing and letting your pussy flutter around his muscular and veiny cock. His own release comes with it, hot and thick seed painting your insides his.

You're panting like you've just run a marathon, Bakugou's sweat only making your senses hazy with its sweet, caramel scent.

"Got one more in ya?" Bakugou asks with a smirk, watching your eyes widen. You are thinking, you are contemplating. "N-never did it before." You answered honestly. "Good, then it's my princess' first time." He smirked, manhandling you to bend over the couch's arm rest, letting your legs nudge together. "Get on yer tippy toes Kitten." he kneads at your ass, spanking it once just to test the waters.

The whore-ish moan that comes out of your mouth at that only makes him more amazed. "She likes spankings huh?" He smirks, slapping on the other side and watching his hand print cover almost your whole ass cheek. "Fuck-" He hissed at the sight, watching you get on your tippy toes as he pierces your cum-dripping pussy once again. Your stomach is already pressed by the arm-rest. The position is enough to make you see stars, you can't form words. Just mewling and moaning with mouth open. His thrusts are a lot precise, a lot sharper, a lot more calculated and a lot more rough.

The force of his pelvis colliding against your ass feels like spankings in itself, your womb is crying at the feeling, your cunt squelching and making lewd noises that echo like music to his ears, just perfectly entwined with your loud moans. "Fuck- you are bloody gonna have me addicted to this shit." He groans, sounds of pap- pap- paps filling the room.

You feel weird, you feel like you could pee from the pressure alone. "Katsuki- feel like gonna squirt." You whine, embarrassed. "Aw, it's okay, do it." He hums, hand wrapping around your hair and tilting your head back for a passionate kiss.

And so you let go, you don't have any choice anyway with his thrusts ripping your pussy. "Fuck- fuck-" and so you end up squirting, the liquid dripping down your thighs as you cum your brains out. Katsuki tips off the edge at the sight too, oh what a lovely mess indeed. "Oh that's fuckin' incredible" He chuckles, slowing his thrusts to a stop.

You are floating in subspace already. You can't believe the hero you were going to stalk on Instagram has your insides bred, twice. Katsuki carries you princess-way and takes you to the bedroom, "gonna get ya some water, you were so amazin' holy shit Princess." he chuckles, peppering your face with soft, feather-like kisses. You only hum and groan in response, he literally fucked your brain into mush.

He returned with some water and added electrolytes that he found in the fridge to ensure better hydration. "Come on, champ, c'mere." He cradles you on his lap like a baby - his baby to be precise. He held the glass for you, letting you drink from the straw while his other hand is busy petting your body soothingly, your arms, your hair, your back.

"Do you want to sign an NDA? If we're gonna be a thing?" You asked him, genuinely curious, but it upsets him that this is the first thing that you say. This industry really is disgusting. "Nah, I'd like you to sign an NBA."

You raised a brow, what does that mean? "Mm?"

"Non-Breakup Agreement" He chuckled, watching you giggle too as he leaned in and kissed your lips.

[prythianpages]

Too Good To Be True | Lucien x Reader

...you're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...

summary: in which your newest muse catches you red handed.

word count: 1,600

a/n: I do struggle writing Lucien but I had seen this tiktok and wanted to write a meet-cute over it and when I saw this fanart above made by IG user kri_stasss_, I took this as a sign lol. I also listened to the song can't take my eyes off of you like 100x while writing this.

With a sigh, you lean back into your seat, allowing your eyes a break. You had been sitting at the corner of the bustling cafe for over an hour, choosing to surround yourself with Velaris’s warmth and the smell of coffee in the hopes to finally draw something.  But your sketchbook is spread open on the table with a half-finished drawing.

You look at the view before you, the Sidra River shimmering like pure sapphire under the sun’s gaze. The leaves of surrounding trees rustling gently in the soft spring breeze and flowers vibrant hues adorn the riverwalk. It’s a beautiful sight–one that many stop and admire. Yet, it is not enough to fuel the inspiration you so desperately need.

The flowing water and distant laughter of children blend into a soothing symphony as you absentmindedly twirl your pencil between your fingers, thoughts drifting. Send me a muse, you plead to the Cauldron, yearning to feel that thrill again.That spark that ignites your passion of drawing. The very one that moves your hand effortlessly across the paper.

The sound of iron against pavement startles you, pulling you from your thoughts. You blink your eyes back into focus and instinctively, they land on the source of the noise. The table diagonal from you, that had been vacant for the past hour, now has an occupant. An occupant who is blocking your view of the Sidra River, the very one that is half drawn across your sketchbook.

But you can’t bring yourself to complain.

Not when there is a man of striking beauty seated there. 

His mere presence commands your attention, his red hair catching the sunlight and gleaming like fire. You feel your breath catch in your throat as your eyes trace the elegant lines of his face. Brutal scars mar the left side of his face–from his brow all the way down to his jaw. 

Despite this, the male is devastatingly handsome. Ethereal. 

Too good to be true, you think, finding yourself captivated by his eyes. His right eye, whole and russet-colored, holds a depth that draws you in. But his left eye…His left eye is a mechanical marvel, golden and intricate, and gleaming with an otherworldly light.  

And suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to touch him. To reassure yourself that he is real and not just a figment of your imagination. Gods, with a face and built body like his, he’d be heaven to touch…

A rush of excitement floods your veins and you feel a familiar thrill coursing through you. Your hands are turning the pages of your sketchbook until a blank page sits before you. And before you know it, you’re pouring your awe and fascination into each stroke of your pencil. Your eyes flicker up and down as you commit the details to mind, heart pounding every time with the fear of being caught. 

Though you're cautious about it, you’re too lost in his eyes to catch the way the male’s lips curve slightly upwards.

**

Lucien takes the last sip of his coffee, admiring the sight before him. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in twilight hues and dancing across the Sidra River. Along the riverwalk, Fae stroll leisurely. Couples walk hand in hand, children skipping along the cobblestone path, pausing to catch the fireflies that are now visible in the dimming light.

Velaris was proving to be more beautiful with each passing day—a sight he’d never expected from a place like the Night Court. All his life, he had only come to know the Court of Nightmares. A place that truly lived up to his name. And though there were children laughing and running freely, he couldn’t help but still be wary of the City of Starlight. It was still part of the Night Court, after all.

His eyes scan along the riverwalk, golden eye making a soft sound as it moves, in search of something. Or rather, someone. Just as a frown is about to settle on his face, he finds what he was searching for. The reason why he was at this cafe…despite the fact that the best espresso in town was at a little coffee shop in the Rainbow of Velaris.

You.

You are sitting at a bench, knees drawn up and a sketchbook nestled onto your lap. As the sun continues to make its descent, the street lamp near you croaks to life. It bathes you in its soft glow and he is able to appreciate the slight furrow of your brow, the slight way your lips purse in concentration. He wants to know what you're drawing.

Ever since he caught you staring at him at this very cafe, he had an inkling as to what may be hidden within those pages of your sketchbook. He had meant to approach you about it but you had been so into your sketch, he found the sight endearing and feared disrupting you. 

So he had left you to it and showed up to the cafe the next day at the same time in the hopes of seeing you again and he did. That time, your gazes had met and though it had been brief, it felt everlasting. He remembers the way your cheeks tinted with blush before you turned your head away, flustered at being caught. If only you had seen the way he had smiled softly to himself afterwards.

It’s been days since that incident. Though he didn’t find you in that same spot the day after, he came to the conclusion that this was your favorite area to frequent in Velaris. It slowly became his too, his eyes always finding you amongst the busy riverwalk. 

Lucien had never been the shy type–at least, not when it came to pursuing people he was interested in. He had just been waiting for the right time–for the right moment to talk to you. And as you closed your sketchbook with a light exhale, his heart fluttered as he realized what better time than now.

**

Calling it a night, you close your sketchbook with a soft sigh. The sun had been replaced by the moon and the street lamp’s light was too dim for your liking to continue you drawing. You feared messing up what you had meticulously spent hours on. As you rise from the bench and turn to make your way back home, you bump into a smaller frame than yours, the sketchbook in your hold falling from your grasp.

“Sorry, miss!” A lively voice chirps and when you look toward the source, the small child is already far away from you. Kids, you muse to yourself as you turn back around.

Your breath catches in your throat. Standing right in front of you is the male who has become your muse.

But he’s not looking at you.

No, he’s looking at the sketchbook on the ground. Your heart skips a beat, heat rising to your face. The sketchbook had opened to the pages you've been working on—the ones with multiple sketches of his eyes.

You’re frozen in horror, watching as he studies your work. None of you say anything for a moment. It’s when his gaze lifts to yours that you spring into action. “Oh,” you gasp, beginning to bend your knees to gather your belongings. You're absolutely mortified, praying to the Cauldron he can’t hear how fast your heart is racing.

“I’m so sorry.”

Before your hand can reach for your sketchbook, another hand beats you to it.

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice deep and enchanting, causing your hand to freeze in midair. There seems to be a magnetic pull in his words, a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. Is there anything about this male that is not attractive?

“I’ve never seen the beauty of my eyes until now.”

The words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop them. “You’re joking, right?”

He’s knelt before you, his hand hovering over your book. But instead of picking it up for you, he grasps for your hand instead. It’s warm and calloused yet feels so good against yours. Like heaven. His eyes finally meet yours, holding you captive. He slowly brings your hand to his lips, and you don’t think you’re breathing as he presses his lips against your skin.

“No,” he grins as he rises to his full height, using his free hand to grab your sketchbook before bringing you with him. “I’m Lucien.”

It takes you a moment to realize he is waiting for you to speak, his presence overwhelming but exhilarating.

“I’m—” you clear your throat to steady your voice. “I’m y/n.”

“y/n,” Lucien repeats with a smile, finally handing you over your sketchbook.

You take it, immediately clutching the book tightly to your chest and avert your gaze, casting it downwards. “I promise I’m not a creep. I was drawing the Sidra–well, attempting to, anyway. But then you came along, blocking my view and something came over me. You see, I’ve been struggling with artist block and your eyes–your eyes are so pretty”--and under your breath, you mutter–” All of you is, if I’m going to be honest…”–Lucien’s smile widens at that–”and I finally felt inspired–oh gods, I’m rambling. I should just shut my mouth.”

Lucien’s russet eye twinkles with amusement. “I inspired you?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly and bashfully.

“Then perhaps,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “I should let you inspire me as well.”

Slowly, you lift your head back up, meeting his eyes once more. A wave of relief surges through you as you find nothing but sincerity and shared interest in his gentle gaze. You find yourself mirroring his smile, and something warm blossoms in Lucien’s chest—the start of something beautiful.

And he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the Night Court isn’t so bad after all.

a/n: okay, that's enough Lucien for now. Can't keep letting him distract me because I need to focus back on the other Vanserra *cough* Eris *cough*

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen

[lheautontimoroumenos]

more thoughts on jackie,shauna .

oooh now you're asking for trouble anon. this is kinda wide so i'll swing wide (this starts and end with codependency though) and go with no plan. if you want something specific pls send another ask.

so. jackie. shauna. or rather jackieshauna. no space between them right? (that's probably the only thing that makes me accept this as the ship name instead of shaunackie).

(i have to put a read more because this is long as fuck believe me)

we know shauna and jackie have been friends for years, probably since they got into school.

we didn't get to see much about jackie's parents when she was still a kid but jackie doesn't seem to hold her mom or her dad in her heart. and yet when she's gone it seems all they can talk about is her.

they're a mirror of shauna's reaction in that they can't seem to let go. even if they probably didn't tell her they loved her, or said it but didn't show it in a way that jackie could receive it (or maybe jackie's mom was too worried about her valium problems), they have to fill the void. they have to believe she'll come back and everything will be the same. that's why her room is left untouched, that's why they make her gifts that she wouldn't even have liked when they celebrate her birthday every year with a picture from when she was 17.

and shauna can't bear to go see them, she suffers every year at jackie's birthday, first because of the guilt she still has regarding jackie's death, and then because she has to go to the taylor's house. they show her just what she's been doing this whole time.

in 101, shauna masturbates while looking at her daughter's boyfriend's picture because she's stuck in the past. in her world jackie's still alive, and in a way callie is jackie to her. because she's a part of jeff and jeff was a part of jackie (which is why shauna went after him). and in this scene, callie's boyfriend is jeff in shauna's head, even unconsciously (interesting to note that callie ends up dumping him and makes you think about what could have been).

and at the end of the episode, where her control kind of slipped because of the "journalist" looking into her past, she immediately went to read her journals. and not the end of it, when jackie's gone, but the very beginning, right after the crash. and not any part either, but the part where she shares and doubts jackie's hopeful sentiment. they have to find us right? they're gonna go get us? why haven't they found us?

so she's right back in it, really she never left. when nat dies, young nat tells her she never even left the plane, lottie says they brought "it" back with them, but there was no "it", "it" was just us. they brought themselves back, teenage them that was still happy and fine (none of them were fine).

so shauna's back in new jersey, she brought her teenage self back, and with her, teenage jackie. jackie's still here with her all the time, in her journals and her hallucinations and in jackie's parents house. because they're a single being, a unit. they're inseparable, a bit of jackie is part of shauna, she ate her, jackie kept shauna alive and now shauna's keeping jackie alive.

and if she's teenage shauna then she's fine, right? she doesn’t have a single problem. but she also feels guilty all the time. if jackie's alive and shauna's married to jeff then she's just betraying her again and again. and callie is the walking talking manifestation of that. she's both the proof that jackie's alive and dead. that she's still there all the time but gone forever. exhibit: callie in jackie's uniform. (and she falls back in her pattern of lying and hiding things in her affair with adam, that starts because of jeff in shauna's mind, the same way she slept with jeff because of jackie).

and honestly? she can make people believe she's fine as long as jackie stays in her. as long as jackie's hers really. but as soon as she's torn away from her insides, jackie becomes dangerous, she hurts and she tears something away from shauna, she takes her away from herself. when she's dating jeff she alienates shauna from herself. when she's put in front of jackie at her birthday she drops her filter, she says she doesn't even like callie (but she can't help loving her), when callie wears jackie's uniform at the party shauna's forced to open up and in spite of her efforts the façade falls.

if jackie isn't hers and hers only then shauna's falling apart. codependency at its finest and at its worst.

and it's not like jackie exempt of that either, we just get less time to see it. but shauna throws it all in her face when they fight in 110, she made her play soccer so they'd stay together, she tells her what to wear so that shauna will stay hers in a way, she assumes shauna's going to rutgers with her and that they'll be best friends forever and that nothing will ever go wrong because her life is perfect (not touching on heteronormativity here but it sure is present imo). she feels left out as soon as shauna starts hanging out with tai in the wilderness, she doesn't want anything to do with the thing that's taking shauna away from her and into the group's good graces (her butchering skills).

that's, I think, the fundamental difference in the way they deal with their codependency. shauna runs toward what's breaking it because she thinks that looking at it up close will either make it disappear or will spontaneously provide a solution to her problem (exhibit: fucking jeff, going to jackie's room at the taylor's, opening up to callie at the party). she grasps blindly at the last of what she thought was a constant in her life, she tries to keep the control and often ends up making things worse (though if holding on fails, shauna's solution is to kill and destroy so she can keep this control).

whereas jackie runs away from it. she keeps an order about things and the relationship but if it looks like it's about to blow then she's gone (exhibit: leaving the cabin after the fight, going buddy buddy with mari at the lake when she feels shauna pulling away from her, not investing herself in any "useful" activity at the camp). where shauna tries hard as she can to hold on to what is slipping away, jackie just lets it go.

they're like deers that get too close to each other and get their antlers tangled (i think there's a poem about this that i'll try to find) and caught in each other and trying to pull away just ends up killing them. it's not that they got too close for comfort, it's that they got so close, getting away from each other even for an inch or a second would kill them. they couldn't live without each other.

but they also got so close they couldn't see each other as a whole. they have to take each other at face value because it's all they can see at this point. jackie died because she couldn't live without the image she made of shauna in her head, the image of an even younger shauna that followed jackie around without a care in the world because this jackie was hers, and hers only.

and shauna is still alive, only because she carries with her an image of a teenage jackie that both forgave her (which allows her to keep carrying jackie with her) and holds her accountable (being cruel though honest justifies shauna's outburst during the fight, if jackie was mean to her then she kind of deserved it right?) which in turn absolves shauna.

they couldn't keep living together the way they were so they had to tear themselves away from each other.

yet even physically apart, there is no way to think one without feeling the other.

[sinstear]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❀ — CAFÉS & CROSSWORDS

🇵🇸 daily click | palestine masterpost | important tlou post

loser abby chokes on air, almost drops her pencil, and crossword book on the floor when she notices you walking into the small café that she’s always visiting, for the first time. a bright smile on your face that has her cheeks flushing crimson red under the dim lighting of the area she was sitting in, just because of how bright your smile was. her palms suddenly sweaty when you’re letting out a laugh. a laugh she wants to constantly hear. 

the turtle neck sweater suddenly feels too tight around her neck, her blush deepening when you’re turning around, still laughing with your friends, and your eyes slowly trail around until they’re landing on her. smiling softly when you spot her scrambling for her pen, looking away just as quick when she’s realising you had just caught her staring shamelessly. 

abby was quickly trying to act oblivious to your staring. if she could stare at you and blush whenever you find her looking, why can’t you stare and smirk when she catches you watching? but it was slightly harder for her because she could feel your eyes burning into the side of her face. almost like you were trying to knock her glasses off just by looking at her.

she had barely even realized you’d grabbed your drink, and made your way over to the selection of books on the shelf when abby turned around, without seeming too shy this time or hiding it better, to look for you. only pouting as a result when she couldn’t find you. had you left? why was she already wanting to fawn over you from a distance and never actually talk to you? was she scared? maybe. would she ever say anything to you unless you did? never. 

it was cute. cute watching her look for you and she barely even knew your name.

simply unaware you were standing behind her, finding the whole interaction more adorable with a smile on your face when she’s burying her face back into her book, or whatever it was that she was reading or doing. 

taking a few steps forward, you couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing. your interest peaking higher at the pretty blonde who suddenly gained your attention as you heard before you could see the pencil in her hand, tapping on the wooden table and a angry scoffed came from her.

your smile brightened a few seconds later at the simple realisation she liked to do puzzles, and was clearly seconds away from giving up.

“introgression” you finally spoke up after watching her struggle for an extra few minutes on writing and erasing the incorrect answer. 

the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, turning around on her chair quickly and regrettably knocking her knee on the table in the process when she found you, standing there with your head cocked to the side and chuckling. with a wince, she replied with a stammered, “what?” looking anywhere but at you.

“the answer to your crossword question. what is a 13-letter word meaning entrance? it’s introgression”

“oh”

“m’sorry, you’ve just been staring at it for a while” you chuckled, smiling down at her.

“it kinda slipped my mind i guess, but thank you” 

“you’re welcome” you giggled, fumbling with your bracelet. “do you do crosswords a lot?”

“uhm, sometimes? keeps my brain focused” abby nodded, nervously tucking a strand of loose hair behind her glasses, and pushing her glasses higher up on her nose. “s’tupid, i know”

“no, no. s’not stupid, it’s cute” you reassured her quickly, smirking at her sudden flushed cheeks. “i can help you finish it, if you’d like? no pressure, i just like crosswords too” 

“you uh, want to—”

“yes pretty girl, i want to crossword with you” 

“aren’t you busy?” 

“never too busy to talk to someone as handsome as you. oh and the crosswords too, obviously, i guess” 

abby couldn't stop blushing at your words while you placed your hot drink on the table, sitting down on the chair opposite her. “you’re definitely here for the puzzle” she giggled.

“and something else, but let’s finish this before we get to the details about our date, yeah?”

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Favorite boy in the Valley ꒱

Pairing - Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Synopsis - Eli's doubting your relationship so you have to confirm some things for him.

Includings - S1!Eli no Hawk, insecurities, crying, embarrassed and blushing Eli, lots of kisses, words of affirmation, small bits of angst, a bunch of fluff

An - First post back with a new fixation! All tags used are fandoms I write for so feel free to request anything

And if anybodys interested I'm currently writing a Scream Au!Cobra Kai on quotev under the same name I use on here

Eli had been a bit off lately and it was starting to worry you.

Eli was generally a quiet person, he had been that way since you met him and he still was. But even given his quiet nature if there was a topic he was interested in and the right people were talking about it he would add in an opinion or two.

And he would be more than happy to rant to you of all people about a new series he had started up or to talk about one of the movies you recommended to him so that the two of you could gush about it and share opinions, but recently he had been a lot quieter.

You shut your locker, smiling over at the dirty blonde. "So, have you watched clueless yet? The fashion in that is-"

"Uh..no, sorry. I was...uhm...busy." He interrupted, staring down at his feet at the lie he told, he watched it twice and wanted nothing more than to go on and on about it.

You rose a brow, head tilting slightly as you stared at him with a look that almost made him call his bluff. "Busy?"

He just nodded quietly.

Then about a week ago, when you asked him if he wanted to come over after school to do a Marvel marathon he had quickly declined, saying that he had other plans and before you could ask what those plans were he went to go talk to Demetri.

He would usually walk you to class, everybody saying that wherever you were he had to be somewhere close by but recently as you waited outside your classroom for him he would be nowhere to found and that made your heart sink a little bit.

"Hey, you weren't outside my English class to walk me to culinary today." You frowned, setting your lunch tray next to his and taking your seat. "I wanted to tell you that I aced my essay..."

Eli glanced over at you and moved his nail from between his teeth. A nasty habit you had been trying to get him to stop doing for months and you were real close until he started becoming distant.

"I was just...just rushing to get to Chemistry. I had a really important test and wanted to get some extra study time in." He explained and you slowly nodded, deciding not to bring up the fact that his test was tomorrow.

He also stopped holding your hand, the first thing he could make the first move on, something he could confidently do if he was feeling nervous or just wanted to touch you. Normally he would hold it as he walked you to your classes or even when the two of you were sitting together at lunch but he started to pull his hand away or shove it into his pocket.

And what really got you was when he started denying your kisses. At first you thought it would just be by accident or he didn't want a kiss at the moment since he was still getting comfortable with PDA but you soon realized that he was dodging your kisses, tilting and moving his head when you leaned in.

It was all really confusing. You didn't understand why he was acting like this and it left you wondering if you had did something wrong. Maybe you had done something that made him upset with you?

You sighed, leaning onto Demetri's shoulder. "Its like when we first met all over again, Dem. He's just been so distant and I don't know whats the matter. Has he been acting different with you?"

"No, he hasnt." Demetri bluntly answered, shaking his head while his eyes stayed focused on the homework you let out a long sigh. "Then it's me, I have to be the problem."

The brunette sighed, putting his pencil down and turning his head to look at you, nearly giving you a death glare. "Look, you just need to talk to him, alright? He's probably going through another one of his slumps and needs some reassurance."

You had groaned, rubbing your hand along your face. "Of course, why hadn't you thought of that before? "Thanks, Dem! You're so good at giving advice, can't believe I didn't think that. God I'm dumb sometimes."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know I am and I know you are. Now, can we please finish our homework now that you're done moping?"

"[Y/n], Eli didn't tell me you were coming."

You smiled up at his mother as you held a new copy of the comic book Eli had ranted about a while ago along with a bag of some of his favorite snacks. "Yeah, I wanted to surprise him."

"Well he's upstairs in his room." She hummed, closing the door behind you as you walked up the stairs and down the hall to the boy's room, lifting your knuckles up to knock on the door.

There was a bit of shuffling before the door opened and Eli's eyes were wide with surprise upon seeing you. "[Y/n]? What..What are you doing here?"

"I just really need to talk to you. Can I come in, please?"

He seemed hesitant at first before reluctantly nodded and opened his door all the way. You set the things you brought for him on the table then walked over to sit across from him on his bed.

You looked at him, staring into his eyes as you reached out to grab his hand and rubbed your thumb over the back of it. "Eli, talk to me. What's the matter? What's going on?"

"It's nothing-" He started but you weren't buying it, obviously. "Eli we both know that's a lie. You haven't really been yourself lately and I just need to know why. I'm here for you. Is it something that I've done or anything I can fix?"

"Unless you can fix me being a freak, no, you can't."

Your face softened as you held onto his hand a little tighter. "Eli, you're not-"

He shook his head, pulling his hands away from yours. "No! Don't. Don't say that! I don't wanna hear this whole 'you're not a freak' talk again I'm so sick of it!"

The way his voice started to crack made your heart sink as you saw that his eyes were starting to water, fresh tears threatening to spill.

"Kyler said something that...that just really got me thinking. Saying that he didn't know how a girl like...like you gave a nerd with a weird lip...lip a chance." Eli swallowed the lump starting in his throat because he was going to start crying rethinking of the conversation.

"He started talking about how much better you could've done. Better like somebody like...like him." He sniffled, his fingers brushing against his scar as he looked everywhere but you when he spoke.

"And then I started to think he was...was right. You could do so much better than some nerd with a freaky l..lip." His voice wobbled as he stared down at his bedsheets.

"Eli. Eli, look at me." While the boy shook his head you reached up to grab the sides of his face, wiping away the tears with your thumbs that were starting to fall down his cheeks.

You sighed, frowning softly. "Look, I don't care what anybody else says, okay? Kyler was wrong because there's no better choice. I mean, is there any other boy at school who would listen to my constant complaining about Mrs.Carter?"

Eli had stayed quiet as you continued. "Would any other boy let me ramble about [f/superhero] and not call me a nerd?"

Silence.

You weren't done though. "Would some jerk like Kyler deal with my long shopping trips and help me carry all my bags around?"

Continuing you had smiled softly up at him. "Oh and I'm one hundred percent sure none of those guys would watch silly chick flicks with me and actually like them."

He shrugged his shoulders and you smiled, pressing your lips against the his cheek in a short yet sweet kiss and he winced, feeling the stickiness from your lipgloss. "And no other boy here is as breathtaking as you."

Your smile grew more as you saw the tips of his ears turning pink and he turned his head away slightly, looking up and away at his ceiling. "[Y/n].."

"I'm serious, Eli. You're so very pretty. I love and adore everything about you."

He avoided eye contact with you, trying to pull his face from your hands but you only hummed while pressing kisses all over his face and leaving shiny kiss marks along it.

"Your eyes alone just make me melt, y'know? I'm real jealous of how your lashes look better than mine." You giggled, placing a kiss right above his brow.

"[Y/n], stop..." He mumbled, his cheeks now being a color that would put any blush set to shame and you shook your head.

"You have a beautiful nose. I love staring at your side profile, it's just perfect." You complimented, kissing the bridge of his nose before your eyes trailed down.

You reached up, tracing your finger along the scar. "And like I've said before I love your scar. I could kiss you a million times and never get grossed out by it.

At that you leaned forward, pressing your lips right against his scar and you could feel his hands squeezing at the bottom of your shirt, fists squeezing tightly around the fabric before you moved down and captured his slightly chapped lips with your own. While you leaned into the kiss you could feel Eli's grip slowly lighten as he leaned into the kiss.

Eli was a burning mess in a the face when you kissed his scar, closing his eyes at the feeling while holding tightly onto your shirt as if you would go anywhere. Feeling you place felt your soft lips on his own partially chapped ones he was like putty in your hands, practically liquefying.

When you pulled away you giggled at the residue of gloss that came from your lips and that was now all over Eli's face and his own lips, smiling as the boy rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, his shoulders rising and falling while he panted softly.

"So no, there's no boy in this valley I'd rather be with." You confirmed, wrapping your arms and he laid back allowing you to lay your head against his chest, finding a sort of comfort listening to his heartbeat.

You hummed softly, reaching a hand up to play with the tuffs of his hair and the two of you laid there in comfortable silence and you peered up to stare at him to see that he was already staring at you.

"You...You really mean it? All that stuff you said earlier?" He questioned, his voice coming off as a whisper and you lifted your head up.

You sat up on his lap, furrowing your brows at him while staring at him with an incredulous expression. "Do I need to repeat myself? Kisses and all?"

"I...I don't know...I don't think I really got it." Eli gave a sheepish smile, messing with the hem of your shirt."

"Maybe...uhm...a couple more kisses and it might click?" He quietly suggested and stared up at you through his eyelashes, his lips parting a bit.

And how could you say no to such a pretty face like that?

[haikyu-mp4]

This devastating event struck me this morning and I wish Aone the construction worker was there to help me.

Making your way home from the grocery store, tote bag on one shoulder and the other hand holding a pack of eggs, you hummed under your breath while your phone swung from your wrist by its strap. There was lots of construction work going on in your street lately, so you kept your eyes on the streets while weaving your way back.

It’s a homemade phone strap, designed by your humble self to perfectly encapsulate who you are in every coloured bead and designated charm. However, you quickly regret not tucking your phone into your pocket instead when the cord snaps, audible only by your little gasp as you stop to watch the beads scattered all over the pavement.

First, you found the bigger ones, the charms that were very visible in the grey sand covering everything because of the construction work.

You’re pouting as you tuck everything you can find into your palm when a hand reaches forward with a couple of beads as well. Looking up abruptly, you blink at a light-haired construction worker wearing the tiniest smile, but take the beads from him nonetheless.

“Thank you!” you say, looking over the ones you had in your hand while he went back to looking for more. He looked cute like this, rolled up to be closer to the ground and letting his hands trace along the gravel looking for little beads.

The two of you silently kept looking until you had gathered most of them, finally standing up and stretching your legs. You smiled kindly when the man looked curiously at your hand holding the ones you found as if asking if those were all.

Looking over the pile again, you hummed. “I’m missing one flower, like this one.” Showing him, he seemed to nod and pulled out a smudged notepad and a pencil that seemed like it was sharpened with a rough knife.

“Write your number. I will let you know if I find it.”

Your eyes sparkled as you looked at your hero, accepting the offer and scribbling down your number, adding your name and a little heart.

“You’re my hero, thank you so much.”

“Just Aone.”

And if you come back later with two bentos to ask if he wanted to have lunch after he texted you saying he found some more for you, what of it?

masterlist

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

__________________________________________

Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

..

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

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

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

[klausinamarink]

(saw this post and laughed at everyone’s tags and ended up writing this instead of my actual wips i should really finish whOOPs)

-

Eddie bopped his head lightly along to Mötley Crüe on his Walkman as he scribbled his ideas for the Thanksgiving oneshot. He managed to finish the gruelling biology homework and his English essay tonight, so he deserved a treat.

As he tapped his pencil against his desk, he looked up and happened to catch one Steve Harrington’s face at the window.

Eddie perked up, taking his headphones off. Steve grinned, gave his dumb finger wave, and pointed at the window. Eddie gave him a ‘wait a second’ gesture and hurried to close his door, peeking first at the living room where Wayne sat on the couch and read his newspaper. Then he swiftly moved his Mötley Crüe tape to his radio and cranked the volume up that would cover any discreet noise.

He lifted the window open, taking a moment to closely observe Steve’s face in his goofy awestruck glory. “What brings you to my balcony, Romeo?”

Steve shrugged playfully, “Doesn’t Juliet yearn for his lover to come at unknown hours under the moonlight?”

Eddie gave himself a second to turn away and cover his delightful shriek with a palm over his mouth. Goddamnit, his boyfriend is a perfect Shakespeare romantic. He leaned back in with a low whisper, “Sounds like Romeo needs an excuse to see Juliet.”

“That’ll be great since I’m literally tiptoeing on this box right now.” Steve laughed and heaved himself up with a ‘hup!’ Eddie stepped back to let his boyfriend shimmy in, but then his eyes widened in horror when he realized what was under the window in his room.

“Wait, Steve-!” Eddie cut off as Steve landed elegantly onto the small bookshelf instead of the bed because he had switched their places the previous week because his brain was on a weird day and Eddie had thought doing so might shut it up, so he has yet to reverse them.

The bookshelf toppled over on the floor, along with the lamp and other figurines. Steve himself pretty much crashed and rolled before he stopped himself on his side. He looked up at Eddie in bewilderment.

“Uhhh…”

Before either of them could say anything, Wayne burst into the room. Out of instinctive reflex, Eddie threw his bedsheets right on Steve, covering him but not really hiding him.

“What’s going on?” Wayne asked. His gaze landed on the mess and the very obvious Steve blanket lump on the floor.

“Nothing!” Eddie answered, too cheerily. “I was just dancing a lot and, uh, did this. By accident, sorry.”

Wayne stared at him, clearly not believing his ass. “…Right.” He said slowly. “Does Steve want to stay for breakfast in the morning?”

Eddie blinked innocently and, because he was the best liar in the entire world, said, “Who’s Steve?”

Steve made some muffled guffaw sound. Eddie subtly kicked him in where he hoped was in the shins. Wayne gave him another stare before coming to Steve the Blanket Lump and lifted the sheet up where Steve blinked just as innocently back.

“What’s your name, son?” Wayne asked matter of factly.

“…Steve?”

“Steve, would you like to stay for breakfast in the morning?”

Steve looked over to Eddie, who quickly shook his head no, then back at Wayne with his parent-rated charming smile. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind, Wayne.”

His uncle nodded and dropped the blanket, covering Steve again. He turned and walked out of the room, calling out, “Better not hear any more noises again!”

Eddie practically dropped to the ground, his face in his hands, and groaned aloud. This was so embarrassing. He felt Steve’s arms hugging his chest. “Eds, babe, I’m sorry but you know I would die for your uncle’s buttermilk biscuits and jams.”

He glared at his boyfriend half-heartedly. “Stealthy like a ninja, you say?”

Steve pointedly looked down at the fallen bookshelf. “Welllll, I could’ve sworn there was always a bed there-”

Eddie kissed him. “Well,” he said after they broke apart, “maybe I’ll let Romeo help me clean up and all shall be forgiven with our usual duties.”

Steve wiggled his eyebrows with a shit-eating grin. “Clean up, you say, Juliet?”

Wayne hollered at Eddie to close his bedroom door.

[lay-z]

Just a sneak peek of a concept that has taken root in my brain.

TF-141 x fem!vampire!Reader. Aye?

"If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do this my way, sunshine. Am I being clear?"

Sunshine. You don't know if you should scoff or laugh about the pet name. Is it because you're anything but a ray of sunshine or because it's one of the few things that can actually harm you? A reminder that you're not indestructible perhaps?

"Very clear," you purr, adding, "Johnathon."

Captain Price wrinkles his nose at that and you find it incredibly endearing, the way he both hates and desires you; knowing about the latter, because you can clearly pick up the tiniest hint of arousal in his human scent.

"Rule number one," he grumbles, tightening his crossed arms over his bulky chest, "I'm sir, Captain or Price to you from now on. Rule number two, you answer to me and you'll learn to respect me. Especially in front of my men. Understood?"

You regard him in silence for a moment, gazing up at him with sharp, ruby eyes while you're sitting perfectly still in the chair in front of his large and very cluttered mahogany desk. A desk so messy, it makes your fingers itch to clean it up.

"Honestly, I feel like you'll only come up with more rules and I should probably write all of this down," you retort, obviously wanting to taunt him as you feign looking for a pencil on his desk. "I have terrible memory, you know?"

You never forget anything and you couldn't if you tried. It's both a blessing and another curse that's part of your condition. A side effect, one could say.

And you anticipate him slamming his mammoth palm on the desk with an exasperated growl even before it connects with the wood with a loud smack. You heard the spike of his pulse, the way his muscles flexed and synapses in his brain fired when his temperament made him react to your teasing.

Captain Price is such a prime male human example; being with him almost makes you feel giddy in a way that you haven't felt in decades, and this whole arrangement that is slowly starting to come together only adds to the long forgotten feeling of excitement.

"This is all a bloody joke to you, innit? Meanwhile, I'm over here, taking a huge fucking risk turning to someone like you for help!"

Your eyes zero in on the thick vein in his flushed neck as he yells at you, throbbing and alive, and you can feel your mouth water with saliva as the urge to bite and feed on him, to make him yours, starts growing in your chest cavity.

As you let out a soft, breathy laugh, completely unbothered by his outburst that probably has his soldiers cowering, you flash him a charming smile. "Pardon me," you chuckle softly and relax back into your chair, "I'll be good now, Captain."

Captain Price narrows his steel blue eyes at you suspiciously as he slowly lowers himself back into his office chair and the old leather creaks under his weight.

"I highly doubt that, sunshine," he sighs gruffly, rubbing a hand over his tired face before dropping it on the desk again, glaring at you once more. "But I'll take my chances with you."

"You want your little Sergeant back, don't you?" You ask rhetorically, because this is why you're here, why he brought you back all the way from Urzikstan to the UK after you'd stumbled into the scene, had your hungry self been lured in by the thick scent of blood and death that day.

The Captain stiffens in his seat at the mention of Soap, the man who got captured by their enemy after being shot and left behind in some tunnel.

You don't need a verbal answer from him to know that you're right.

"Exactly," you coo, letting out a little laugh. Giddy. Excited. Just happy to be involved, honestly.

" and I can bring him back. No biggie."

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

All My Scars

The stories behind one of the scars each of the twst cast has SOME ARE WAY ANGSTIER THAN OTHERS OKAY please read the tw and the tags, and like the stuff in brackets under characters names that have them for a heads up...what Specifically their section covers

TW: SH, abuse, Bad Parents (specified in the reading), references to alcoholism, implied SA survivor, and some OOC stuff bc I like making Cater cry sorry PROCEED WITH CAUTION FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, apologies for inconsistencies

IF YOU DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. Here's my masterlist to some fluffier stuff if you still want to check out my writing. Thank you!

I'll be doing a fluffier version of this some other time, like dumbest childhood injuries they had or something, so if this ain't for you, please hold! --------------------------------------------------------------------

"How did you get your scar(s)?"

Heartslaybul

Riddle The question caught him off guard. He glanced down at his hand where your thumb ran over the small indentations on the skin between his thumb and pointer finger, a small smile kicking up the corner of his mouth.

"That was Che'nya. When we were kids." You looked at him, your silence prompting him to continue.

He smiled a little more, gently pulling his hand from yours to look at the scars left there, laughing softly, though a bit pained.

"I wasn't prepared to receive very much physical affection, but Che'nya couldn't really help himself. He said if hugs were off the table, he just wanted to nibble." He chuckles softly "Of course he didn't give me much of a warning, though Trey tried to stop him before he bit me. It was a shock at the time, but both of them explained it was an expression of affection...I confirmed it later on in an article on the behaviours of beastmen. Trey was used to getting bites from Che'nya, but usually with less pent up energy. Nonetheless, he helped me take care of it before I had to return home."

His brow furrowed a bit as he sighed.

"Of course, my mother noticed eventually, the divots on my hand. It was the first and only time I ever outright lied to her - lies of omission aside. I know she didn't believe me when I told her it was just me being clumsy with my pencil, but I suppose it was a tender mercy she didn't have time to deal with me that day." He looked at the divots a little longer, a particular softness in his expression.

"They're the only scars I have. I find it rather ironic that the only imperfection I carry in my mother's eyes...is the lasting impression that there is at least one person who cares for me more than she has ever been capable of."

His smile was sad, but he tried to keep things light as he looked at you. "That is not an invitation to try and bite me as well. I know full well you care for me...because you've helped the scars nobody can see, fade."

Trey

"Which ones?" He chuckles softly, pausing his kneading as he held out his arms for you to look over the various marks he had, before he pointed at one, taking matters into his own hand. "My youngest brother likes this one for some reason. He thinks the texture is different and kinda just rubs my arm when he's calming himself down."

He turned his arm so his elbow was pointing out a little bit so he could look at his forearm, pointing to a bigger scar. "This was a burn from bumping against the edge of the oven while trying to take out a tray of cookies in a rush."

He turned his arm yet again, showing off another one. "This one was from me trying to reheat baked potato leftovers. I put butter on it and threw it in the microwave, but I almost dropped the bowl when I took it out and had the bright idea to try and catch it. Splashed hot butter up my arm." He chuckled again, using his shoulder to bump up his glasses. "I have a few from Che'nya as well. Some from my siblings. Some from baking. But they make for good stories should I ever need something to share."

Cater (Heads up for the abusive parent HC's regarding using kids for media Clout) <- you can read by clicking the link

He looks startled, like he's just seen a ghost before trying to laugh it off.

"I uh...oooh sevens don't tell me you saw me eat dirt like two days ago while I was skateboarding! I swear normally I'm better than that, I just- I didn't scar, just a scrape and nothing more, swear! It's sweet you're concerned though."

You gave him a bit of a sad look, before sighing, looking away awkwardly, knowing there was no...delicate way to tell him what you wanted to.

"Look, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but the last time I was babysitting Cheka I...saw what he was watching on his tablet and um...well I unsubscribed him from the channel but there were some videos on there that-"

"Stop."

Cater was hugging himself, balled up as tightly as he could get on the opposite side of the couch, his hair shrouding his face somewhat. He was taking shallow, rapid breaths, and while you wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, you didn't think he would respond well to touch at the moment.

"How much did you see?" His voice was as demanding as he could get it from inside of his little shell.

You cleared your throat a bit. "I didn't go digging into any of the videos, won't watch any if you don't want me to...it was just some of the thumbnails that...worried me that you...might have more than emotional scars to work through..."

You moved slowly to kneel on the floor next to Cater, offering your hand should he want to take it. "I'm sorry, there were better ways for me t-"

"You're right." He sobbed softly, looking out at you, nothing but pain on his face as he tried to hold in another sob, taking your hand in his, and moving it to gently run over his outer forearm.

"I c-cover them up um...a-all the time, it's second nature now but.." he takes a few moments to try and catch his breath.

"These ones were all from the same damned prank video...mom..covered the floor in dish soap in the kitchen...I was like...four, I still loved cookies, so when she said there were some, I came running in...slid and crashed into the oven...."

He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes with his free arm. "I remember watching the doctor pluck glass out from me and my mom was outside the room....just...yelling at my dad..."

He waved his hand over his forearm, letting the faded scars come to light beneath his concealer, trusting you to keep this a secret. His eyes still held unshed tears as he looked away from his arms, and from you.

"And the worst part? That video went viral. People thought it was funny. So of course mom went and did more and more prank videos, even if some people made it popular for the wrong reasons, there was still attention and validation there for her efforts, so it didn't matter. If I was crying, it was cute for me to...fuss, because I was- am the youngest, and nothing I felt really mattered. It was- I just-....I like being who I am now...most of the time...because nobody...nobody sees beyond what I want them to see...er...most people now I guess..." He gave you a bit of a bashful smile, clearly upset and conflicted still, before his face fell again and he gently tugged his hand from yours.

"Just give me a few minutes and everything will be okay again. Promise."

Deuce (with the HC he's deaf/HoH)

He kinda just sighed deeply at your question, shooting you a bit of an unimpressed look.

"I mean you could take a guess where I got most of'm and probably hit the nail on the head." He huffed, rubbing the back of his neck a bit, his eyes drifting to the side awkwardly as he wracked his brain for a scar story that wouldn't dredge up memories he'd rather forget.

"I mean the scar story my mom tells her coworkers about..." He cringes a tiny bit at the idea of relaying the story the same way his mother does, but sighed anyways.

"I was young, like really young, maybe two or three. It was before I was used to my hearing aids, so I didn't have them in at the time. She had just turned a little to greet one of our neighbours who had come out to say hello, only to hear ungodly squawking, followed by giggles...I didn't know the bird I'd managed to grab was giving me a heads up it didn't like being grabbed, besides it's struggling...long story short, it bit me pretty good." He blushed a bit and pointed to a relatively small scar on his cheek. "I don't even know what kind of bird it was. I just know what happened because it was something my mom talked about a lot."

Ace (TW for alcoholic father/abuse/manipulation)

"Mmh?" he sounded rather uninterested. It was a fair question, given the amount of time the two of you hung out, it wasn't like you wouldn't notice the jagged scar on his neck to his collarbone.

He shrugged, trying to play off how uncomfortable the memory was. "Just somethin' that happened when I was a kid."

Your unspoken questions bothered him more than he thought they would, rocking to sit up properly and look at you a little pissy.

"Look, I'm over it, so I'll tell you but I don't want a damn reaction or pity, okay? I was nine, my brother had just gotten his admission letter into NRC, and my dad was drunk off his ass. Threatened my brother with the cost of my life if he quit his job and stopped being his beer fund- not that it was much of a threat, it was a glass bottle or some shit he'd shattered and held to my neck. That was the night my brother made arrangements for me to live with his friends families so he could still come here without making me walk on eggshells around my dad. He still won't tell me if he kept paying the bastard's beer money or not, but my dad's in rehab now, and I don't ever gotta go back to him by myself again. I can just visit my brother now he's got his own place, even if he's got a roommate. So now you know." He got up from the couch, shaking out his hands a bit.

"Now, I'm gonna make some breakfast and I'm using your materials. Ain't no way I'm trekking back to Heartslaybul just for breakfast."

Savanaclaw

Leona

"Don't remember" He stretched on his bed, yawning. "Same shit I told Ruggie. It doesn't affect me now, so what's the point in remembering it? Can't hold on to every dusty memory."

"Aren't scars a symbol of nobility to those from Sunset Savannah?"

You could practically feel the discomfort rolling off of Leona in waves as he turned his back to you more.

"....yeah, they can be..." he sighed, feeling the weight of your next question mounting. "Just chalk it up to some stupid royal tradition that should have been abolished years ago. You don't have to believe it, but I'm done talking now."

Ruggie (Hyena Hierarchy shit ig?)

"Eh?" His ears flick playfully as he snickers. "They ain't a big deal. Growin' up some of the girls would play a little rough, 'nd now I mainly take care of the rugrats they like to chew and bite on anything they can get their little teeth into, not limited to ears and tail."

His ear flicks again and he holds his hands out. "And I mean, my hands ain't scarred but I don't have fingerprints cuz my grandma taught me how to do the hot food flip, you know what I mean." He snickers. "But y'know, just cuz they don't hurt anymore, doesn't mean I won't take a little extra cuddles or pets if you're gonna offer."

Jack

He scratched the back of his head a bit. "You noticed it??" He seemed a little awkward, and now that the fact had fully settled that the only scar he had was the small one on his upper lip, you could kind of understand why.

You nod a bit and he sighs, his hand dropping from behind his head and looking off to the side, a little bit embarrassed.

"It was a frog." He cringed a bit at his wording and at the eyes he felt from you, and he knew you were trying to hold back laughter.

"I- my bigger cousin was showing me a frog he caught and it jumped on my face. I didn't have full awareness of ah...my capabilities and...where my claws were in relation to my face... ended up hurting myself in the process of getting it off of me. I don't remember much else after that....just that I don't...love frogs..." He admitted a little shyly, tail tucked slightly, and clearly embarrassed.

Octavinelle

Azul

He looks at you rather unimpressed, then gestures to the tweels.

"They think I'm a chew toy. They would be the reason for any and ALL of my scars, as I've never been in any other danger where scarring would be an issue."

Jade

The question seems to hit him harder than you expected. Jade was normally hard to read, but his discomfort was apparent with your question. He gave you a practiced, but strained smile.

"The story behind my scars are not something I share willingly with anyone. I will be taking my leave." (but you can read the story here >:D)

Floyd (partial nudity?? but it's just Floyd showing off the scars he has all along his legs enthusiastically)

"Aha! I got a whole buncha scars shrimpy, which ones are ya curious 'bout?" He flopped down next to to you, and took his shirt off, showing off scars on his back.

"Oh didya see the ones on my legs durin' basketball practice?" He tried to pull up his school uniform pant leg, to no avail. He huffed and just slid his pants off, leaving him in his boxers as he showed off the scars all along his legs.

He beamed "It's a helluva lot harder t'see em when I'm in my mer form, blend right in with my scales, but my human body?? I look sick!! And there ain't too many humans who can boast 'bout havin' scars from a shark attack or a tussle with a barracuda! I got a whole buncha stories I could tellya if ya think you can stomach'em-" He snickers.

Scarabia

Kalim

"Ahah....I..I've got a scar?? Where?" For some reason he seemed a little panicked, looking over his arms anxiously. "No, no I shouldn't have any scars I um- I- just-"

His behaviour made you a little worried, so you moved to take his hands in yours, trying to steady him, but he pulled away from you, looking at you rather frantically.

"Just tell me where! I....I can- I'm alright, promise, but I don't have any scars!"

I'm realizing I have an obsession, here's another story

Jamil

"I mean I have a few minor scars on my hands from when I first started learning to cook." You watched his practiced movements as he chopped vegetables at a quick pace, sliding them off the cutting board as necessary to make more room for himself.

"Though I suppose with how intently you watch me work it's not a stretch to assume you noticed them." He gives you a bit of a knowing smirk, before pausing for a moment, and flexing his wrist to show a small scar on the back of his hand.

"That one was from taking care of Najma. She was just learning how to walk and wandered out of my fathers sight. My mother was taking care of something inside the palace, so as soon as I noticed she wasn't toddling around us, my father and I began searching for her. She ended up somehow getting herself wedged between....seven, I can't even remember. I remember putting both hands in, and pulling one one out with a cockroach on it, and the other struggling to pull Najma out until my dad was able to assist." He shook his head and sighed. "I cut myself on the wood around her, needed a couple stitches after....but she was all good, save for a mouthful of sand she had stuffed into her mouth." he chuckled softly.

"But if I have any other scars...you'll have to wait longer for those stories."

Pomefiore

Vil (SA Survivor vaguely implied)

"I do not know what you are referring to potato. I don't have so much as single blemish on my skin."

You met his eyes in the mirror, a silent questioning match ensuing between the two of you. You broke eye contact first, leaving him satisfied as he took a deep breath.

"There is nothing inherently wrong with scars. But the ones I have don't deserve any more thought, the person who inflicted them are no longer a part of my life, and never will be again. It's been over seven years, I know that there isn't a cell on me that has not been replaced by a new one."

He met your eyes back in the mirror. "Never bring this topic up again, unless you require assistance with your own scars."

Rook

"Hm? I've taken great care to cover them all up, mon trickster. Since coming to Pomefiore and being under Vil's supervision, most of my scars have faded to a point they are barely identifiable." He smiled softly at you.

"Though if you've noticed one or two, I assure you the story is lackluster." Despite his casual appearance, Rook seemed to be on..even higher alert than usual, as in you could actually pick up on the tension coming off of him. Despite this, your curiousity got the better of you.

"How can they be lackluster? Aren't most of them from archery or animals?"

Rook met your eyes with a rather cold expression, and regardless of stature, made it feel like he was looking down on you.

"No."

His glare lasted a beat longer, before he beamed, "Ah, it's best I get going. I bid you good day."

Epel (got top surgery over the summer)

"WHATCHYA MEAN HOW'D I GET MA SCARS?!" He has a wide grin on his face, hiking his shirt up.

"I AIN'T GOT NO TITS NO MORE!" He sets his shirt back down, a shit-eating smile on his face. "It was about damn time y'know! Lookit how flat ma ches- look at the scars!! Ain't they cool lookin?? Make me look MANLY an' strong, earlier Sebek done asked who I fought nd I just told'm it was my femin-feminini-.....it ain't funny now, but his face sure was!"

Ignihyde

Idia (TW for SH scars)

The ends of his hair went almost clear, and he looked rather deflated. "....cats. Stray cats. Used to pick them up without trying to bribe them first..." he mumbled, pulling at his sleeve a little more to try and cover them up, before trying to flash you a smile, though he was clearly uncomfortable and upset, so it only lasted a moment before he turned completely away from you.

The silence was heavy between the two of you, knowing the truth was more than the consequences of an angry cat.

He hugged himself more, still away from you.

"I don't do it anymore...Ortho is here now..to ah...remind me to do better...even if he doesn't know about it, his presence is enough."

Ortho

"Scar??" He tilted his head and giggled a little bit. "I don't really get those. When I get scratches Idia helps me buff them out. Why, do you see one?"

He ran a diagnostics test, trying to answer his own question, but came up empty, now trying to look over himself manually for any sort of disfiguration, only to look at you more confused and a little amused.

"What are you talking about?"

Diasomnia

Malleus

He had to hide a slight pout at your question. "Fae do not scar, not easily..."

He could see the way your eyes shifted between his face and his ear, before he sighed. "However...when I was much younger, I was prone to fits of anger, often scaring and sometimes harming the guards that were too slow to react around me." A tiny smile started to form as he thought about it more.

"Besides the initial pain when his weapon brushed past me, the guards face of terror was enough to make me giggle, despite the blood that dripped from the tiny incision." His hand came up to gently hold his ear between two of his fingers, rubbing over the small scar along the edge of it.

"I told him if he agreed to play with me I wouldn't tell my grandmother what he'd done. In a way, he was one of my first friends..but the news inevitably made it's way through the chain of command, and he was soon replaced by another heartless, soulless guard...they were all like that you know....so afraid of me, as a Draconia, to even extend the hand of friendship to a child."

Lilia

"Kheeheehee I've not got a single one, not anymore! I've had more than enough time for all the memories of my glory days fade like the scars that would have told the stories. Besides, having any visible scars would put a damper on my absolutely adorable face!" He batted his eyelashes, resting his cheeks on the 'v' shape his hands made.

Silver

"How did I get my scars?" He repeated, then looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't have many...ah." He pulled his pant leg up gently and revealed a somewhat...suspicious looking scar on his calf.

"When I was younger, Sebek's yelling wasn't always enough to wake me up. He got fed up and bit me. He was successful in waking me up, so I have a few other scars similar to that one from when we were kids, but when he was about ten he had to stop. It was too much and he had poor control over his bite force."

He touched the side of his face pensively. "Though I was outside a lot as a child too. I'm sure I've got more scars and marks than I've cared to count. But Fa- Lilia was always attentive during our sparing sessions, so I've never received a scar from a blade."

Sebek

He huffed, an annoyed sounding bellow leaving him as he crossed his arms and turned his face away from you.

"I have not had the opportunity to receive a scar but-"

"The opportunity?"

His face flushed a bit, and he looked a little grumpy, "SILENCE, do not interrupt me human. Of course you wouldn't understand! My grandfather has battle scars still, they're a symbol of his bravery and valiance in Briar Valley! If I should ever have the OPPORTUNITY to receive a scar by blade, I would like to have one that matches his."

Extra

Che'nya

"Eh?? Well why'dya wanna knyow?" He chuckles, sitting crisscross against nothing, upside down in front of you.

"I was just curious- you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

He just giggles more, wiping one hand over half his face, evidently using magic to get rid of concealer on that side of his face.

"It's nyat a big deal, all I've got are acne scars and the result of me just pickin' at myah skin." He grinned, pouting playfully and making a peace sign. "'m still absolutely adorrrrrrrrrrrrable though, makeup just is more tolerable than putting lotion on and reminds me not to pick at it." He purred through his own compliment, before using his hand to use magic and put the concealer back on.

Jack Hearts-Trappola (same TW as Ace, only it's implied here, not outright)

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Don't ask Ace that question, kay? It'll put'm in a funk for the rest of the day even if he denies it." He moved to pour himself a glass off coffee, aware you were still waiting for an answer. He took a sip before looking back to you, and answering best he could.

"The scars I have were mostly caused by glass. Once I got into the entertainment industry, I took up soldering and welding so I've got a few pretty bad burns myself from slag or poor PPE, but I had fun doin' it. So no harm no foul." He grinned, the same wide, shit-eating grin that matched his younger brother's expression so closely, it was uncanny.

Falena

His laugh filled the room, boisterous and light. "Ah, you noticed them?" He had all sorts of scars along his arms, in sets of two or three, headed in the same direction.

"Thank you. Here, scars are a testament to one's nobility, strength and perseverance. I received many from Leona when we used to spar, he was always quick on his feet and caught me off guard many times." He chuckled again. "I was never the best at fighting, but it was an important skill to develop should I ever need to defend my son...and if my wife isn't around to exact her fury." His wife gave him a light, playful shove, making him laugh in response as well.

Najma

"Okay if I tell you, you can't tell Jamil or my parents okay?? Don't go snitching me out." She pulled you up to her room, and to her window, sliding it open to a palm tree just outside.

She pointed down at a ridge on the tree, and then pulled up the cuff of her pants and pointed to a scar from the middle of her calf up to her knee. "That fucking tree bit me when I was just trying to go meet up with some of my girls. Do you know how quiet I had to be so my mom and dad didn't catch on??"

Neige (HC he uses mobility aids (forearm crutches + wheelchair when necessary) when not in public eye)

He laughed softly, settling back into his wheelchair and pulling his leg up across the other one, pointing to a small scar over the front of his ankle.

"I got it when I was really young. I was trying to run away from someone who was chasing me, I don't remember if it was tag or not, but probably! I ended up getting a deeper cut than I thought I did when I tripped over one of those concrete barriers they use for cars. It was already falling apart, so the I guess it was moreso the mix inside the concrete that got me?? I don't remember. I do remember getting ice cream after though." He giggled. "I think I was on my way to a photoshoot. I'll have to see if Vil remembers."

Rollo (vague religious themes, SH, never ask me to write for this man again)

He had a band around his wrist, as if he had a bracelet that had turned into one massive scar. It wasn't entirely unreasonable for you to ask, and now that you knew of his brother, there was no reason to really keep it to himself now.

He sighed, holding his wrist out to you rather disdainfully.

"It's a reminder. Every time I look at it, I can imagine the pain my dear brother was in as fire and magic consumed him. I burnt myself for weeks in the same place so as to remind myself repeatedly what my failure has caused. It serves as a reminder what hell will feel like should I never repent of my sins, or fail in correcting the path so many have fallen to. Magic is no god of mine. I will not let it dictate when life is lost or gained. Not in my life. Not in anyone's if things were to go my way...but I'll show them the right way eventually."

His eyes slid over to you.

"You agree, don't you? You'll walk down the righteous path with me and preach the truth to everyone until they join us too."

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

Free me from my mental prison dear god why do I do this to myself at the worst times of day/night.